HH cock swelled inside me when we came together.
He collapsed beside me on the bed, the two of us trying to rein in our breathing. It had been weeks since I had slept with a man. It had been much longer since a man had my body feeling the way Johnny did. Most of the time, men were selfish, and I was not shy—I would have to demand what I needed or risk having to finish myself off when they stepped into the bathroom. Johnny was different.
I looked over at him and let my eyes travel down his body. I smiled at him, and he beamed back at me. Johnny sat up after a few minutes. He brushed his hand along my leg before getting up and heading to his master bathroom. I waited for him to return, and when he did, he crawled into bed beside me. He stretched an arm around my waist and relaxed at my side. It felt good sticking around for a while.
When I heard his breathing change, I whispered his name. He didn’t answer—he was sleeping. I slid out from under his arm and got out of bed. I tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. This session tonight should hold me over for a while, I thought.
Chapter Seven
Johnny
The next morning, the familiar chirp of my alarm clock woke me up. I rolled over and stretched out an arm. Instant alarms went off in my head. I opened my eyes to check the other side of the bed. It was illuminated by the light filtering through the window. And it was empty. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked toward the master bath. The door was open, but the light was off. She wasn’t in there. The empty condom wrapper on my bedside table confirmed it hadn’t been a dream. Amanda had been here, in my bed. I remembered falling asleep next to her, waiting for our breathing to calm and my heart to stop pounding.
Someone knocked on my door, interrupting my thoughts. It was Kevin’s voice, screaming through the door again.
“I’ll be there in five!” I yelled, not wanting Kevin to burst in on me.
Suddenly, it came back to me as the bits of memories rearranged themselves in my groggy mind. Her scent, her taste, her smile, her touch. God, making love to her was mind-blowing. But then she left in the middle of the night?
I flopped on my back, wondering why she bothered going back to her room again, why she had not stayed with me. Images of the rest of the night came back too, in vivid detail. My cock throbbed and stiffened again, just from the memory. I threw off the sheets and went to have a shower. I could easily have indulged myself with a replay of the night’s events as I stood in the privacy of the shower—except there wasn’t enough time. Instead, I cut it short, dried off and threw on some clean clothes before rushing downstairs. I tried not to let myself think too much about what I was going to say to Amanda.
When I stepped into the kitchen, she was sitting at the breakfast bar, looking down at something on her phone.
“Good morning,” I said, clearing my throat when I rounded the corner. I stopped on the opposite side of the counter, interested in what her reaction would be to last night.
“Good morning, Johnny,” she said. She glanced up at me with a brief smile before looking back down at her phone. “How are you doing today?”
I was thrown off by her response. Her tone was professional and friendly; almost cool. Personally, I was hoping for warm and tender—and a bit of enthusiasm to see me wouldn’t hurt either. But this? She acted like nothing happened last night. I wasn’t expecting it. And now I wasn’t sure how to act. I turned to the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice.
“Did you, uh, sleep well?” I asked, careful not to be too suggestive in my tone.
“I did, thank you.”
I looked up from the glass of juice I was pouring. She smiled at me again. I was captivated by this woman. I got so distracted I ended up over-pouring the orange juice. It overflowed and spilled onto the counter.
“Shit,” I said under my breath, embarrassed.
She
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