“Jada, I’ve had a chat with Max, and I think it is great that that the two of you are moving in together. However, I’d like it if you could spend this evening at home with your mother and me, and Milan, of course.”
“Why, thanks, Dad,” Milan muttered. “For a minute there, I thought you all forgot about me!”
“I doubt anyone could forget about you, darlin’,” Marco drawled, his eyes lingering on Milan’s tight pink t-shirt and extremely fitted jeans that moulded her luscious curves.
Milan ignored Marco completely and continued talking. “I can drop you off on Monday; we can have a girlie night. Looks like you are all alone, Max; maybe you can keep that brother of yours under control. Mia, would you like to join us?”
Damn it.
I wouldn’t get to fuck Max tonight after all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MAX
Three hours later, I lay on my king-sized bed, and tossed and turned for the hundredth time, but I still couldn’t get to sleep. My mind was constantly filled with images of Jada, and I was sporting the biggest hard-on known to man. Fuck, why did I have to ‘comprise’ one night without her? I must have been insane even suggesting that to Michael Sinclair. I should have put my foot down and demanded she come home with me. Fuck!
I gazed at the ceiling, wide-awake. For the last two hours, I was picturing Jada’s legs, ass and tits in that bikini she wore that day by the pool. Jesus, I was behaving like a teenager again; that was what she did to me. The way that yellow sundress clung to her body today made me want to rip it off and show off all her delicious curves.
She didn’t even deliberately tease me, either; Jada would look sexy wearing almost anything. After saying goodnight to her at her parents’ home around seven-thirty, kissing her senseless just outside the front door, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could get up and do some work in my study, but work didn’t appeal to me right that minute. Having a drink with Marco and Zane at the local pub didn’t sound any more appealing. So I decided to watch some television, which did nothing to make me forget about her. I was surfing channels, not even paying any attention to what I was watching, so I sauntered off to bed.
Here I was, on my bed with my dick as rigid as a flagpole. I tried to think of something nonsexual, like my conversation with my father or with Sinclair, just to try to abate the throbbing in my groin.
But then Jada would float into my mind’s eye again, and I’d be back to square one; hard, horny and hating it.
There was a solution. I could beat myself off; there was no shame in beating off. Before Jada, I had a full and active sex life, and I needed a release.
So I closed my eyes, spread my legs and took myself in my hand. I imagined Jada easing that yellow sundress up, revealing the creamy expanse of her thighs and taut belly. In my fantasy, she always wore sexy lingerie with garters, suspenders and the sheerest hose.
I continued to stroke my cock from root to tip. I envisioned her sliding her dress completely off and cupping her tits. They were perfect and with me being a tit-man; I was in my glory. Her thumbs drew circles around the rosy nipples, brushing the tips until they puckered. She moaned and slid her palms down her belly, beneath the waistband of her underwear. Her long, blonde hair whipped from side to side as she slid the flimsy lingerie off. Her pussy was always smooth like it had been in the limo. She traced the line of her slit with a slender finger, parting her delicate, pink folds.
Oh, fuck yeah. My hand on my cock started to move faster; I wanted her to watch me as I beat off. When she spread her legs, I had a clear view of her glistening sex. She thrust her middle finger into her pussy and moaned softly as she pumped her fingers in and out.
She continued pleasuring herself in front of me and every now and then, she would stop to pull her fingers out and let me lick the juices off them; fuck, I could remember how sweet she tasted. The more she worked herself, the harder I stroked myself. When she started grinding the heel of her hand into her clit and pinching her nipple, the movement of my hand working my cock became louder. I totally lost it when she pulled her fingers from her juicy sex and sucked them into her own wicked mouth. I furiously continued to pull on my cock until I came. My release spurted out and coated my hand.
I regained my breath and opened my eyes; I was dreaming and alone. Damn it, it was like a dream. I was having a wank to a dream, again!
But fuck, what a dream it was.
***
JADA
“Okay, I want details. What is Max like in bed?” demanded Milan, sitting on my bed re-folding some of my lingerie I had haphazardly strewn all over the floor back into my suitcase.
My sister was such a pushy bitch, and she would not give up until I told her something. Anything. Milan had far more experience than I did; she had a boyfriend all through university and only broke up with him a few months ago. Even in high school, she was always ‘attached’ to some guy. Not me. I lost my virginity when I was twenty-one, and that was old compared to Milan! Not that my sister was a tart or anything but…well, yeah, she was a bloody tart!