Residence 11 — Short Stories

The way she placed her hand in his as she slipped into her seat, how he strode around the car like others had a reason to envy him—they were acutely aware of the image they presented.

it feels like he wants to get closer to me. To connect with me. And I want that, too. He presses me down against the bed, coming over me un­til we’re chest to chest, limbs intertwined, his hardness press­ing against my stomach.

He would’ve asked more questions but when she dragged her tongue along his cotton-covered cock, his brain went fuzzy. “Beautiful,” she said, pulling it out of his boxer briefs and stroking him with long, slow pulls.

Her lips full and glistening from having had them around Dax’s cock. Her own need wet on the inside of her thighs. Her hair flowed down her back and the collar was tight around her neck and I could say nothing as she approached.

I mean, he is wickedly beautiful, so I guess my eyes have good taste, but come on, mind, we do not spread our legs for evil dream men. Even ones who know their way around a pussy.