Your erotic stories

Too many erotic stories. Erotic stories free to watch. Only the best porn stories and sex stories


Category: Group Sex
BadFairGoodInterestingSuper Total 0 votes

The tray was cold and hard. I could feel my flesh shrinking from the way it felt under me.

A shiver stole over me and I felt my nipples growing hard. Of course, being naked as the day I was born could have something to do with the chill. I managed to recline like I was told, on my side, barely able to wait until the tray warmed at my body heat.

“You could have warmed this up,” I muttered.

“Nice,” the chef said acting as if he hadn’t heard a word I said. He smoothed his wide palm over the curve of my sleek hip and moved my bottom leg just enough so that I had balance while straightening the top one. “You will make a beautiful centerpiece.”

“Yeah,” I snapped, already hating this like I knew I would. “I just live to be covered with fruit and flowers and ogled by a bunch of horny college guys.”

The chef just chuckled, tapping me gently on the jaw with his fist.

For the life of me, I didn’t know how I had gotten suckered into doing this, into being the centerpiece at an alumni get together at my brother’s alma mater. His fraternity hosted this damn thing once a year and this year I got to be the edible centerpiece.

Well, yeah, I did know how I got here. I mean, I was the one who made the bet on the football game with him when he was home in December. I was so cockily sure my team would win and his Eagles would swan dive that I’d agreed to do what he wanted if I lost.

We didn’t just lose, we floundered.

That left Denny rubbing his hands in glee and telling me about this little ritual at the Frat house. I guess those Pi Alpha Omegas had some really kinky ideas about food.

“You just have to lay there, Steph,” he’d told me, a grin on his face. “The guy that caters this for us does all the rest. He’s fantastic at making living centerpieces.”

“You want me to climb up on a tray, have fruit and other food draped over me artistically and lie there while your frat brothers feel me up while they eat?” I had asked, with very little enthusiasm as I recall.

“It won’t hurt you,” he said, reminding me with a small pat on my ass that I had lost.

“Besides, remember the bridal shower you made me go to?

“I knew I’d live to see the day you threw that in my face.” But I couldn’t help but remember that day. He’d been great, working like a dog to help me set up and then getting one of his hunky friends to come in and strip for the girls. Then he’d played cab service, making sure that everyone got home all right and finally pouring me into bed later that night. I sighed. I owed him.

“I don’t have to do nothing else?”

“Nope, just lie there. No one will do anything to you that you don’t want to happen.”

I took the last part of that conversation as a warning and felt a shiver of dread. Now that the time was here, my stomach was a mass of butterflies and I could feel gooseflesh covering my skin.

“You look a little cold,” the chef remarked, his eyes on my breasts.

I couldn’t help but glance down, seeing the small brown tips grow tight. “You think?” I know I was being rude but for the life of me, I couldn’t find it in me to care. “Can we just get on with this?”

“Yeah, sure,” the man said, pulling down on his white jacket.

That’s when I saw his name. Pierre Lefute. If he was French, then I was a guy.

“Turn your head,” he ordered, and I did as he said, feeling his fingers in my hair. He pulled out the rubber band I’d used to keep my thick, sable colored hair back, slipping it into his pocket before he finger combed my hair. The waves and curls looked startlingly dark against the silver of the tray, and he arranged it the way he wanted it to look, the length just long enough to touch the edges of the tray.

“Okay, now on your side, slip your hand under your cheek. I want you to have a dreamy look, kind of like you just woke up after some very naughty dream.”

I moved as he wanted, finally getting into a position that left me comfortable and didn’t offend his artistic sensibilities. I had to admit though that I felt very exposed as both my butt and my pussy were out there for anyone to see. It grew worse as I felt his hands on my legs, pushing the straight one back and bending the other one so that it was toward him more. That position raised my hips just a bit more and I knew anyone standing at the bottom of the tray would get a fantastic view.

So absorbed in I in how I must look, I nearly jumped off the tray when he reached over and smoothed his hand over the thick thatch of curls that covered my sex.

“No, no this won’t do at all,” he said and I had a bad feeling what was going to happen next was not something I was going to enjoy. “Have you ever shaved this?” he asked, his fingers pulling gently at my pubic hair.

“No, and don’t think you’re going to do it either,” I snapped.

