Page 8 of Clear Your Mind

She’s totally serious.

That brings on a growl. “I don’t want you writing about Dude’s dick.” I’m only half kidding. I have no idea why the thought bothers me, it just does. It’s not like we hadn’t shared club girls in the past.

She’s not a club girl, my inner voice scolds me.

She rolls her eyes and shimmies down. “Fine, I’ll leave that to Faith, but I’m damn sure writing about yours.” She winks at me with her tongue peeking out before stepping into my shower like she owns the place, leaving me to follow like a puppy.

Which I do without even a slight hesitation. I’ll file that away for later to pick apart and overanalyze.

I’m amazed at how submissive she is in bed. Letting me call the shots and set the pace, going along with anything I try. Yet the minute my dick slips from her cunt, she’s all piss and vinegar, as Mash would say.

“Come here,” I speak to her back as she fingers the water through her hair. She turns. I take the lathered shampoo in my hands and rub it into her brown locks.

She hums with pleasure, and my dick responds. “Better watch it, Buddy,” she says dreamily. “Or I just might blow you again before the night’s done.”

The laugh that bubbles up from my chest catches me by surprise. “Um, just remember to breathe through your nose.”

When her laugh joins mine, I think for a fleeting moment that I wouldn’t mind hearing that sound throughout the clubhouse, and often.

That thought murders my laughter instantly. I amnotlooking for a relationship, ol’ lady, wife, girlfriend, or even a steady piece of ass that is more meaningful than a club girl.The depth of my commitment ends when clothes go on, I remind myself.

The fact that I’m reminding myself pisses me off. But maybe she could be a regular with no strings? Like club pussy, but only for me.

The beautiful naked woman in my shower shoots me a puzzled look before she steps out and dries off.

If she had an idea where my thoughts were, I have no doubt she’d not find the offer appealing. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman who’d be okay with being compared to club pussy.

I study her curvy form with appreciation. She’s wearing a couple of necklaces and bracelets with different-colored stones and nothing else. I follow one of the necklaces down between her generous tits.

Pausing with the towel at her hip and looking down, she turns back to me. “Did you do this on purpose?”

There was no accusation in her tone.

“Yes,” I answer simply. I should apologize for not clearing it with her first, but I don’t.

“Next time, my turn.” She wraps the towel around her and pads from the bathroom.

Fuck me.

No wonder I want a repeat. She’s perfect.

In that moment, I realize I don’t even know her fucking name. I’ve never been that bad. I mean, I may not remember names, but generally, at some point before I’m balls deep, I at least know it.

I find that I actually want to know it too. This chick has some ungodly hold over me after just one night. I can stand here dumbfounded in the shower and question it six ways to Sunday, or I can do like everyone is always telling me and just go with the flow. I haven’t been a go-with-the-flow type of person in a very long time, but what do I have to lose by trying?

I finish up my shower, paying extra attention to the place her face is about to be. As I kill the water, she returns, still wrapped in a towel and looking like a fucking dream. Her wet hair hangs past her shoulders and is starting to curl. It was straight last night. Her skin is still slightly pink from the temperature of the water.

I study her bare face and realize how absolutely stunning she is. I thought her beautiful with her black-rimmed eyes and heavy makeup, but without it, she’s even more so.

There’s a slight smattering of freckles across her nose I missed, but they’re uneven. More concentrated on the left than the right. Her dimple piercings glint in the bathroom light.

“Where are my clothes?” she asks casually.

“I sent them downstairs to be washed.”

She chews the corner of her lower lip, and my finger itches to reach out and free it from the torture of her teeth and subject it to the torture of mine. She releases it, and I realize the split I created is prominent, and she’d been worrying at it with her teeth.

The surge of arousal that it inflicts on me is visceral. God, how I want to taste her blood again. See it on my hand, rub it into her skin as I fuck her.

---