Page 57 of Flirting with the Stranger

“Fuck, cupcake. Your pretty, pink pussy is primed for me. Imagine me running my tongue up your pussy, devouring you, savoring your taste. My hand wraps around my fat, throbbing cock. I line up to your hole and thrust inside. With each pump of my hips, I’d kiss you and swallow your moans as I sink deep inside you.”

I exhale a moan as I push a finger inside. It’s nowhere near the size of Van, but it’ll have to do. When I pull out, I add a second finger, stretching me a little more.

“Van.” I pant. “I feel you inside me. My fingers are drenched with my arousal for you.”

I pull my fingers out, rub my clit, and plunge back in. I repeat this over and over again. My back arches as my orgasm builds. Stars dance behind my eyelids, and I know at any moment I’m going to burst with pleasure. It builds and builds until I’ve reached the point of no return.

“Oh God, Van. I’m going to come.”

“Me too, cupcake. You’re gripping my cock so tight right now. I’m thrusting harder. Faster. I’m ready to explode.”

My motions mimic his words, thrusting harder and faster.

“I can’t hold on any longer. Fuck. I’m coming.”

Both of us release at the same time. My entire body ruptures like a volcano. I pinch my eyes shut and call out Van’s name as my body rockets to the stars. Each of my extremities tingle with bliss. Slowly, I fall back down to Earth. Sated and satisfied. When I open my eyes and stare at the screen, Van’s grip on his cock slows. A splatter of cum covers his stomach.

My chest heaves as I roll over and lie on my side. I prop the phone on the pillow next to me and hold it steady with my hand. “I have to admit that was a first for me.”

“I’m inclined to go away more often, so we can do more of that.”

“Maybe we can just go to separate rooms. I don’t like when you’re not here.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“After that, I might need a nap. Then the girls want to meet for dinner later. What are your plans?”

“I have a few things to take care of around here. I’ll let you get to your nap, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” I blow a kiss to the camera. We say goodbye one more time before ending the call. I set the phone down next to me, deciding I do need that nap. I reach down and grab the corner of the blanket, tug it over me, and drift off to a relaxing sleep.

* * *

Several hours later my eyelids flutter open, the setting sun casting a warm glow in my bedroom. I was having the best dream where I got to watch Van’s fingers wrapped around himself, up and down, as he stroked himself to orgasm. I shut my eyes, hoping to continue where I left off, but all I can picture is a black screen. Wait? Was that a dream? I lift the end of the blanket and peek under. Well, shit. Maybe it wasn’t.

My phone buzzes next to me on the bed. Butterflies swarm in my belly, hoping it’s a message from Van. When I flip the phone over, the butterflies turn to wasps when I see the name.

Josie: I have a huge favor. I need a cake for a birthday party. I’m thinking about three tiers. A coffee layer cake with vanilla espresso buttercream. Oh, and I need it by next weekend. You can do that right?

I slam the phone down. I don’t have the energy to answer her right now. Plus, a three-tier cake in a week? Does she think I have nothing else to do except wait for her cake orders? Ugh! I climb out of bed, grab my robe dangling off the back of a chair, shove my arms into the holes, and tie the belt around my waist. I slide my phone into the pocket and descend the stairs. My hand flies to my chest and I cup a breast with my hand. Normally, I’m used to wandering around my house without a bra, but today my boobs are sore and tender to the touch. I lighten my steps in order to prevent any bouncing as I pass through the living room and into the kitchen. When I cross the threshold, my stomach growls on cue as if it knows where I am and demands food. I check the time on the digital clock on the stove. Four-thirty. I’m meeting with the girls in a couple of hours, so a quick snack will tide me over.

After I have some of my favorite BellaVitano black pepper cheese cut into chunks, I toss a handful of crackers on a plate and place the cheese in the middle. I pull out a jar of Kalamata olives, spoon out several, and place them next to the cheese. My mini charcuterie board might be a little more than a snack, but I’m sure I’ll enjoy every bite and I might even lick the plate when I’m done.

I plop down on my couch and rest my snack board on my lap. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and turn on the Food Network. I need something to occupy my time for a bit. Because I’m a glutton for punishment I text Josie back letting her know I’ll do the cake. It’s hard to turn down the money.

* * *

I cover my mouth to stifle a yawn. We’ve been at Porter’s for over an hour. I pick a french fry from the basket and dip it in my half mayo and half ketchup mixture and pop it into my mouth. We’ve talked about everyone else’s lives, so it was only a matter of time before I became the topic of conversation.

“What’s happening with the bakery?” Charlie asks.

“Nothing new. Everything is still up in the air. He did agree to opening a few days a week to serve our usual customers and I was able to hire back our two part-time employees. One moment it’s like we’re moving in the right direction, and then we’re standing still the next. But right now, he’s in the Cities for a couple of job interviews, so, it’s not looking good.” I lazily swirl a french fry in the dip before tossing it in my mouth.

“He’s moving away?” Olivia asks.

“I’m not sure what his plan is. I’m always left with more questions than answers. I hate being in limbo. With my life. With the bakery. Everything. I want to move forward.” I sigh.

“Can’t he move back to the Cities and you run the place since you practically know how to do everything, anyway? It’ll be like he’s a silent partner,” Parisa says.

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