I press my finger against his hole, swirling the pad to try and relax him all while simultaneously sucking his cock back into my mouth. Initially he clenches up not willing to let me in, but after a few seconds of sucking him off he finally begins to relax and I’m able to stick my finger in his ass. I pop my mouth off the tip of his cock but continue stroking it nice and slow to keep the momentum of his pleasure going.
“Oh, fuck!” he cries. “Don’t… fffuck… Robyn…” he stutters through whimpered words, barely able to form a sentence as I go in search of his prostate, and the moment I find the spongy patch inside him, I begin to work it at a nice slow pace, watching as his cock jerks in my hand.
“HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGCHRIST!Right there… Don’t… don’t fucking… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” he chants. So I continue my assault on his prostate, edging him closer to orgasm and turning him into a whimpering, convulsing mess. “I’m coming!” he cries out.
I gently pull my finger from his ass and say, “Come in my mouth… I want to taste you.” He stands up from his swivel chair, threading his hands through my copper hair and I open my mouth, patiently waiting.
He jerks himself a few times before groaning animalistically, “nngh!” and shooting thick ropes of hot cum into my waiting mouth, but he’s shaking so much, half of it ends up covering my face.
As he falls back into his seat, fully spent and a blubbering mess, he looks down at me and watches as I sweep the remnants of his release off my face and into my mouth. Swallowing everything before I poke out my tongue to show him.
“Good boy.” I wink.
“Come here.” He chuckles loudly, bending forward and lifting me into his lap. “I’ll show you what a good boy I can be.”
Inever usually sleep in this late on a Saturday; most of the time I’m up trying to make myself busy so I can stay out of a particular person’s way. However, today is different. After bushing my teeth and grabbing a quick shower, I head downstairs in search of Robyn. Since our little sexual agreement, I can’t seem to keep my hands off her, and whenever she’s near me it’s like my cock just won’t calm itself down.
Last night she prepared dinner consisting of steak, potatoes, and a mix of whatever vegetables I had in the freezer, and I can’t remember the last time someone did that for me—without me having to ask. Needless to say I was a little dubious at first considering I wasn’t aware she could cook in the first place, but it was incredible. The steak was prepared to perfection, and everything else was seasoned tastefully.
After eating, we spent most of the evening talking, getting to know each other, and playing cards while we sat at opposite ends of the bed. A glass of white wine in her hand, a beer in mine. It was… different. Nice. But not something that can continue between us once she leaves.
As awful as it feels to know that, I have to let her go.
This thing between us is nothing more than some no strings or promises attached fun, and thankfully we’re both aware of it. I’m far too old, and she has the rest of her life ahead of her… even if we do have a hell of a lot in common apart from sex.
I spot her sitting at the dining table with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her hair is still wild and messy from last night, and all she’s wearing is one of my oversized T-shirts from my drawer and a pair of my loose-fit cotton boxer shorts.
Music sails from the radio behind her and I lean against the doorjamb watching her for a few moments, getting lost in how stunning she is when she doesn’t think anyone is looking.
It was just until the snow thaws… don’t forget that, Jack.
By tomorrow morning, she’ll be gone.
“Morning.”
Robyn looks up at me and smiles, and fuck if it doesn’t do something to me. “Hey. Good sleep?”
Jesus, she’s beautiful.
No, no, we’re not going there, just answer her question. “It was. I don’t usually sleep past seven, so… yeah, this is a surprise.” I walk over to the chair beside her and take a seat.
“So I was checking out flights this morning, and it seems some are up and running to LA now.”
A sinking feeling rolls through my stomach, and I have no idea why.
This is good, right?
She’s not begging to stay, not professing her love for me and wanting a relationship. This is exactly what I said to her, and… well… she’s following through on that.
So, if that’s the case, why do I want her to stay longer?
“Have you booked anything yet?”
“No,” she sighs.
Why does that make me happy?
“I’m trying to make sure I can actually get to the airport before I book anything. If there’s nobody to take me, I’m not losing money on a flight.” Shetakes one final sip of her coffee and places it back on top of the coffee mat. “Anyway—” She lulls her head to the side and smiles. “Are you hungry?”
