“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says.
“I know very well what I’m asking. Take me hard and fast, like you have before.”
“Callie, I want—”
“We’ll get there,” I say. “Right now, I want you as you are. As you want me.”
“Okay,” he says, “but we’re going to be naked this time.”
I smile. “Then take off your clothes, sailor.” I lift my dress over my head and toss it on the chair next to the couch.
My thong is somewhere over by the door in shreds, so I’m naked, my nipples jutting out like pencil erasers.
Donny’s eyes go wide.
Nice.
Very nice.
“I’ve shown you mine,” I say. “Now you show me yours.”
He yanks off his jacket quickly and tosses it on top of my dress. Then his shirt. He rips it in two, and buttons go flying.
I squeal and then let out a giggle.
But not for long.
My gaze lands on his incredible chest and abs. Hairless and smooth, rippled and hard.
Oh. My. God.
“Like what you see?” he teases.
“Do you?” I taunt back.
Where is this coming from? I’m not a natural flirt, and though I know my body is nice, it’s not stacked like my sisters’.
Donny Steel is bringing out the siren in me.
And you know what?
It’s fun.
“I love what I see, Callie. You’re fucking beautiful. Perfect, even.”
“Ditto on that.” I eye his crotch. “Keep going.”
He kicks off his shoes—Donny is a Steel who actually doesn’t wear cowboy boots—and unbuckles his belt. Down go his pants and boxer briefs…
And out springs his huge cock.
I can’t help myself. I gape at it. Already I know it’s big. It’s been inside me twice. But actually seeing it. Ogling it… In the flesh…
It’s magnificent.
Slightly darker than the rest of him, it’s straight with a perfectly formed head. Two veins swirl over the top, intertwining like the marbling in a fine cut of beef.
He’s a fine cut of beef all right.
Wow.
Fucking wow.
His pants and underwear join the rest of the clothes on the chair.
Then I giggle.
His eyes widen.
“The socks, Don.”
His chiseled cheeks pink a bit as he looks down at his black socks. “What? This look doesn’t turn you on?”
I giggle again. Because I’m so turned on. He can screw me wearing the socks, for all I care. I won’t balk at it.
He peels the socks off slowly, as if he’s doing a strip tease.
I giggle again.
Then I gape again. Even his feet are gorgeous. My God, he’s perfect.
His thighs are hard and thick, his calves meaty and muscled. “How do you stay in such great shape? With a desk job and all.”
He sits next to me on the couch and lowers his head to my ear. His hot breath makes me shiver.
“I get a lot of exercise,” he whispers.
“Doing what?”
“This.”
He flattens me on the couch and shoves his dick into me.
I cry out from the invasion, from the sheer pleasure.
He’s doing what I told him to do. He’s fucking me, and I’m enthralled.
I close my eyes—
“No,” he commands. “Look at me.”
I open my eyes and meet his hazel gaze. His focus is intent as he thrusts, thrusts, thrusts, sweat emerging on his hairline.
“You feel so fucking good,” he says, panting.
I open my mouth to reply, but only a groan emerges—a groan that seems to come from the very pit of my soul and moves outward, flowing toward him.
“I swear I could live inside you.” He thrusts. Thrusts. Thrusts. “That’s how good you feel around me. So tight but so silky. Perfect fit.”
Thrust.
Thrust again.
Though I’m tempted to close my eyes again and fall into a dreamland—for this must be a dream—I don’t let my gaze waver from his. I lock on to him, as if our eyes are held together by an invisible beam or force.
He’ll go longer this time.
After all, he just came less than a half hour ago—
“Aauugghh!” He thrusts deeply, holding himself there.
I feel him.
I feel him come.
Each spurt as he fills me.
He seems to reach my heart.
Finally, he collapses, his chest touching mine, his sweat mingling with mine. “My God.”
I say nothing.
“What is it about you?”
Again, I say nothing.
“I promise,” he says. “This night is far from over. You’ll get what you deserve.”
An ominous promise.
And one I intend to hold him to.