Just One Drink by Charlotte Sloan Read Free Book Online Page A

away, so that I was wet and sweaty and vulnerable, yet oh so willing to be taken by him.
    Then, he peeled off his shirt, and even now the memory of the fabric peeling away from his massive, toned chest sends goosebumps shooting across my skin. His massive pecs thudded with his breath as his arms seized a hold of my waist, taking a firm grip on me as he began to lower his head down between my legs.
    I cringed, eyes wide, pushing up from the bed as his lips kissed those of my pussy for the first time, surprising me, not expecting oral sex on his part this very early on in the relationship. I sure as hell wasn't complaining about the fact, of course, as he dug his capable tongue deep into my cunt like a spade, twisting through me and shifting the earth of my body around, swiping through the floral folds and nibbling on me so perfectly that I thought I might meet an untimely demise before all was said and done.
    His head bobbed rhythmically between my trembling thighs as he ate me, forcing my legs to close, to collapse around his precious skull with a vice-like force, nearly crushing the beautiful man, as at last he hit the sweetest of sweet spots, and sent wave after wave of sweet, splendid orgasm shooting uncontrollably through my body.
    Finally, he pulled his lips out of me, and climbed up from the bed, his hand on his jeans as he extricated himself from them, his erection, at this point, hot and hard and more than ready to be put to good use. I think he had it in his mind that he was going to mount me on top, and push down inside me, but so great was my desire for him that I climbed up on top of him and pinned him down almost the instant his flesh hit the sheets.
    Straddling him cowgirl style, my abdomen gyrated, and my pelvis ground up against him, stretching out my trembling cunt with the force of his cock, slamming my body into him, moaning, my head spinning, as I bounced up and down on top of the beautiful bastard like a damn pogo stick.
    Every muscle in my body rang with exhaustion by the time all was said and done, as I smashed down one final time on top of him and held myself there, allowing myself to be filled up with his essence as he ejaculated inside me, and my body rang with orgasm yet again.
    And now, in real life, as the memory reached its climax, I found myself moaning, head spinning on the verge of bursting away, as the vibrations of the dildo sent me flying over the edge.
    At last, I slid the artificial cock out from inside me, panting and exhausted with desire, and having almost forgotten that I'd been filming this all the entire time.
    I sat there, catching my breath for several seconds, and squeezing my naked body together as though trying to collapse in on myself, suddenly very embarrassed about all of this. But, I knew, I'd already filmed the whole thing, and though I could have easily deleted it, I decided that, somehow, it was far too important to get rid of.
    The sadness of missing him washed over me once again as I looked into the camera eye, breathing, and pretending that it was his own.
    “I love you babe...” I whispered at last, “And I miss you so much... Please come home soon...”
    And with that, I uploaded the video as an e-mail attachment, and sent it flying halfway around the world.
    Once all was said and done, I began to feel an incredible sense of disappointment wash over me. As much as I'd enjoyed making the video for my husband, and as close as it had made me feel to him as it all unfolded, the afterglow of my own self-abuse felt cold and unsatisfying, leaving me wanting so much more than I knew was mine to be had.
    I wanted Danny- not just the long forgotten memories that could still fuel my masturbatory fantasies, but the flesh and blood him. I longed for his embrace, for his so long awaited return to my life, and yet I knew that, in reality, his return to me was about as far off as I could imagine.
    Even the thought of it made me shudder, forced me to hug myself for security as I