“Then it must be trimmed. Don’t move,” he snapped back at me as he laid a towel next to my hip. I felt his fingers, heard the sound of the scissors and then felt the cool touch a blade slide over my flesh. I didn’t dare move. He’d probably cut me on purpose.

He finished quickly and then I felt the touch of his fingers and a cool oily substance that he rubbed into my suddenly nude feeling skin. I didn’t dare lift my head to see what he’d done and could only gasp when he spread apart the lips of my pussy and rubbed his fingers against my clit.

“I knew you’d like it,” he said, smirking at me. Before I could speak, he leaned down and licked one of my hard nipples before turning away.

I didn’t even have the chance to be indignant at his familiarities before two more men were standing around me. They carried huge bowls of fruit and Pierre held a large green wrapped package of flowers.

“Do not move,” he ordered.

White daisies were coiled into my hair, strawberries and grapes were scattered around my body. Apples were sliced, formed into shapes and laid against my skin. Peaches and pears were also cut into shapes and glued to my skin using some kind of sugary syrup. Leafy greens were fanned out under the fruit that was on the tray, making me feel like some kind of sacrifice, like a turkey at Thanksgiving.

An apple was cored and sliced, the rings glued to each of my breasts so that my nipples showed through the holes in the centers. Strawberries, matched as perfectly in size as Pierre could make them, were glued over the holes. I felt as if I were wearing some kinky new kind of bikini. But at least I was now covered some what.

More of the syrup was ladled over me, running in trails down my skin, leaving it to shine and making me shiver. One of the other men made curving lines of blueberries over my hip and down my stomach. The other took slices of kiwi and dotted my legs with them.

Then he picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into the liquid, running it around my eyes and across my cheeks. A mask was formed, using raspberries and black berries.

I felt the brush on other parts of my body, but what ever they were using to “paint” me was warm and slightly thick. “What’s that?” I couldn’t help ask.

“Melted chocolate,” Pierre answered, showing me the small palate he held that had small tubs of different colored chocolate. He swirled designs around the fruit, drawing an ivy vine that bloomed with chocolate flowers.

It took them less than half an hour to create their “living centerpiece” while I lay there, feeling less than human. Finally, Pierre stepped forward once more. In his hand was a huge white flower. It looked like a daisy but it was the biggest one I’d ever seen.

“The piece de resistance,” he exclaimed. I felt his fingers once more, parting the lips of my sex, the thick stem of the flower sliding between. He stepped back to examine his work, coming back to fidget with the flower, which rubbed against my clit each time he moved it.

“Are you done yet?” I growled, hating the fact that this whole thing had gotten me turned on. I still had hours to lie on this tray while the alumni plucked the fruit off of my body.

The thought made me even hotter. Was I a closet exhibitionist? Could that be why I was enjoying this so?

“Yes, impatient one. We are finished. Now don’t move, you’ll spoil the effect.” He stepped back and I saw a flash of white light.

“Wait a minute, no one said anything about pictures.”

“Don’t move!” Pierre snarled, reaching out and putting back the fruit that had fallen off of me. He took another picture and then moved around the long table, getting shots from every angle.

“Voila,” he smirked when he was finished. He waved at his assistants and then lifted the tray, moving me to a long cart. “Have fun, girlie.”

“Have fun?” I couldn’t believe I’d heard him right. I was sticky and covered in fruit and chocolate with a flower stem rubbing against my clit and driving me crazy. This was supposed to be fun? I was going to kill Denny if I ever made it out of here.

Swinging doors parted and I was wheeled into a huge room full of tables. The air conditioning was going full blast and I could feel my nipples tighten even more. I was going to end up with pneumonia, I just knew it. Ending up in the hospital with pneumonia would be a perfect way to get even with Denny. He’d never live down the guilt of being the cause of my death. At least when he helped me, all that happened was someone puked in his car and I even cleaned that up.

Someone touched my hip in one of the few places that wasn’t covered with fruit, chocolate or flowers and I glanced up.

“You’ll do fine.” It was one of Pierre’s assistants, and as I blinked up at him, I couldn’t help but think how cute he was.

“Thanks, I think,” I felt the blush that heated my cheeks and hoped the fruit covered it.

He reached out, straightening one of the lock of my hair that had slipped forward. “I’m Jess,” he said.

