Then I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It's Michael. I can smell his cologne, and judging by the way his feet fall in uneven movements, I know he's drunk. I can even hear his shoulder dragging against the wall for upport. He's trying to steady himself. It's amazing he even got himself home. I wait and wonder if he's going to come into my room. But when I hear him walk past my door, I know he is heading for the couch in his study and he isn't going to say anything to me. I hear him flop down in his upstairs study and within moments he is snoring.
What am I doing? Maybe Lance was right. It's like I don't exist to Michael. I'm just a means to an end. How can I be happy living in the same house with a man who doesn't love me and who refuses to show me affection? He didn't even once thank me for tonight's dinner. And with Lance in the house, I crave affection even more. I crave Lance. His touch. His body. His manhood. I need him. There's no way I can fall asleep right now.
I decide to do something that I never thought I'd do. I quietly step out of bed. I don't know why I'm being so quiet. Michael is passed out. There's no way any amount of noise will wake him up tonight. But I continue to take light steps down the hall until I reach Lance's room. I lean toward the door trying to detect any sounds, but there's nothing. He must be asleep. I slowly turn the knob and push the door open. I see him, with his full figure; the light from the hall illuminated the chiseled muscles of his chest. He's asleep. I walk in toward the bed, and then I lift the comforter and join him.
48
Lance
I open my eyes as I feel the door cracking open, soft footsteps making their way toward my bed. My eyes try and adjust to the fucking darkness in the room, but all I see is a silhouette walking toward me and sitting down on the bed, the mattress shifting under the added weight. That’s all I need, though. I could recognize these feminine curves everywhere.
“What are you doing here, Jocelyn?” I whisper as she pulls softly on the sheets, getting under them. She nestles her sweet body close to mine, the touch of her warm skin waking up that old fucking hunger. I turn to her, laying one hand on her waist as my eyes meet hers. Just touching it almost makes me lose all fucking control.
“I just had to come,” she whispers, my eyes following the movement of her full lips. She just had to come? Oh, I’m going to make her come, alright.
She places one hand over my bare chest, her fingers sliding down toward my stomach and over my abs. It doesn’t take long for my fucking cock to twitch and harden, desire pulsing in it; by the time her fingers go over the hem of my boxer briefs, they’re already tented over my bulging. Turning her hand, she curls her fingers around my member, pressing her body tightly against mine. “I need this,” she says, softly squeezing my cock.
“You came to the right place, then,” I reply, a smile taking over my lips as I move my hand up her side, her nightgown hiking all the way up to her waist. I let my fingers climb to her shoulders, and I slowly peel the nightgown off of her body, losing it somewhere among the sheets. My forearm brushes against her naked breasts as I undress her, and I realize she’s not wearing a bra; after I took her nightgown off, the only piece of clothing on her body is a fucking black lace thong. Just the way I fucking like it.
“I know. The right place is… wherever you’re this close to me,” she murmurs, pulling my boxers down. My cock jumps free immediately, slapping her across the back of her hand. Kicking off my underwear, I sigh heavily as she curls her fingers around my cock, her soft breathing against my neck filling my blood with the unstoppable rage of lust. Could she be any more fucking perfect?#p#分页标题#e#
Inching closer to me, she crushes her mouth against mine, her tongue sliding past my lips as she starts moving her hand back and forth over my cock. She’s stroking me softly, her hand moving in a patient up and down rhythm, her petite fingers delicately hugging my thick shaft.
Closing her mouth, she nibbles at my lower lip, pulling it harshly; letting go, her lips move down to my neck, laying soft kisses across my skin. With her free hand, she throws the sheets back, her mouth moving down my stomach in a maddening line of lustful promises. With her tongue, she traces the contour of my abs, licking them as if she needed to taste my body to know that I’m fucking real and not just a figment of her imagination. Oh, I’m real… As fucking real as I can possibly be.
My hands are on her head, my fingers running through her silky hair as her lips draw close to my pulsing cock. Kicking and punching, my heart beats faster, anticipating what’s to come. She wraps her luscious lips around my tip, slowly sucking as she keeps on stroking. I close my eyes, savoring her mouth on me and fucking let delight overtake me.