He brushes a kiss on my neck. My lips find his ear. “Fill me up. I want every drop inside me.”
It takes three thrusts for me to shatter around his dick. I’m not drunk or even tipsy, but I’ve never been so turned on before. Who would’ve thought sex in an alley with a guy whowasn’t even in high school when I graduated would give me the best orgasm of my life?
After feeling him do exactly what I asked, which was to fill me with all of his cum, I return to reality.
When I look around and realize we’re still very much in a public alleyway and the people on the street probably heard me screaming, panic slithers up the back of my spine.
He’s still panting into my neck, his dick pulsing. I struggle against him. My legs start to go numb.
He pulls back, his blue eyes bright with lust. I look away, unable to hold his steady gaze.
I’m a mother with responsibilities, and we just broke so many laws. We could literally go to jail for this.
What’s the punishment for having sex in public in Tennessee?
I don’t want to find out. I squirm against him. He squeezes my ass cheeks one more time with his big, callous hands before lifting me off of him. I gasp at the sudden empty feeling. He sets my feet down on the ground, making sure I’m steady before he lets go. I catch a fleeting look at his dick before he tucks it into his jeans.
I’m adjusting my thong back into place when he reaches over, tugging my skirt back down over my hips and shifting my top to cover my breasts.
The rational side of my brain clicks back into place. I glance around, hoping no one saw us. I look up around the building, and I spot a camera in the corner.
“What did we just do?” I whisper.
He’s tucking his shirt into his jeans. His eyes rise to look up around the area. “They won’t check them without a reason to.”
His semen is seeping out of me, soaking my underwear. My throat dries up when he grabs my hand, lifting it to kiss my knuckles.
“Don’t stress about it, Mamas. I’ll take care of you.” He reaches up, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “By the way, since when do you have such a filthy mouth? I never expected that from the single mom who usually acts like I don’t exist.”
I bat my lashes at him, the concern pinching my stomach fading away when a giggle bubbles out of me.
“You liked that, hmm?”
He nods, groaning when he pulls open the big metal door. He smacks my ass when I walk through.
“I fucking loved it.”
The next morning, butterflies flutter through my stomach when I see a glass of water, cloudy with electrolytes, and ibuprofen beside the bed.
Wow. I am pathetic with a capitalP.
Someone thinking about me enough to make sure I have a hangover cure shouldn’t get me that excited. Before becoming a mom, I always thought my love languages were gifts and words of affirmation. I loved to receive expensive, well-thought-out gifts and to be told that I looked pretty.
Both of those things seem petty to me now.
Acts of service, hands down, are what makes me feelloved now. Someone doing simple, nice things for me means the world.
I down the two tablets and half the water. When I climb out of bed, I look down and realize I’m wearing Duke’s button-down from last night.
The drunken events of the night before tumble through my mind.
Duke and I had sex.
In public.
In a fucking alleyway.
Then I danced on him all night, and we made out multiple times in front of his family. I sat on his lap on the way home and passed out before we even made it back to the rental house.
