Page 36 of The Tryst

“You do?” She sounds delighted.

“I do,” I say, then I don’t fuck around. I go straight for the prize. “Can I take you out next week on that second date? I’m going to be in New York.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds, but I can hear her breathe, and if a breath could sound excited, hers does. “But it’s ourthirddate, Nick,” she says, all seductive and bold.

“I stand corrected.”

“And on our third date, you better take me out and then takeme.”

I groan, a rumble that I feel all the way in my balls. This woman. “Count on it.”

We make plans, then my phone pings. As we talk, I open the photo and groan my approval. She’s in her apartment, stretched out on a red chaise longue, wearing a white tank top, biting the corner of her sexy lips.

“Look at you,” I rasp. “You’re a fucking goddess. I don’t know how I’m going to last through dinner with you.”

“You’ll make it through dinner because you enjoy foreplay so much.”

She knows me well already. “I really fucking do,” I say, then I amend that statement. Personalize it. “With you, beautiful.With you.”

“Same…Want to switch to FaceTime?”

I say yes so goddamn fast. Moments later, I’m lying on my bed while she asks me a crucial question: “What do you want to do to me when you see me?”

She likes it when I take my time, so I cock my head, gazing at her lush body. “Why don’t you slide your hand down your stomach and play with those pretty panties? It’ll help me think.”

She complies, her fingers teasing at the silky fabric. “Is this giving you dirty thoughts about me?”

I groan, then answer, “Filthy ones. It’s definitely helping me along. But maybe take off that tank, beautiful.”

Her white top flies off, then her bra. I hiss at the sight of her full breasts, those dusky-rose nipples already hard. “Thinking more, Nick?”

“I’d like to bite those perky nipples, then suck on them till you squirm.”

She writhes, her hand sliding into her panties. Soon, she’s putting on a show for me. Panting, moaning, begging. “More. What else, Nick?”

That’s so fucking easy. I miss her sweetness badly. “I’d pull you on top of me and tell you to sit on my face.” My cock thumps against my pants. He likes that idea.

Her carnal moan tells me she does too. “I want that,” she says, with desperation that makes my dick even harder.

“You’d grind that sweet pussy against my mouth,” I rasp as I undo my pants.

Her eyes flutter closed, and she rocks her hips faster, murmuringyes, god yes.

“I’d lick and kiss you. Devour you,” I say, gripping my cock to get some goddamn relief. I stroke as I paint a dirty picture. “I’m dying to taste you again. To hold those hips and eat you while you fuck my face.”

The pictures…Dear god, the erotic pictures flipping before me—her grinding on me in a week, and her fucking herself right now—are driving me wild. My fist is flying. “I want you to ride my face till I can’t breathe.”

“Nick,” she moans, then arches her back, crying out as I give her a fifth orgasm.

It’s breathtaking to watch.

Then, it’s mind-numbing to feel as my own arousal takes over, a climax barreling mercilessly through me.

When we’ve caught our breath, I excuse myself and go wash my hands, then I return to our FaceTime, my pants still unzipped.

“That’s one of my favorite things,” she says in a sexy confession.

“Getting off? Yeah, me too.”

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