Objection

Oh, please, yes!

When I’m laid out and on full display before him, Mike steps back and quickly sheds his clothes. I watch him… holding my breath as he reveals himself to me. His chest, his abs. All rock hard and chiseled muscle that clearly shows he works out—a lot. I follow the dark brown trail of hair that starts right below his belly button and watch as he takes his pants off, revealing a massive erection that looks to be blessed from the Heavens above.

God, I hope that’s going to fit, or I’m going to be walking funny for some time to come.

But it would be so worth it, I bet.

My eyes widen as Mike takes himself in his hand and starts to stroke. He grows unfathomably larger before my eyes, and I swallow hard.

I can’t help myself when I giggle and voice my inner thoughts. “I hope that will fit.”

A blinding smile peels across his face, and he laughs. “You’re funny. But no worries… I’m going to have you so wet, I’ll slide right home. Trust me.”

And I do for some reason. Because he is standing before me, radiating sexual charm and a confidence that is unmatched. Besides… he’s Number 134. He’s been around the block a time or two.

I guarantee he knows what he’s doing, and that’s good enough by me.





My bedroom door flies open and Macy comes barreling in, launching herself on top of me.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me! I want details. I was too tired and couldn’t stay awake for you to tell me last night when you got home.”

Snickering, I think to myself, That’s because I didn’t come home last night.

I had gotten in around 5:30 AM and, as I glance over at the clock, I see it’s only a little after eight. Mike and I had stayed up all night and into the wee hours of the morning. I don’t even remember the amount of times we had sex… or in between having sex, fooled around. It was a cornucopia of kisses, licks, touches, thrusts, and oh, shit… just thinking about it now makes my girlie parts start to wake up on overdrive.

I snuggle back down into my blankets as a smile plays across my face, thinking about last night.

Mike had indeed given me two orgasms to start out with. He had stripped my bra and panties off, leaving the Louboutins on because he said they were “sexy as fuck”. Pulling my legs apart and crawling in between, he’d proceeded to show me that, with his mouth alone, I could come twice in under five minutes.

Taking the lead as he promised, he chose missionary to start out, granting me another quick orgasm as his hand worked me and his hips pumped hard. He then flipped me over on my hands and knees and brought me to the promised land once again. Only then, did he finally come for the first time.

He didn’t need long to recover and, in between, we shared a bottle of water and talked about mundane stuff, neither one of us willing to reveal what we did for a living. We talked about movies and the arts, and then, all of a sudden, Mike picked me up off the bed and carried me out onto the balcony. It was dark and we were sheltered, but New York buzzed below us. He took me from behind again while I gazed out over Central Park and tried not to scream too loudly when nirvana struck me.

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