The air conditioner clicked on.
The fan ticked and whirred.
I snuggled deeper into the covers, scooting closer to John Brownstone’s warmth. I tried not to think of what time it must be. The alarm, set for 4:30 a.m., hadn’t gone off yet. The bedroom was pitch black, at least that’s what I assumed when I allowed my eyelids to crack open a millimeter.
Too damn early and yet…
Hands reached for me, pulling me in closer, holding me firm. Mmmmm, that felt good. I rubbed my backside against his pelvis. His cock twitched in response.
One hand roamed my bare back, a brand on my cool skin. I shivered with anticipation.
He pulled my knee, draping my leg over his hip. I was open. Exposed. And ready.
Fingers plucked and strummed my clit. I writhed and groaned. Desire burned through my veins. I ground my body against his. I wanted him. But first…
“Oh God! Daddy! Daddy! Please, please, oh fucking God, can I come? Can I come? Canicomecanicomecanicome?”
A momentary stillness surrounded us even as his fingers continued to play my body.
I buried my face in the pillow as I screamed my pleasure. Before the tremors subsided, he sunk his cock deep into my body. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, holding me in place. I whimpered in response.
The only sound now was the quiver in my breath and the slapping of two bodies slamming into each other.
His grip tightened. My cunt tightened around his shaft. He moved faster as his hold change. Fingers snaked up across my neck and over the back of my head. In one sure movement, he pulled my head back, my neck and back painfully arched as his thrusting intensified.
“Take. My. Commmmmmmme!” I was ensnared in his grip and his spent lust, trapped like trembling but very willing prey. I would take everything he gave me.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! We call moments like those “Thursday morning” around here. Well, sometimes. Ha! Okay, y’all, go forth and enjoy this, the best of all days. And make sure to check out other smutty stories from other writers.