Page 11 of Calla's Boys

Calla wheedles quietly as her mouth hangs slightly open. I lean down and take one of her nipples between my teeth, grinding my teeth as gently around it as I can, while I piston my hips faster.

“Fuck,” I growl through grit teeth, finally letting go of her nipple as I feel myself getting closer and closer to coming.

“More,” she whispers as she licks her lips and closes her eyes.

That’s when I can’t hold on to it anymore. Calla Hunt with her big, beautiful lips, her soft, massive tits, and tight, warm pussy wants me to give her more.

I grunt as I come, shooting a hot stream of my load inside of her, then close my eyes as I do my best to steady my breathing. Calla’s pussy walls convulse around my cock, milking me for every last drop I can give her. She lets out a quiet, contented sigh, then gently puts her hands on my chest and shoves me away.

As I slide my sticky cock out of her hole, I let her sit up before I glance down at her pretty little pussy.

“Show it to me,” I whisper.

Calla leans her head back and smiles as she does as she’s told, pushing my come out, and I watch it slowly drip down her thigh.

I lick the tip of my forefinger, then trace the stream back up her thigh, shoving it back into her.

“Mm,” Calla moans as she revels in the feeling of being used.

“Go to sleep, Ms. Hunt,” I tell her with a smirk as I climb off the bed and look for my boxers. “We’re supposed to wake up fresh tomorrow.”

“You’re no fun,” she grumbles under her breath as she sighs, then moves toward the side of the bed.

Arching an eyebrow, I drag my boxers back on, then lean across the bed before she has a chance to stand up, and fist her hair, pulling her back toward me.

“Don’t you dare take a shower. I want to smell myself on you in the morning.”

Chapter Eight

Jesse

“What the hell smells like day-old cum in here?” I ask, wrinkling my nose as we sit down to breakfast the next morning.

Calla suggested we try one of the resort restaurants, and I was quick to agree. It’s close, it can be charged to the room, and I don’t feel like dealing with sunlight until I’ve had a chance to fully wake up yet.

Doc smirks as he whips out his cloth napkin with a flourish, then smooths it on his lap, and I blow out an impatient breath.

Nothing against him, because he’s definitely one of my best friends, but the smug, bullshit-eating grin on his face gives him away instantly.

“Back of the line,” I state curtly.

The look on his face drops instantly as he slumps down in his chair a little, and Calla gives us both a curious look.

His very favorite thing is to tell us when we’ve lost our “spot” with Calla, so I take great pleasure right now in returning the favor.

“Fuck off, Jesse,” he grumbles as he swats his napkin. I chuckle as I exchange a triumphant look with Clyde, who, for a moment, is actually relishing that I managed to get a one-up on the prick.

Not that Doc is too bad or anything—it’s just his gloating can get to be too much sometimes.

“What line?” Calla asks curiously as she unfurls her napkin and places it on her lap.

“What line?” we all echo her in unison. She shakes her head ruefully as we burst into laughter—even Doc.

“Behave, you three,” she remarks with a chuckle as she rests an elbow on the table.

I inhale a contented breath as I glance around the restaurant. It’s honestly the fanciest place I’ve ever been to, and I’m glad that I get to share this experience with her. Having other guys attached to what I would consider a date isn’t the best way to make an impression, but it’s not the worst either.

“So, what looks good?” Calla asks after a tense moment of silence shared by everyone at the table.

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