Hooked 2 (Hooked #2)(15)

He flung my panties across the room before beginning to unbutton my dress, revealing my supple breasts and tight stomach. I sat before him, gleaming and naked on the table, my breasts bouncing a bit with each heaving breath. “Baby. Fuck me,” I said.

But he wasn’t ready, and I was nearly gasping for breath. He knelt before me and placed his lips between my legs, beginning to play with my clit, my * with his tongue. He knew what he was doing, and I began to feel so hot, so steamy on my chest, on my thighs as he f*cked me with his tongue.

“Oh, god,” I heaved. I felt like I was being too loud, but I didn’t care. I wanted to scream my lust into the night.

Finally, he made me come, his tongue strapped between my legs in my hot, steaming *. I grabbed his head and brought him up to my lips, and we kissed deeply. He grabbed my breasts and twisted at the nipples. I unbuckled his belt once more, tossing his pants to the ground. He removed his boxers, his shirt, and stood before me; a tall, naked, stunning man. He pushed my head back and pulsed his enormous dick inside of me. I could feel it deep in my body, and I screamed into the night. He grabbed at my breasts as he pushed himself into me; pumping over and over again. I wrapped my legs around his body, forcing him closer, deeper inside of me. His eyes were dipping back inside his head; his pleasure was enormous.

After a few moments, I pushed him back and lifted myself up, bringing him with me toward the living room. I knelt over a chair looking out over the churning city before me as he pushed inside my * from behind. He reached around and began playing with my *, bringing me pleasure from both areas. He sighed over me, and I could feel the heat of his body as he pushed into me. “God,” I murmured, feeling him so heavy. I looked out over the great city, imagining who else was f*cking, who else had such great passion—such brilliant manners in the bedroom.

After several more minutes, Drew gave out a large, long cry, jerking violently with the pleasure. He pulled back, removing his dick from my *, and I spun toward him, kissing him passionately. I wasn’t done. I couldn’t be done. I led him into the shower and turned on the heat. I stepped in as he eyed me in the water, playing with my hair, with my breasts. He sat on the toilet, breathing heavily, resting, until my body became too much for him.

He stepped into the shower, shocked at the warmth of the water. He pushed me up against the side of the shower and began kissing me, wrapping his tongue around mine. “Yeah, baby. I can’t resist your body. You have a perfect body,” he kept saying, over and over. “Come on. Let’s f*ck again. Please, baby.”

And finally, I wrapped my legs around him and allowed his dick back in my dripping *. I felt him deep inside me once more, and my scream echoed throughout the bathroom as the water rushed over us.

Sometime around three in the morning, after multiple orgasms, multiple positions, Drew and I collapsed in each other’s arms in his bedroom, completely naked. I loved the way his body felt as we drifted off to sleep. I loved the way he grasped my back, my body, as if I belonged to him; as if I were truly his. I felt in those moments like we were a pair, like nothing could come between us.



CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, I woke up early—around eight. Beside me, Drew slept on in dream world. His eyes fluttered. I wanted to kiss him, to wake him with my naked body, to f*ck him once more. But I knew that I needed to get back to real life, that I couldn’t let the events of the previous evening change the day. I couldn’t simply get wrapped up in something when I wasn’t sure of the stakes. Did Drew actually care about me? Or did it just seem that way when we had been at dinner, when we had been in the shower, calling out our attraction for one another.

I crept up from his bed, looking around the room. The light shone in from the window, falling over the aged bedspread. It was clearly something he had had for a long time—perhaps since childhood. I imagined that whatever he had picked out for his “real” apartment—opening next month—was much nicer. I wondered if I would ever see the new apartment, if this sex was just part-time in the wake of him simply living down the hall.

And yet, he hadn’t known he had been living down the hall during all those days of text messages, of missed calls.

I crept out of the bedroom, not before seeing a framed picture of him and who I assumed was Marty, the roommate. I guessed they were about fifteen years old and they had their arms wrapped around each other. They were wearing adorable baseball jerseys. I chuckled to myself, knowing that Mel had known and loved Drew, all these years ago. Mel, herself, would have only been about ten years old when the photo was taken! And she was Drew’s aunt!


The world was strange.

I walked out into the living room, making sure to close his bedroom door behind me. The kitchen and the dining room was a mess. Things had been pushed to the floor for our raucous sexual activity. I chuckled to myself, thinking that I should clean it all up—especially if his roommate came home. But a small part of me wanted Drew to see the mess, as well; to understand the true damage we had gotten up to last night. It was beautiful, really; the passion behind the tossed books, the ripped pages.

I grabbed my clothes as I walked, feeling so very naked in the light of his apartment. My green dress, my underwear. I held them in front of my breasts as I walked toward the door, opened it, and rushed down the hall. I felt an infinite level of adrenaline, of joy as I burst into the place I’d called my home for the past two years, completely naked and completely happy.