I can feel my cock growing thick and hard. Still thinking of Carrie, I undo my pants and drop them to the ground. The release is sensational as my hard cock springs forward, already sticking straight up like a rocket.
I sit on the edge of my bed, closing my eyes as I wrap my hand around myself. My cock is thick, and it pulsates in my palm. I imagine myself kissing Carrie, sucking on her nipples and stroking her thighs as I begin to stroke my own cock. My hand is wrapped around its base, and I slowly move it up and down.
I’m going down on Carrie now, licking her folds and sucking on her clit. She is moaning with pleasure and I can taste her excitement. As I do, I continue to stroke my cock. I loosen my grip just enough so my hand can slide all the way up and down the long, stiff shaft. It feels amazing, and I imagine what it would be like if it was Carrie’s hand instead of my own.
Up and down I stroke. I increase the speed as I imagine Carrie sitting on it. I increase the tempo as I imagine her bouncing on it, her tits jiggling. She rides me with full force, moaning, screaming. She loves how big I am. I love how tight she is, how wet she is. I fall on my back, imagining her hands pressed on my chest as she rides me. I reach up and squeeze her heaving breasts.
She tells me she is about to come. A playful smile on her lips and her eyes shining with pleasure. I stroke myself harder. She asks me to come with her. I continue to work myself. Up and down. And then, as she comes on top of me, I explode.
I let off a moan as hot, sticky cum shoots from the end of my cock. I don’t even care about the mess it makes. I don’t even care that my hand stays wrapped around my dick long after I finish myself off. All I care about in that moment is Carrie and how much I want her.
Chapter 8
CARRIE
My laptop is my haven. Whenever I’m stressed out, sad or feeling a little emotional, I know I can sit down, spend a few hours typing, and all those emotions will melt right off me. But today, I’m at my laptop for a different reason. It’s all to do with Blake.
He is incredible. I can’t stop thinking about him. I haven’t been able to since last night. My sleep last night was one of the most uncomfortable in recent memory. The moment I got home from my date, I got ready for bed. But it was a fruitless effort as I quickly realized that sleep wasn’t going to come. I tossed and I turned, all the while wondering if I made the right choice in denying Blake. Maybe I should have gone home with him? Maybe I should have invited him in for a night cap?
That is why I’m sitting at my laptop right now. I have all these thoughts running through my head, so I figure I best channel them into my work. I was working on another book, but I’ve decided to put that to the side for now. I feel a fresh wave of inspiration, and I know that while I have that, I best take advantage of it.
My new book will be a romance. It will be filled with passion, love and regret. And, most importantly, it will be inspired by Blake.
***
I have been writing for the better part of two hours now. As predicted, the plot is coming along nicely and I have already come up with some great dialogue. I don’t want to get too cocky, but I think that this is going to be the one. I can just feel it. If I keep this up, there is no way that it won’t be.
As a writer, I am constantly on the lookout for that big break. I am only ever one good piece of work away from writing something that sells. This is going to be it.
All I need is to keep the inspiration coming. That’s going to be the hardest part. What I need is to see Blake again.
I just can’t get last night out of my head. Even now, channeling my thoughts into words, my feelings are as strong as ever. I have never been so turned on before. I have never wanted someone more. I keep telling myself that I made the right choice by coming home instead of going to his. But now, I’m not so sure. What if I never hear from him again?
Divine intervention is a real thing. And if I need any proof, the fact my phone has just started to ring as I am having these thoughts should be all the proof that I need.
Snapping myself back into reality and the moment, I look across to my phone, smiling to myself when I see that it is none other than Blake calling me.
I reach out to pick up the phone, but stop at the last second. The phone has only rung the one time, and I let it ring out a couple more times before finally answering. I want to make him think I am busy, and that he has put me out by calling. I don’t want him to know that I have been thinking about him all night and day.
“Hello?” I say casually as I answer the phone.
“Apparently there are rules that say not to call the next day, but I decided to break them. Just this once,” he says, speaking into the other end of the phone. His voice carries that same effortless charm, and even as he speaks, I feel the need to keep typing. He is a fuel for my inspiration.