Page 52 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
“You knew I could do this for you though, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think about it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve thought about it too, Birdie. Fucking hell, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you. I thought about it the first time I saw you and I’ve thought about it ever since I saw your beautiful tits that night in your room.”
She writhes around, magnificently, whimpering.
“You’re beautiful. I think you’re beautiful, you know that, right?”
“Eddie.”
I curl my fingers to massage her G-spot, and that’s when something awesome happens.
Birdie Beckett screams my name, contracting and releasing around my fingers, and nowI’mflying.
I brace her torso against mine with one arm as she comes and comes and comes, alternately sounding like she’s in pain and in ecstasy.
Arching her neck, she swears a blue streak, and Shakespeare himself could not have written a more beautiful monologue.
There’s no song or music that could make my heart race more than the sound of her wailing and the rhythm of the hurricane of pleasure that’s ripping through her.
I wait until she’s gone completely still before pulling my fingers out and massaging her tits again.
I’m high as a kite and hard as a rock, and I don’t want this to be over.
Just when I’m about to kiss her neck again, she wriggles around, and I feel her hand on my cock.
Fucking hell, she is the best friend I have ever had.
