I want to shake her, make her come undone.
“I’ll see you around, Creampuff. Call me if you fantasize about murdering anyone in their sleep.”
I leave,circle the block, and wait up on the hilltop until the lights go off in the house.
I don’t intend to see her around. Between the kiss and still remembering how greedily her pussy yielded to my cock, I’m not just walking away from her.
I pull the mask on and walk up softly to the back door.
Fidget is in the kitchen. The fridge is open. She’s doing a better job than my six-year-old half brothers at making a sandwich.
“You didn’t see me, and I didn’t see you,” I whisper to the dog as she carefully, with her teeth, opens up the bread box and selects a slice. “Where’s Winnie?” I ask the dog.
She just wags her tail at me.
Okay, border collies are smart—maybe not that smart.
Fair enough.
Winnie’s not in the living room. Kathy’s sprawled out on the sofa.
She’s not upstairs either. Her grandmother is in her office, snoring with her head on a pillow on the floor.
When I come back down, Fidget is at the table, eating her sandwich with dainty snaps. She wags her tail at me then extends her neck.
I look in the direction her nose is pointing: the laundry room.
“Fine, my apologies.” I give her a little bow then put away some of the condiments that didn’t quite make it back into the fridge.
Winnie is in the laundry room down the hallway off the kitchen. The dryer is running, and the room is warm. She’s got half a glass of wine next to her hand that’s flopped off the side of the air mattress.
Next time I see her, I’m going to fuck her awake.
This time?
I kneel down, slide my hands in their gloves up the soft skin of her legs, up her curvy thighs to the dimples where the thighs meet her hips. She lets out a breath as I push the T-shirt fabric up to see the curve of her belly.
Her legs fall open. I can smell her pussy through the fabric of the panties.
It’s intoxicating.
And it’s all mine.
I don’t even pull the panties down, just mouth her through the thin fabric, taste her through the mask. Roll in the scent of her desire.
She stirs, half awake.
Her hands fumble around my shoulder.
“Wait—unnn.”
My breath is hot and erratic through the mask, through the thin wet fabric of her panties as I mouth her.
“God, that—that’s—guys don’t do that,” she mumbles above me, her hands patting at the mask.
I nose the panties to the side.
Rub the seam of the mask against her clit—
