Cold Hard Cash: A Story of Erotica by Bebe Wilde Read Free Book Online

coming and, as much I wanted to continue to do this, I couldn’t help myself. It was too much. I came, the orgasm releasing millions upon millions of good tiny feelings inside of me. It was like warm sunshine just burst inside of me. I shook with it and held onto his hand, which was still between my legs. While I was still flushed with orgasm, he came, pumping into me and finding his release.
    Once I was done, he was coming and pumped into me until he finished.
    We didn’t move for a while, only laid there and rubbed up against each other. I turned around and held him, kissing him softly and he held me tight, pulling me as close to him as he could get me.
    I smiled and said, “Now, that’s the best way to wake a girl up in the morning.”
    “I’ll say,” he said. “You hungry?”
    “I could eat,” I said but didn’t want him to go.
    “Then I’ll fix us something,” he said and gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the bed. He adjusted his pajama bottoms then pointed to the dresser. “I’ve got you something to wear,” he said. “They’re big but they’ll get you back to the hotel.”
    I smiled as he left the room and glanced at the clothes—a super old but super comfy looking t-shirt and a pair of jean cutoffs. My panties and bra, which were now clean and fresh smelling, were folded neatly on top. I slipped them on, then the big t-shirt and then the shorts which almost fell off of me. I hiked them up and went out into the open living area. It was nice. The kitchen was at the back and the cabinets were dark wood and the appliances stainless steel. The floor looked really old, but I could tell it was refurbished oak from an old house or barn somewhere and very, very expensive. The couch was a vintage brown leather Chesterfield and the coffee table was an old looking wood box thing piled high with vintage coffee table books.
    He didn’t have a dining table. He had a peninsula built out and four cool looking wood stools under them for seating. The counter was a slab of concrete and so trendy and beautiful I almost asked him to marry me.
    “I love your condo,” I said. “When can I move in?”
    He chuckled and said, “Today,” with slight sarcasm and grinned at me.
    “No, seriously, this is the coolest place ever.”
    “Thanks,” he said and flipped an omelet onto a plate. “But I can’t take credit for it. An old girlfriend helped me. She’s an interior decorator. As for everything else, the place was pretty much already done when I moved in.”
    “And old girlfriend?”
    He nodded. “Yeah. We’re still friends. Are you friends with your ex?”
    “Are you crazy?” I asked.
    He chuckled and said, “Maybe a little,” then slid a steaming plate of food in front of me.
    It was an omelet. A steak and cheese and mushroom omelet. I looked at him. “This is my favorite kind.”
    “Mine, too,” he said.
    “Seriously?”
    “Yup,” he said.
    “Look at us,” I said. “We have something in common besides sex.”
    He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “But that’s not a bad thing to have in common, is it?”
    “Not when it’s that good, baby,” I told him then checked myself. Baby? I just called him baby! I never said stuff like this! And I certainly never flirted like this either. But it was him; he was bringing all this out in me. Maybe it there the whole time and I just had to meet the right man to bring it out. I froze. The right man? Had I lost my mind? Yes, I had. I had to keep in mind that this was just a little sex. And he was a stripper. He’d probably done this dozens of times. It was probably a routine with him by now. I knew the drill without even ever having gone through it: He’d fucked me. Now he was feeding me. Next he’d tell me it was okay to keep the clothes. And, lastly, he’d send me on my way. He wasn’t about to get involved with the likes of me, a person who didn’t even live in the same city as he did.
    But if only… No. I stopped myself.
    “How’s the