Gretchen runs her tongue over the shaft, nibbles at the sweet spot just beneath the head and sucks the length down her throat. She’s also been considerate enough to take her clothes off and kneels between my legs in a black lace bra and matching thong.
I don’t even have the words to gasp out that she’s my supreme fuck fantasy. I can’t do anything but groan and sink my fingers into her hair as she destroys me with history’s most epic blow job.
Every time I try to hold back in order to make this last as long as possible I’m wrecked by the sight of her sweet lips surrounding my cock.
And then finally I can’t hold back anymore.
I wonder if I should share a warning that I’m about to defile her mouth but something tells me this wouldn’t make her back off. Before I can think again I’m unleashing a tidal wave in hot spurts.
Which she swallows.
Of course she does.
Now that Gretchen has conquered me, she straddles my chest with a smirk while I try to calm the fuck down.
“Where the hell did you come from?” I pant out, totally drained.
“I’m your neighbor, remember?” She takes her bra off. “I always have been.”
Greedily, I get my hands on her tits. They’re perfect, like the rest of her.
“What do you like, baby? Tell me.”
She tosses her hair over one shoulder, reaches down and shows how easily she can shove her panties aside. “I seem to recall an invitation to sit on your face.”
And I laugh because she’s outrageously sexy and I don’t know how I got so lucky but I’m not questioning my good fortune.
Gretchen yelps with surprise when I grab her hips and slide her up until her pussy lands on my tongue. She lets me have her this way, rocking her hips back and forth, my mouth doing the work as she quivers, whimpering when she comes with my tongue inside her.
I’ve just figured out what I want to do every single fucking night and I’ll never get tired of this.
Gretchen Aaronson is the answer to a question I didn’t realize I’ve been asking.
“You’re incredible, Trent,” she murmurs after she’s spent and cuddled against my chest.
I tip her face up so I can kiss her and we each get an intimate taste of our own lust. I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I do to her right now.
When my cock perks up enough to make demands again, I pick her up and carry to her to the adjoining bathroom. We fuck in the shower and then return to bed where she sleeps in my arms. I stroke her naked skin in the dark and realize that despite all my financial successes, happiness is a feeling that has been completely missing from my life.
Until now.
Until her.
10
Gretchen
Trent won’t take no for an answer and I’m not good at refusing him, especially when he’s being insanely generous.
Besides, there’s really no other option. I don’t have enough to pay for a car in cash and I’ve already been turned down for loans because ‘unemployed law school dropout’ doesn’t look too promising on a credit application.
Trent pushes the keys for the silver Honda minivan into my palm.
“This isn’t a gift,” I warn him.
He keeps a straight face. “Of course not.”
“I’m going to make payments to you and I want you to draw up the appropriate paperwork.”
He nods. “You’ll have it tomorrow.”
The girls are already crawling all over the inside of the vehicle.
“It’s as big as a house!” Caitlin declares.
Mara wrinkles her nose. “It smells funny in here.”
“That’s a classic new car smell,” Trent says. “People pay many thousands of dollars for it.”
Mara is unconvinced. “It smells like when I left my Barbie out in the sun all day and its head melted.”
“There’s a TV screen!” Caitlin shouts.
I bump Trent with my elbow. “I see you added all the bells and whistles.”
He winks down at me. “Only the best. You can haul the girls and half their preschool class anywhere.”
Though we try not to openly show affection in front of the girls, I can’t stop myself from jumping into his arms right now. “Thank you.” I move to kiss his cheek but he deliberately turns his face to catch my mouth instead.
And my senses light up, as always.
It turns into a real kiss that lasts for longer than it should when we’re standing in the driveway with the twins only a few feet away.
Things have become quiet and when we finally separate, we find Mara and Caitlin staring at us.
I drop my arms in a hurry and we take a step away from each other.
Caitlin is frowning. “Aunt Gretch?”
“What, sweetie?”
“Can I be the flower girl?”
I don’t know what she’s talking about. “For what?”
She rolls impatient four-year-old eyes at me. “You have to have a flower girl when you marry Trentcassini.”
“Um.” My cheeks are suddenly afire.
“Me too!” Mara shouts. “I want to be the flower girl too.”
Trent finds nothing awkward about this. He simply laughs. “Who wants to go for a ride in the new minivan?”
“Me!”
“And me!”
I squeeze his arm. “Also me.”
“Good, you’re driving,” he says.
Once we get the girls’ booster seats in place, we take a minivan tour of Lake Stuart. It’s a pretty day, not quite warm enough to be without a sweater but pleasant with the promise of spring on the horizon. The lake itself glitters and I now appreciate its beauty in a way that didn’t occur to me when I was a child and simply took it for granted as an everyday landmark. Our hometown is pretty and will become even prettier in the spring when the tree leaves fill in and Rosebriar Hill transitions to a picture book shade of green.
Perhaps Caitlin is looking in the same direction I’m looking because she asks, “Can we go to Rosebriar?”
I shouldn’t be surprised that they know what Rosebriar is. Jules was bound to have mentioned our family’s old resort to them. Besides, there are still photo reminders and other souvenirs all over the house. Rosebriar is their history too, just like it was mine and Jules’s and Danny’s.
“Do you think we can get up there?” I ask Trent.
He nods. “Road was all clear when I drove up that way last month.”
“Okay.” I glance back at the girls. “But stay close. It’s falling apart and can be dangerous.”
“Mommy said that too when we went,” Mara says.
“Your mom took you up there?”
“Yup. We got a bunch of orange leaves and Mommy said if we put them in a book they’ll last longer so that’s what we did.”
If there were ‘orange leaves’ then then they must have visited in the fall. The pang in my heart is a familiar companion whenever I think of Jules and how she should be here with her girls. But I’ll keep a smile on my face because I don’t want to the twins to be sad whenever they think of their mother.
“Your Mommy was smart. Did you know that flowers can be pressed the same way? We’ll pick some flowers in the spring and give it a try.”