“Stephanie,” I replied. “I’d shake hands but…” One of my hands was painted with chocolate flowers, the other was covered with blueberries and cherries.

“We don’t want Pierre on our cases,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “The man’s a lunatic but he does know what he’s doing when it comes to this stuff. You look amazing.”

“Really?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as self conscious as I felt.

“Really,” he replied. “After this is over, if you want, I can show you the pictures we took.”

“I don’t know, I kind of thought I’d rather forget this entire experience.”

“If you didn’t want to do it, then why are you here?” Jess played with some of the pieces of fruit, acting like he was still working as we talked.

“I lost a bet with my brother. He’s an alumni here.”

“Your brother? He’s going to be here?”

Shit, I hadn’t thought of that!

“Yeah, I guess that’s kind of weird.”

“Okay, well, I gotta get back to work,” Jess said. He let his thumb run across one of the few spots of clean skin on my body, winking as he turned away.

New tingles of nervous energy fluttered in my belly. Why hadn’t I realized that Denny would be here, maybe even one of the guys that would be pulling fruit off of me? God, I was going to kill him.

Minutes passed and I relaxed realizing that there wasn’t much I could do besides jump up and run. I couldn’t do that to Denny, I knew this dinner meant a lot to him and to do it right would up his prestige with the members. A roar of male laughter caught my attention and I moved the tiniest bit, trying to see what was going on.

I needn’t have moved. Men swarmed into the room, tuxedoed and shined, they carried crystal glasses full of golden bubbles. I felt the eyes on me as I kept my position, wishing

I could close my eyes and pretend I wasn’t here. There were about twenty men and I could see Denny, his eyes riveted upon me as he walked in.

“Steph,” he whispered as he walked by. “You look amazing.”

“I feel stupid and exposed,” I growled at him. “You are so going to owe me for this one, even though I lost the bet.”

“Yeah, I’ll pay,” Denny said, a twinkle in his brown eyes. He reached over, playing with the flower that covered my sex, moving it ever so slightly. His smile grew even bigger as he heard me gasp and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Watch it buddy, or I’ll tell mom,” I hissed.

He laughed. “I dare you,” he smirked. He bent and before my disbelieving eyes, smelled the flower he was playing with, his head so close to my body I could feel a silky brush as his hair touched me.

Shock had me speechless and he lifted his head and winked before turning to walk away.

“Gentleman, if you’ll take your seats, dinner will be served and then we’ll get to the highlight of the evening.” Chairs were moved, the clink of silverware and china sounding loudly in my ears. Toasts were given even as waiters moved through the room keeping glasses filled, distributing expertly cooked cuisine that smelled amazing.

I felt my stomach contract and the growl and heard a laugh close by.

“I think our centerpiece missed dinner,” a deep voice said.

“Well, we can’t have her passing out on us due to hunger and missing the main event, can we?” another voice chimed in.

“No, where would our manners be?”

I heard the sound of a chair scraping back and then saw a wide black and white covered chest in front of my eyes. Looking up, I could see a large man, his body muscled not fat, holding a fork in front of me.

“Open up, pretty one,” he said, waving a bite of rare, red meat in front of me.

“I-I…” was all I got out before he pushed the food into my mouth.

The taste exploded in my mouth, rare prime rib with a delicate mushroom sauce, and I couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped my lips.

I swallowed and another fork was offered, and then another. I had a group of tuxedoed men standing over me, feeding me tidbits of their own dinners. There was just something slightly decadent about being surrounded by these men, most of them well built, handsome and exuding power like it was aftershave.

Then I felt a hand upon my hip, a finger tracing through the chocolate flowers, a yum of delight as I was tasted for the first time. Another hand reached out, plucking a strawberry from the tray, his hand brushing against my ass cheek.

Someone bent over me, his tongue slipping out and trailing up my leg, licking up the sweet, syrupy liquid. Another mouth was at my throat, nibbling on skin left bare of syrup or chocolate, tasting only my own flavor.

“Having fun?” I heard Denny say and I saw him amongst those gathered around me. His eyes were bright, lustful, sending a thrill of naughtiness through me. I wondered if he would join the men who were nibbling at the strawberries covering my nipples. Would he want to do the things to me I could feel being done already?

But he just winked, turning his back and walking off. I followed him with my eyes, seeing him talk to Pierre before someone blocked my view.

