October 12, 2016 by evesummers
Paxton Vance isn’t as cryptic as he thinks. That broody nature and tough-guy exterior aren’t fooling me one bit.
I know everything about him. I listen in on his most personal phone calls. I read his mail before he does. I even know what his mother got him for Christmas last year.
You’re the man of my dreams, Paxton Vance. You just don’t know it yet.
But don’t worry, I’ll remind you. I’m here to give you everything you need, before you know you need it.
So don’t get defensive because I take a challenge seriously. You have to open up to someone, and that someone is me.
Besides, you can’t stay Mr. Mysterious forever. Why play the game if you never want to win?
Her hands are suddenly in my hair. Twisting and pulling like she’s holding on to me. Never gonna let me go.
“Pax,” she moans out. She’s still fucking coming. I feel wave after wave after wave of contractions against my dick as I slow down.
“No,” she says. “Harder! Harder, harder, harder…”
I speed back up. Pounding her now. She is gushing with come. My dick slides in and out of her pussy. I stand back up, grab hold of her hip bones, and watch the curve of my cock enter, and almost exit, her opening. The lips of her pussy wrap around my shaft like a glove. Like we are puzzle pieces fitting together.
And then her fingers are there. Pushing against her clit. Rubbing as she continues to moan. I slap her hand away. “I don’t need help.”
She laughs, eyes closed again. “Something is wrong with me. I’m so fucking horny right now. I just came—twice—and I need more.” Her eyes fly open and she stares at me. “Flip me over.”
Nobody tells me that twice. I step back and flip her whole body over, push her knees up, press her head down onto the comforter and tongue her wet pussy, flicking against her clit.
“I forgot to tell you—”
“Are we talking about this?” I ask, still trying to lick her.
“I’m a squirter.”
“Shit!” She wiggles away from me, kicking out and squirming her way across the bed.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I don’t want to ruin this bed! I’m telling you, I’m a squirter and this will be pretty messy if we keep going.”
I grab her by the ankles and pull her back to me, then reach under, lift her up, and hoist her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she squeals.
“Taking this to the shower.”
I walk across the room, flip the light on in the master bath, take her into the massive shower, and set her down on the marble bench. “Don’t move,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers as I reach around and feel for the steam switch on the wall, flick it on, and then look hungrily at my girl as the mist wafts around us in floating tendrils. “Squirter, huh?”
She bites her lip to stifle a laugh.
“And you know this how?” I should shut the fuck up. I don’t want to know how she knows. But I can’t help it.
She shakes her head and giggles.
“When I masturbate, it just—it gets—overwhelming and then… you know. That happens. And the way you were touching me in there. It felt like…”
“Masturbation?” I say with a cock-eyed smile. “Nice recovery.” I drop to my knees, push her back so she’s resting against the wall, and do it exactly the way I was. Quickly flicking my dick against her clit. She grabs on to the edge of the stone bench this time, her knees pulling up automatically.
“Like this?” I ask, never taking my eyes off her.
And then she’s out of control. Her moans turn into gasps, turn into screams. I cup my hand over her mouth automatically, momentarily startled as she writhes, and kicks, and yes—squirts.
I don’t think anything has ever turned me on so much in my entire life.
Oliver Shrike thinks ahead. He likes to make lists and tick off boxes. He plans, he plots, and he’s got everything under control.
Until one day he sees my videos on his dating site. The private erotic videos I make just for him.
When I’m looking at the camera I can practically see his face. Hear the internal arguments. Feel his desire.
Because I’m that kind of woman.
You should delete my videos, Oliver Shrike. It’s your job to keep that dating site on the up and up.
But you don’t, do you?
You watch them. You get off to them. You crave them.
Every week I make a new one with you in mind. I’ve got you addicted to my body, my moans, my secrets.
I’ve hooked you now, Mr. Match. You’ve been in control for way too long and this is where it ends.
- Mr. Perfect
- Mr. Romantic
- Mr. Corporate
- Mr. Mysterious
- Mr. Match