Page 30 of Striking Out In The Mountains

We don’t last as long as we did last night. I squeeze his hands as my pussy cums all over his thick perfect dick.

My pussy is squeezing and pulsing around his cock as wave after wave of heat slams into me, shaking me to my core. I cry out as my toes curl and my body fills with warm sensual bliss.

“Oh yeah,” he groans as I grind down on him, whimpering and gasping from the intense sensations. “I love feeling your pretty little cunt cumming on me.”

Graham seems to be holding himself back while he watches me cum. He seems to be enjoying the show.

When my whimpers turn to deep sensual moans, he knows the highlight of the show is over and lets himself go.

He thrusts in as deep as possible and releases, grunting and cursing as he fills my pussy with his hot load.

I take it all, grinding and rolling my hips as I watch this gorgeous man in awe.

His warm comforting arms wrap around me as I collapse onto him, feeling like the day can’t get any better than this.

After a while, we slink down to the kitchen and I make some coffee as he looks through my fridge to see what he can make for breakfast.

He pulls out the eggs, some fruits and vegetables, and then looks in my pantry. He’s shirtless with nothing on but a pair of jeans. He looks so at ease and comfortable in my kitchen, going through my pantry like he belongs here. Every time I glance at him, I have to fight the urge to pinch myself. I must be dreaming.

“Hey, do you have a gym membership?” I ask, curious if I’m right.

He shakes his head as he washes a red pepper. “No, are you looking for one?”

“I was just wondering.”

I knew it. He got those big muscles the old-fashioned way. Somehow, that makes them even sexier.

We start to make some omelettes together. I chop the veggies while he cracks the eggs.

“You eat that many eggs?” I say, shocked at what he’s doing. I usually have two, maybe three, but this guy is cracking the whole carton.

“You’re working me too hard,” he says with a grin. “I need to recoup some energy.”

Before I can respond, there’s a loud knock on the front door, followed by the unmistakable sound of Arabella’s voice calling, “Cara! Are you home?”

I drop my head and groan. “It’s my neighbor,” I say as I head to the door. “She’s sweet, but she’s got the worst timing.”

I open the door and Arabella is bouncing around with nervous energy as her five-year-old son, Daniel, clutches her hand. Her dark curls are frizzier than usual, and she looks frazzled. “Cara, I’m so sorry to do this, but my babysitter canceledagain. I have to be at work in thirty minutes and you know how my boss is. Can you watch Daniel? Just for a few hours? You can just plop him in front of the TV.”

I glance back at Graham who’s walking over, buttoning his shirt up that he wore last night.

Oh no! Not his shirt. Damn it.

“Oh, you have company?” Arabella says when she sees him.

I usually don’t mind babysitting Daniel. He’s a cute kid, but I doubt Graham is going to want to spend our first morning together with a cockblocking five-year-old lingering around.

“Of course, we can watch him,” Graham says with an easy smile. He crouches down to Daniel’s level. “Hey, buddy. I’m Graham. We’re making omelettes, do you want to help?”

“I don’t know how to make omelettes,” Daniel says, looking at him wearily.

“It’s easy,” Graham says. “First, we have to crack the eggs. That’s the fun part. When I make omelettes for the firemen at the station, I have to crack about thirty eggs.”

“Thirty?” Daniel says, wide-eyed. “You’re a fireman? Really?”

Graham nods. “I am.”

I glance at Arabella and she looks impressed that I bagged a fireman.

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