Page 74 of When It's Us
She pulls back slightly to lock eyes with me, and gives me a slow pump, mouth close, causing a bead of pre cum to smear across her lip. She licks it clean, slow and filthy. Then runs her tongue around the head before taking me deeper.
My head drops back. Fuck, her mouth is perfect. When her hand slips into my boxers to tug on my balls, I jerk forward, hitting the back of her throat.
She gags.
A groan escapes me—low, satisfied, feral.
She hums around my cock, fingers gripping my ass, yanking me deeper. Her eyes tear up and she chokes again, coughing around me.
A smug little chuckle rattles my chest.
Her eyes flash. A silent ‘fuck you’.
But then she hollows out her cheeks and takes me deeper.
“I’m gonna come in your mouth, California. If you don’t want that, you better tell me right fucking now,” I pant. “Your mouth is too good.”
She mumbles something around a mouth full of my cock, unintelligible.
I groan. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”
She pulls off me with a lewd pop. “Then do it already, Bigfoot,” breathless, hungry, “and quit being a pussy. I can feel you holding back. Fuck my face or don’t bother.”
Her words shove me over the edge and my cock pulses, filling her mouth.
“Open up,” I tell her. “Let me see it, California.”
A groan vibrates my chest at the memory of her mouth full of my cum, pink tongue out like a perfect little cum slut.
“Swallow it,” I pant, alone in the dark, my balls drawing up tight.
And that’s all it takes.
“Jesus. Fuck.Fuuuck,” I moan, head thrown back, as my cock pulses in my fist. Ropes of cum shoot across my stomach and chest. I come hard, breath catching in my throat, eyes slammed shut and it feels like it lasts forever.
When I can finally breathe again, I’m wrecked. Laying there, coated in cum, heart pounding.
I roll to my side, grab my shirt from the floor and wipe myself down. Tossing it on the floor, I fall back against the pillows, lungs still pulling in air.
And even after all that, one thought won’t let go.
I don’t have one fucking clue how I’m ever going to get Ginger out of my system.
Ginger
DowntownTimberForgelookslike it was plucked from a postcard. Not a single chain store in sight, just flower boxes, glass-front shops, and brightly colored awnings lining a sleepy two-lane road. The weather is perfect—warm but breezy—and most businesses have their doors propped open to let the morning air drift in.
There’s a charming town square anchored by a white gazebo and a massive pine tree, the kind of place that probably looks magical in winter. No wonder Wren loves it here.
Timber’s Treats sits on Main Street, nestled between a yellow-doored bookstore and an old mechanic’s shop with a faded "For Sale" sign in the window. It’s already busy when I pull up in Hayley’s borrowed car, the scent of coffee and maple drifting through the open door.
The walls are white, save one with exposed brick, and an archway leads to the bookstore next door. When I’d mentioned to Wren last night that I might go into town to get a little work done this morning, she told me not to forget to stop by here and get something yummy.
I don’t know if Natalie realized I was in town, but the moment she spots me from behind the counter, her face lights up. She grins,waves, and says something to a coworker before slipping off her apron.I step closer as she comes around the counter, still smiling widely. She looks so much like Hank—same hazel eyes, same wavy dark hair pulled into a low ponytail that swings down her back.
“I wondered when you’d be in town.” She pulls me into a hug.
“It’s great to see you,” I tell her, returning her hug.
