How would you like to know what a guy thinks? Especially about sex. Well now’s your chance. This is a flashback post to my book Switch Me Up. A hot, quickie told from the guy’s perspective. It’s based on true events only embellished. Really embellished.
It was really fun writing this story and I hope you enjoy the excerpt.
He left her in the living room. Upstairs he tossed some clothes lying around his bedroom into the hamper, smoothed the bed that didn’t need fixing and turned on the bedside lamp.
He was about to have sex with a complete stranger.
Something so totally out of character for him it made him nervous. He might be apprehensive but he sure wasn’t dead and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass by. His heart started to race and his cock hardened. Sex. Tonight he was going to bang a woman ten years his junior. What did that make him?
A lucky fucking dog, that’s what. He smiled at his wit.
Once he was satisfied with the room Steve went back downstairs.
He totally expected her to be sitting on the couch waiting for him with her drink in hand. He half hoped she’d be naked or something. Instead she sat in the shadows out of the glow of the fire. She had changed clothes. Steve adjusted his balls and stiffening dick in his jeans.
What the fuck did she have on?
She stood and stepped into the light cast by the fire and lamp in the far corner. He nearly swallowed his tongue. Now he knew one thing she had in the suitcase.
“Do you like?” Clare smoothed her palms over her breasts, along her sides and ended her caress by placing her hands on her hips, tipping her shoulder forward with her hip cocked. Her voice, low and sultry, wrapped around him like hot honey.
“Speak, tell me you like it.”
His eyebrows shot up and Clare reached out a hand sheathed in elbow-length leather opera gloves and touched his shoulder.
“I like it,” he replied quickly.
Clare’s husky laugh didn’t seem to fit her tiny form. She circled and paused behind him, running her finger across his back from shoulder to shoulder before settling both palms on his hips. He craned his head to look at her and was distracted when her black, stocking-clad leg hooked around his knee. Steve’s hand dropped to her thigh and held her leg in place.
“I’m glad you like it,” she whispered in his ear.
He kept his gaze glued on her leg, rubbing his palm up her thigh to the scarlet top on the stockings and back down to her knee. It was a spectacular sight. He groaned when she thrust her hips against his ass and tightened her grip.
“Are you hard for me?”
Is she fucking kidding? “Why don’t you check for yourself?”
“Oh what a delicious invitation.”
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