Her message alone gave me a half-chub, and the invitation behind it only added to that. I wanted to hop on my bike and drive out to see her, but it was too soon.
Me:Duly noted. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.;) I sent back as I strolled into my bedroom. I set my phone on the top of my dresser, pulling open drawers for a pair of well-worn jeans and a t-shirt. I dressed, unwilling to acknowledge how frequently my eyes darted to my phone.
Then it rang, vibrating against the counter, and I picked it up quickly.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, leaving the bedroom and walking down the stairs. “Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was doing some yard work.” I crossed over to the refrigerator. I opened it, grabbing a beer from the shelf, and closed it. Cracking the top, I took a deep sip, my eyes going to the clock above the microwave as I drank.
“That’s all right; I figured you were busy.” She said without an ounce of irritation. My mom knew me well—she knew I was a lot like my father, that I couldn’t stay idle. She never took my silences personally, which made me feel guiltier for disappearing on her as often as I had. “I’m just calling to make sure it’s still okay that I come out next weekend?”
“Of course, we’re both looking forward to seeing you. Sawyer wanted to do the gardens, so we’re going to be planting some things.” Mom loved gardening; it was one of her favourite pastimes.
“That’s wonderful!” Mom said, and I could hear how excited she was. “Well, I’m just about to head out with the girls. We’re going to catch a movie!”
“Have fun.” I smiled. “Talk to you later. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too,” she said fondly. “I’ll call you later this week.”
I was just about to put my boots on and head to the garage when I realized I’d received a new message.
Gwen:Would it be casual if I told you I’m horny for you? Because I am. If you’re not busy, you should come over for a bit. If you are busy…well. I’ll just have to entertain myself ;)
I opened it, my cock hardening at just her words. Before I could reply, she sent another message—a photo of the lower half of her face, below her eyes.
Her lips and her collarbone being the focal point, with that steampunk bird on her collarbone, her dark hair pushed behind her creamy shoulders. The top curves of her breast filled the bottom portion of the photo, cutting off before her nipples. It wasn’t a nude picture, but it was erotic as hell, and it made my hands twitch with the urge to drive to her place.
I stood in the foyer, staring at that picture, my desire and my head warring with one another. Tig seemed to know before me—usually, he’d follow me out to the garage and lay down with his head facing the driveway while I worked on various projects. That meant he was at my heels, waiting impatiently to get to the garage, but he’d already settled down on the foyer rug.
Dumping the remainder of my beer down the bathroom sink, I paused to grab my truck keys before locking up.
Can I stop for anything?I texted her before I put the key in the ignition and turned it.
Got it covered. Just hurry. ;)
I drove ten clicks over the speed limit until I got closer to town, then I forced myself to slow down. I pulled up to the curb in front of her building and parked. Running a hand through my still damp hair, I opened the door.
Stepping out, I shut the door and hit the lock button on the key fob while walking up the short concrete pathway to the building doors.
Music pumped from somewhere within the building, same as last night. Like the night before, someone had placed a brick to keep the door from closing fully, and I shoved it aside with my boot after opening the door.
I took the steps two at a time, and before I could raise my fist to knock on her door, it was swinging open.
She was dressed in a white tank and a pair of black sleep shorts; no bra, I could easily make out the rose hue of her nipples through the thin material of her top.
“Points for providing fast service,” she teased, standing aside to let me in.
“Well, it was a sexy photo,” I replied, unashamed now that I was in front of her. She flushed prettily, her lashes brushing against the lens of her glasses as she dropped her gaze for a moment. I stepped toward her, my hand slipping around her waist, my thumbs brushing over her hipbone before I walked her backwards, pinning her against the door.
I ground my pelvis into hers, and she let out a moan. I caught it with a kiss, pressing my lips to hers. My tongue swept across her bottom lip, begging for entrance, and her lips parted eagerly.
Each stroke of her tongue was the kindling, and each pass of her fingers against my skin was the gasoline, the friction of our bodies the only spark required to make us both ignite.
She let out a tortured gasp, her head dropping back against the door with a dull thud as I sucked on her neck. My hand slipped beneath her tank top, and my fingers brushed against the undersides of her heavy breasts before I grabbed hold of one, squeezing and rolling her nipple between my thumb and index fingers.
“Alaric,” she moaned, her hands wrestling with the button of my jeans. Finally, I felt the button give. Gwen worked the zipper down and pushed both my jeans and my boxers down enough to free my goods.
As her fist enclosed around me, my fingers slipped into her sleep shorts, finding her slick with need. My fingers sank into her, and I felt her clenching around me.
The pad of her finger swirled the pre-cum against my crown, and I let out a low growl, withdrawing my hand and picking her up. I carried her to the nearest piece of furniture—the sofa.
