She works until five today and our show isn’t until seven. Which gives us just enough time to head out fromSecheaand get drinks at this bar I made reservations for, and dinner at this cute little cafeteria next to it between Madison Square Garden before the show. It’s got something like ten or twelve little independent food kiosks so I’m sure there will be something there we can both agree on, and if not, there’s plenty of options for us to get whatever we want. Not to mention, it’s trendy looking, so she should love it.
“Are we done here?” I ask, not trying to sound abrasive, but I’m starting to get antsy and feel a bit defeated with the lot of properties I’ve seen today.
I need a good, hot shower, a good orgasm, and some fresh clothes.
“Yes,” Margo says with a customer-service smile. I know that type of grin, the kind that is fake as shit that you put on when you really want to scream at someone.
I feel bad, realizing I’ve probably just wasted her time looking at these places that I am not going to pounce on in the least.
“I’ll put a list of properties together and email you tomorrow, if that is okay? We can look at things on Monday if you are going to stay.”
I nod. “Monday is fine.”
Savannah is supposed to fly out Sunday to go home, where she’ll be for a few days before she heads to California to help with wardrobe and makeup for some festival out there.
“Alright, I’ll be in touch,” Margo says as she leads us out of the building.
As soon as I make it through the door of my hotel, I jump in the shower. My clothes come off in record time, even for me, and the minute the hot water hits my skin, it’s a relief.
I let out a groan of satisfaction, my cock rejoicing, knowing it’s finally time to get off.
I’ve waited all day for this. Pushed off every thought and every twitch, knowing I’d get here eventually and I’d take care of myself.
I don’t bother to edge myself, because I’ve been doing it all day; waiting, telling myself just another few hours…
My mind threatens to wander and I let it because I’m too exhausted to fight the thoughts.
I’m all worked up from this morning, with Cam, from a bust of a day viewing properties, and from being off my routine.
So I let my mind fill in the blanks for once. I imagine soft, pillowy lips and a warm tongue in my mouth, a warm palm on my hip, fingernails digging into my skin. My cock throbs at the memory, knowing how it felt.
A mixture of shame and guilt plagues me like it always does when I let my guard down.
I don’t have it in me to keep the walls up right now, because I need this.
My thumb slides over my sensitive head as I squeeze it tightly, thrusting my hips forward.
The memory radiates through me, lighting up every nerve ending, making my cock throb and weep with precum.
His tongue in my mouth.
His hand on my neck, his grasp firm and warm.
His hardness sliding against my own.
My heart and my cock chase the inevitable release. It’s always like this, when I think about it. When Ireallythink about it, because so often I fight it.
I know what I want, but I can’t have it, and that’s always been the problem, I think.
I swallow the lump in my throat as his words echo in my head.
Yes. I do.
I’d asked him if he regretted what happened, and he said yes.
But I never got to tell him that Idon’t.
I don’t regret what happened between us, because I’ve never felt with anyone, what I felt withhimthat night.
