Page 53 of Drawn to You
I gulp. “Sounds fantastic, baby, but you’ve never done it before.” The last time when I suggested it, she was afraid to try.
“Yes. I’m doing it now because today is a special day.”
I don’t argue, but I steady her by holding her hips firmly as she removes her nightgown and sits on top of me like a most beautiful marble statue, naked and glorious.
“You’re stunning, baby,” I say and run the back of my hand over her snowy swells before cupping them one by one.
“Mmm,” she moans and grinds her wet center on my hardness.
“Fuck,” I groan. “I’m gonna come, Britt.”
“Hold on,” she demands and lifts her bottom up while holding my very sensitive manhood in her hands and guiding it to her wet entrance.
My senses go into overload the moment I slip into her walls, and it’s all I can do not to burst. She’s so wet I glide through her feminine channel in one silky thrust, all the way to the hilt. She moves slowly and a bit awkwardly at first, but soon she gets the hang of it and rocks her hips adeptly like a pro. She arches her back, and her little perky breasts bounce to the rhythm of her movements. Holy Jesus. I’m having trouble holding my urge to come, but Brittney slows down deliberately, letting the tip of my manhood massage her sensitive spot. The little vixen. Obviously, she isn’t doing it just to energize me! Although it’s excruciating to be hanging on a cliff like this, I patiently indulge her because damn, I want to please her just as much.
Sighing, Brittney sinks down again, slowly, and grinds her clit on me over and over as if I were her toy. “You feel so, so good, Andrew,” she says in a throaty voice.
That’s it—I lose my patience and grip her hips. I lift her up and then down, pausing when I’m completely buried inside her to enjoy her warmth. And then I thrust with abandon, stretching her walls each time I’m in and making her gasp and moan. The bed shakes, and the floor creaks, and we vocalize our pleasure above the noises, like a pair of animals whose sole purpose of living is to mate, until a tidal wave overtakes us.
“I’m going to make coffee,” I say a moment later when we’ve calmed down. “You can rest longer.”
She clings to my waist. “Let’s just get it from Starbucks.”
“Are you sure?” I’m amused by the suggestion. The reason I purchased a new coffee maker shortly after she moved in was because she didn’t want me to go there anymore.
“No,” she smiles and says. “Go make it.”
I chuckle and get out of the bed promptly.
Hours later, I’m at the gym watching and counting while participants of the contest bench press their body weights. The event is called Bench to Fight Hunger. For each rep a participant completes, the sponsors will donate a sum. Many members, including some celebrities, have registered to participate, and so have some employees. Thanks to Britt’s fabulous proposal, we’ve got some big sponsors, including the Toyota dealership and the McDonald’s in Hollywood. The money we raise will go to The Hunger Project and Feeding America.
Dana can’t make it, but Connor arrives shortly after eight and does his part promptly. Although the guy seldom lifts weights, he manages fifteen, which is quite impressive. His presence alone earns a lot of attention, which is great for promotion, especially since we’ve contacted news media about the event and expect coverage online or on TV.
Besides Brittney and me, Darrell and two other trainers are helping out at the contest by providing the participants moral and safety support. Britt’s job is to count , record, and hand out water and souvenir to the participants. The winner will receive a year’s free membership at the gym besides a thousand-dollar cash reward.
When the activities slow, I let my employees join the game.
Darrell and three other trainers eagerly take their turn. Darrell, who lifts weights every day at the end of his shift, completes twenty-two reps. While Jeremy, a part-time trainer taller and larger than him, gets up to twenty. And then it’s my turn.
All eyes are on me as I step next to the weight machine, take a deep breath and lie down on the bench. I breeze through the first ten reps quickly. My record in the past few days was twenty-five, and I wanted to reach it today. But as I get to fifteen, the weight feels heavy, and I have self-doubts. When I get to twenty, my breathing becomes laborious, and my arms seem to tremble. Damn, I shouldn’t have let Brittney tempt me into sex this morning. The woman is the death of me. But even if I could do it again, I wouldn’t be able to resist her, would I? Even now as I’m lying on the bench, under the watchful eyes of my employees, clients, and the news reporters, my attention falls on her steps away.
“You can do it, baby,” she says between counts, gazing at me encouragingly.
Damn. Those bright green eyes and pink lips bring me to our passionate moment, and suddenly a surge of energy spurs me on. “Twenty-four, twenty-five,” I hear her voice. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and lift the weight again, imagining I’m lifting the love of my life like I did this morning.
“Twenty-six! Oh my God!” I hear Britt’s squeal as I finally let go of the bar.
I take a few deep breaths before sitting up, and as soon as I’m on my feet, I pull Brittney to me and give her a tight hug. “Thank you, sweetheart, for the energizer,” I whisper into her ear.
“You’re welcome, honey,” she says, hugging me back. “Good job.”
By the end of the afternoon, we’ve raised about ten thousand dollars, thanks to the enthusiastic participants. Some members also bring their friends and families along, which we encouraged. The news team from KTLA arrives shortly before we announce the winner of the competition, which turns out to be me.
I clear my throat before I announce in front of a small crowd, “Thank you, everybody, for taking part in the first Bench to Fight Hunger charity event. Since I’m the owner of the gym and the organizer of the event, I’ll donate the prize money to charity as well.”
My decision wins me a round of applause and whistles. Nancy Montoya, the news reporter, interviews me, Connor, and a few other participants, before saying goodbye to us.
“Hold on, please,” I say to Nancy. “I have a little request to make.”
