Page 68 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

But I didn’t want to think of that now. I carefully lifted her legs from my lap and went to my room to get a spare pillow and blanket. When I returned, I gently moved her into a more comfortable position and then covered her with the blanket.

She shifted slightly, nuzzling her head into the pillow, and then settled again. I stood back, folding my arms across my chest. “You’re one hell of a woman, Henrietta Jones.”

Smiling to myself, I walked back to the bedroom and began taking off the rest of my suit from the wedding. As I slid down my pants, my phone fell out of my side pocket, and I picked it up, seeing a text from the group chat I had going with her brothers.

Johmarcus: I’ll be there at seven. See you then.

Justus: Me too. Thanks for this.

Bertrand: I’ll be there at half past eight with the lumber delivery.

I texted them back.

Tyler: See y’all soon.

Then I set my phone on the dresser, threw the clothes in the hamper, and walked back to the shower. These apartments weren’t fancy, but one thing I could say, the water pressure was top-notch.

I stepped under the heavy stream, letting the pressure wash away all the tension from the day. I’d wanted to take things to the next step with Henrietta, make her scream my name until she clenched around me, but once I saw how tired she was, I couldn’t ask that of her.

That memo hadn’t reached my dick yet, though. I was so fucking hard for her. I ran my hand down my length, wishing it was her hand instead.

Fuck. I didn’t want to masturbate with her in the next room, but this situation wasn’t going away any time soon... especially with how good she looked tonight, how fucking sexy she was pressed against the coat closet wall.

I gripped my cock, holding it tight in my hand and closing my eyes. Her breasts would bounce as she worked me faster and harder. Her lips would part, ready for me to enter her mouth so she could taste me on her tongue.

Fuck, she was so hot. And those tits. I’d knead them, slather them with oil and thrust my cock in her cleavage. Harder and faster, her throat humming with pleasure as I tit-fucked her.

Just as I got close to coming, she’d take me in her mouth, hold my thighs with her hands so I had no choice but to nut down her warm throat. And she’d look up at me as she swallowed every. Last. drop.

My cock throbbed one last time before I came all over the shower floor. The next time, it would be with her.

40

Henrietta

Confession: There’s not a lot that Grandma’s hugs can’t fix.

When I woke up,Tyler’s apartment was dark except for a bright slit of light shining through the blackout shades in his living room. And then it hit me: I’d fallen asleep on his couch, in my bridesmaid dress, still a virgin.

I sat up and let out a groan. Gah, I was so pathetic. I couldn’t even stay awake to bone my hot boyfriend.

I cringed internally at my use of the word bone. That was such a virgin word to use. Which made sense because… Flower? Still there.

I stood up, wondering where he was and what time it was. A paper crunched between my leg and the coffee table. I picked it up, then went to the shades, drawing them back and squinting at the bright reflection of sun on notebook paper.

Sorry I had a work thing to get to. The coffee pot is on, and there’s a to-go cup you can use. Creamer is in the fridge, and sugar’s in the cabinet—help yourself to anything. I had your friend Birdie get an extra outfit for you too, and it’s sitting on the counter.

I glanced toward the counter, seeing a reusable grocery bag there.

Take a shower, make yourself at home, maybe visit your grandma. I’d love to take you to dinner tonight.

- Tyler

Still stunned at his thoughtfulness, and Birdie’s involvement, I went through the tote bag. Everything was there, from toiletries to a fresh pair oflacyunderwear, a cotton dress, socks, and slip-on sneakers.

I opened up my clutch, which was on the coffee table, and pulled out my phone, seeing a few new texts in the group chat.

Birdie: HENRIETTA! PLEASE TELL ME IT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!

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