The strawberry covering my right nipple was gone, a tongue slowly lapping at the taut peak. Another tongue was at the small of my back, licking up the chocolate that had pooled there. Men vied for position around the small table holding my tray and for a single instant, I wondered if this was what the missionaries had felt like while waiting for the water to boil in the huge pots in all those jungle flicks.

Someone lifted my foot inches from the tray and I felt a warm mouth close over my toes, sucking and then licking at the sensitive pads. I wanted badly to squirm but too many hands were on me now, too many mouths licking or sucking at my skin, teasing my nerve endings. I was on sensory meltdown, my body starting to writhe in pleasure.

I was pushed back on my back, the flower plucked from between my thighs. Someone shouted Denny’s name and I saw the man holding the flower toss it to my brother, like it was some kind of trophy. I felt juice from the strawberries that had been crushed when they’d put me on my back and felt it mix with the blueberries that were pushed off of me by eager hands.

My thighs were spread, someone lifting a slice of peach and rubbing it over my thick lower lips. He brought the fruit to his mouth, smiling as he bit into it. Warm wetness surrounded both my nipples, tongues sliding over my stomach while fingers played with my thighs and slid into my pussy.

At first, nerves had me stiff, but soon I was a massive bundle of need, my hips jerking every time someone touched my clit. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the group of men around me, but feeling them all the same. Moans and groans filled the air, and for a moment I was surprised to know that they came from me. I’m not a prude, but I’m usually pretty quiet during sex.

I guess you couldn’t call this normal sex though. Mouths moved over me, licking and nibbling, sucking and biting gently at the fruit still on me. Hands plucked and played, one sliding through the wetness between my thighs, a thick finger pushing into my pussy.

One of the men lifted my hand and suddenly it was filled, my fingers wrapped around a thick cock. My eyes flew open and I looked over, seeing the man who had fed me the first bite of food slowly wrapping his hand around mine, then moving it up and down his stiff shaft.

“Is this okay?” he asked and I remembered what my brother had told me. Nothing will happen that I don’t want to.

“Y-yes,” I whispered, my thumb brushing over the spongy soft head of his cock and finding it already wet.

Hands played with my breasts, squeezing and rubbing, picking up handfuls of the now soft fruit and squeezing the mass of juice over my nipples. I heard a wet sound, turning my head from watching the hand job I was giving to see another man, his hands covered with strawberry pulp, rubbing it over his hard cock.

“Lick it off,” he growled, moving closer to my face so that his cock brushed against my lips.

I couldn’t help myself, so many sensations were overloading my system, so many hands and mouths were caressing and kissing, sucking and touching until it felt like I was strung up on a wire, hanging by one hand. I opened my mouth, my tongue coming out, licking at the warm flesh and sweet juice. Lapping from the bottom of his balls to the head of his cock, I got all the sticky fruit from him before opening my mouth and taking him inside.

He grabbed my head, holding me as he thrust inside slowly, going a little deeper each time until I could feel him at the back of my throat. I gagged slightly and he eased off, making quick little jabs inside and imploring me to suck on him.

Suck on him I did, my cheeks hollowing out, my lips stretched around his straining cock.

My hand moved over the other cock, jerking him off even as another man pushed my legs further apart, his head coming between and his tongue stroking over my clit.

I squealed. I couldn’t help it. I felt that one tiny lick all the way down to my toes which were now curled. A low moan started in my throat as he continued, driving me crazy with torturously slow licks, sometimes purposefully missing my clit and making me wiggle in disappointment. I wanted to reach down and yank his head further into me, but my other hand was taken and another cock was there.

The man in my mouth moved up his pace, his breath growing heavy, his body jerking even as his cock swelled. Suddenly, I felt the first pulse of salty hot sperm hit my throat and I coughed, gagging even as I swallowed the bitter brew. He filled my mouth again and again until finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, he pulled away.

He patted my head and before I could say anything, another man took his place, another cock pressing against my lips. My jaw began to ache and my head started to spin, but I let him use me even as the cocks in my hands started to spray their loads on top of me.

It set off some kind of signal and I glanced around, finding myself surrounded by all these men, cocks in hand, jerking off over my naked juice and chocolate covered body. Even the man in my mouth pulled his cock free. I could hear him using my saliva to smooth his strokes. It was a wet sound and one that I would never forget.

