Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
5
Devlin
She’s more than a few pounds past my usual. I’d put her at a size fourteen-sixteen maybe. I’ve never fucked anything above a six in my life and never plan to.
Her tits aren’t bad, I like that cleavage shit she always seem to have going on, and she does have one of those coke bottle shapes with an ass that you can see around a corner. But none of that is what I’m attracted to.
It’s for that reason that we got off on the wrong foot. She stood there in my doorway smiling and dewy fresh with some kind of baked good in her hands and I wanted her gone.
I didn’t like the effect she had on my body, didn’t want to like what I was seeing and so I reacted poorly. It could’ve been worst, I could’ve slammed the door in her face. But instead I made up some bullshit excuse about being late for a date and got her the hell out of there.
To make shit worst, I’d eaten a slice of that pie she brought over the next day without thinking and damn if that shit wasn’t the best fucking thing I’d ever tasted in my life.
After that we ran into each other a handful of times and each time was more of the same. I’d tell myself that this time I wouldn’t react, but my dick had a mind of its own.
He’d perk right the fuck up at the sight or sound of her, and my asshole meter would go off the charts. I had no doubt she thought I was a raging fuckwad at this point, but it was too late to turn back now.
I have the niggling fear that if I back down I’d do something stupid, like take her to my bed or some fuck. Fuck if I’ma go there with her. But why can’t I get those damn lips and eyes and tits and fuck all the fuck out of my head?
To add insult to injury I was still hitting the dating scene, but lately I find myself slacking off. I’d gone without fucking for way longer than I ever have since perfecting the art.
Of course it had nothing to do with her, I was just busy with other things. I can’t tell you what the fuck those things are, but it’s the excuse I’ve been giving myself each time the shit comes up. The last chick I took out was about two weeks ago and the evening had ended before it begun.
I’d picked her up all gung-ho and rearing to go. I’d caught a glimpse of this one earlier that day picking up the mail and my dick needed release. Five seconds in that poor girl’s presence and I knew the shit wasn’t gonna work.
Everything about her was wrong. Her lips were too red, not soft and pink. Her makeup too garish, I was looking for creamy all natural. And her perfume was too much.
Since the fuck when I ask you? I like my women well tarted up, the more lipstick and eye gunk the better. I’ve always been attracted to the well groomed, well manicured type. So why am I looking at every woman in my stable and finding them lacking?
The whole evening all I kept thinking about was her ass in those sweats when she walked back to her door after fetching the mail. And then she had the nerve, as if knowing that I was watching from the safety of my own home, to bend down to pick up the newspaper that had been thrown onto her walkway. I can still feel my response in my gut.
I stood at the kitchen window now, coffee cup in hand and looked out at the falling snow. I wasn’t really seeing shit, my mind was still stuck on the little peep show she’d given me earlier.
I’d love to think she was doing that shit on purpose, but something tells me her ass is green as a stump for all that she has a damn mouth on her. I’m a pretty good judge of character and from what I’ve seen so far, she’s not the type to try to tempt a man with her body. She seems more the type to run and hide or brain you with a rolling pin if cornered.
Except when it comes to that damn tree. Our only sparring matches has been because of it. Of course I’m sure that there’s an underlying reason that has shit all to do with the tree, especially on my part, but I’m fucked if I’m gonna admit to that shit.
I tossed half my coffee down the drain and stomped my ass to the shower to wash away the want. With dick in hand and soap in the other I lathered up and gave my meat the stink eye.