My eyes were wide, my hands falling to my sides, covered in semen from the last two guys who had come on me. I looked around the circle and then, when one of the men shifted, I saw Jess standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His eyes met mine and he grinned, winking at me.

The first spurt of semen landed across my breasts, the hot fluid running down the soft mounds to pool in the valley of my cleavage. The second landed on my thighs, which were still spread, the creamy white stuff trailing over my barely covered mound. I closed my eyes as the next shot landed across my face. Then they were coming, all of them, shooting their cream onto my naked body.

I was covered with jism. It was hot and gooey, a little slimy against my body. It mixed with the juice from the fruit and the syrup and the melted chocolate, pooling in my navel, dripping off my thighs, matting in my hair. I felt the last shot land across my mouth to the accompaniment of some hoarse male laughter and then felt them move away from the tray.

I couldn’t open my eyes. I could only lay there in the quickly cooling pool of semen, listening as the men talked, hearing lighters click and smelling the scent of cigar smoke. I couldn’t stand up, I couldn’t move off the tray because the come had made the tray ultra slippery. I was about to open my mouth, to ask for help, when he spoke above my head.

“It’s okay, Stephanie. You did great.”

“Jess?” I asked. “Can you get me out of here and off this tray?”

“Yes ma’am, right away.”

I felt the cart begin to move and heard the swinging doors into the kitchen.

“Amazing,” Chef Pierre said. “Simply amazing.” He clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“Can you sit up?”

I managed, feeling the gooey stuff dripping off of me. Something was placed in my hands, a wet cloth, and I used it to wipe away the worst of it out of my eyes and off my face. “I can’t go home like this.”

“No one expects you to, Stephanie,” Jess said. He held a small wire basket and I could see my clothes inside. He held out his hand to me and I took it, wanting to apologize for the mess I made of it. “I’m going to take you to where you can get a shower.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing still for a moment and letting my knees lose their shakiness. I’d been more affected by what had happened out there than I thought. My body tingled, my pussy felt empty and achy and my nipples throbbed.

I followed Jess down a tiled hallway, hearing the sound of someone mopping behind me as they cleaned up the mess falling off of me. A doorway appeared on the left side of the hall and Jess opened it, clicking on the light switch.

The bathroom was gorgeous, surprising me. I hadn’t thought to find something spacious and opulent and so well fitted for a woman in a man’s fraternity. The colors were soft, opal and pink with touches of yellow and pale green, the tiles were ceramic, on the floor as well as surrounding the tub and the huge shower. A long counter ran the length of the room with three marble bowls, the opal colored marble shot through with the same colors as the room.

I was afraid to step inside, but Jess waved me in. “You’ll find everything you need in here, Stephanie.”

No I wouldn’t. I knew what I needed and it was marble and ceramic tiles. I needed a man.

“Would you stay?”

“You want me to stay?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

“Oh,” I said, as a thought popped into my head. “You have a girlfriend.”

“No,” he said slowly, smiling. “No girlfriend. Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind if you entertain a strange man?”

“No boyfriend,” I said simply.

Jess’s smile turned into a wide grin and he pushed me further into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He went to the shower, turning on the four heads and checking the temperature of the water. Then he ushered me in with a courtly bow that made me giggle.

I walked into the spray, sighing in relief as the mix on my body rinsed off. Pushing my head back, I picked out a couple of daisies that had stuck in my hair as a result of the matted semen. Then I let the water run through it, enjoying the heat.

“Here,” Jess said, startling me. I hadn’t heard him come into the shower, too intent upon rinsing away the gunk. He lifted the heavy mass of my hair and ran his fingers through it, getting what he could out before lifting a bottle from a small inlaid shelf. Pouring peach scented liquid into his hands, he started to wash my hair.

I’ve had men wash my hair before but for some reason, every sensuous stroke of his fingers, every gentle massage had me moaning with pleasure. I tipped my head back, allowing him every freedom he wanted to take, my hands coming back to rest upon his thighs, sliding up and finding the hard proof of his desire.

His gasp was like manna from the heavens and I stroked his steely shaft with trembling fingers. Even my knees were shaking from the force of the sensations I was feeling. The past two hours had been like an aphrodisiac, turning me into a mass of need. How could I have known that being the center of attention in a room full of twenty lusty men would be such a turn on?

Jess rinsed my hair, carefully getting out every last bit of soap, then he reached for another bottle and poured golden liquid into his hands. Rubbing them together he began to wash the rest of me, starting with my shoulders.

His thumbs dug into my muscles, stiffened from lying in one position for so long. I moaned again, my head falling forward. “God, I’ll give you a week to stop that,” I almost whimpered.

“I think we’ll run out of hot water before then,” Jess said, slowly thrusting his cock against my hand. I heard the catch in his voice when I squeezed delicately feeling him throbbing and as anxious as I was for what was coming, and I do mean coming.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, sending another shiver through my system until I thought I’d short circuit and then melt into a puddle to be swept down the drain. “I can understand why those men couldn’t leave you alone tonight. I wanted to join them, but this,” he sighed, his warm breath caressing my ear, “is so much better.”

I turned under his hands, facing him. His hands went to my breasts, round and firm, sitting high on my chest. My nipples were rosy and taut, begging for his fingers. He didn’t disappoint me, twisting the hard tips until I let out a wild cry. “I need you,” I whimpered, lifting my leg to wrap around him. “Now!”

Jess laughed, whether at the demand in my voice or my attempts to climb his well muscled form, I didn’t know. All I did know was that he lifted me, his palms cupping the curves of my ass and then spun, slamming me gently against the wall.

I gasped at the feel of the cold tiles against my back, but they were soon forgotten when he lined his cock up to my yearning pussy and slowly began to push inside.

My moan mixed with his groan as I stretched to fit his cock, feeling him fill me slowly, lowering me down until I could take no more. “Oh God,” I whimpered, my face buried in his throat. “That’s so good.”

“Yeah,” he growled, nipping at my shoulder and then my ear before using his palms to raise and lower me over him. He fucked me with vigor, finally pressing me against the wall, using his body to hold me up, his hips undulating in a wonderful rhythm, rubbing against my clit with each new thrust.

I dug my nails into his shoulders, mindless now that he held me there, pinioned against the wall, helpless to his attack. He tortured me, taking me so close, until I was whimpering and begging and then stopping, making me wait no matter how I begged and bitched.

“You’re killing me,” I cried, my teeth nipping at his throat. “Fuck me, damn you!”

Jess’s laugh was like tickling fingers down my spine, making me shiver. I was so close to coming, so close to a huge orgasm. I kicked my feet, my heels beating into his back even as I tried to force him to move over me.

“You want to come?” he asked, lifting his head to look down at me.

“No, what gave you that idea? Yes. Goddamn it.”

I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Even now, I can’t believe the punishment, the torturous plunging and banging into me, the abuse he put me through. His cock slammed into me, smashing into my clit with each thrust. I could hear his breathing above the sound of rushing water in my head, hear the filthy words he said to me, that only made me wilder.

It was a torturous climb, my heart beat so hard I thought it would beat through my chest, my lungs felt as if they’d never be filled again, my thighs ached and twitched, my pussy burned so wonderfully. I was going to come, I could feel the coil of tension in my belly growing and twining and twisting.

Then I was there. Sharp talons of ecstasy exploded in me, shooting out in waves of heat that prickled over my skin like a thousand tiny pins. My pussy clenched on his cock, the muscles fluttering and grasping around that wonderful piece of flesh. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I know I screamed, though it was muffled by his shoulder.

He gave three more abusing thrusts and then roared his own satisfaction, pouring his hot seed into my sex, sending me soaring into one more climax until I was nothing more than limp in his arms.

Jess held me, even when my legs fell from his waist, he did nothing more than hold me against him, his hands smoothing over my arms and sides as we both tried to recover.

Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes bright, his cheeks flush. “How did you get here?”

It wasn’t what I’d expected to be the first question out of his mouth. “Denny, my brother, brought me.”

“Finish your shower,” he whispered, dipping his head to find my lips in a slow, soft kiss that spoke more of affection than of sex. “I’ll go find him.”

Disappointment must have been plain in my eyes because he smiled. “I thought you’d want him to know you were riding home with me.”

I know my smile must have been radiant. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “That would probably be best.”

That was five years ago. Jess and I got married, but that’s another story.

BadFairGoodInterestingSuper Total 0 votes

Leave a Reply* Marked items are required