Page 77 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
I find the chew, but I’m not ready to sit up yet. I like his hands on my hips. I like my butt pressing against his dick. I like his hips moving like that. And I like that I’m nearly positive he moaned. So, if nothing else, I affect Wyatt as much as he does me. And that should be good enough for Plan B. Just as soon as I figure out what Plan B is.
wyatt
How long doesit take to find a fucking piece of candy?
If she keeps moving like this, I’m likely to come in my pants.
“What’s going on?” Blake asks as he slides back into the driver’s seat.
“I’m looking for…got it!” Brie says, sitting up. Her hair hits me in the face, and the scent of fruit and vanilla hits me hard. My brain gets fuzzy, and my dick thinks it’s time to go to work. Because every other time we’ve smelled Brie, that’s pretty much what we’ve done.
I move one leg slightly to get my dick in a different position. Her hand grabs at my forearm, nails digging in. I stop moving. She loosens her grip. I try it again, just because I can, and get the same reaction from her.
“Hang on,” Blake says. The lurch is less violent this time but still there. Thankfully, he’s driving much slower.
Brie leans back and holds the (now) unwrapped chew against my lips. “Here.” Her voice is froggy. She clears her throat and tries again. “Here, chew on this for a bit and try not to think about, uh, anything else.”
Is Brie turned on?
Ha! It’s nice to know it’s not just me.
My stomach rolls again at the next turn. “Slower, please,” I groan, willing my stomach not to come up at me again.
“Sorry.” Blake slows down further.
Brie leans her head back against my shoulder and turns her head so that she’s whispering in my ear. “Did I tell you what my next podcast is about?”
What?
No, she didn’t fucking tell me. She knows that. But then she keeps talking. Her fingernails are drawing little circles and lazy lines up and down my forearm. It tickles, but it’s soothing too.
I chew on the candy and listen to her voice in my ear, feeling her nails on my skin, and my stomach settles. The next corner that Blake takes is a little easier to handle. As is the one after that. I close my eyes and let myself get a little lost in a Bristol bubble, I can see, feel, hear, and smell. The only thing I can’t do is taste.
Don’t go there, brain. We aren’t thinking about how good Bristol tastes. Back away slowly and there won’t be any trouble.
My brain fights it. So does my cock. And why not? We’re in a Bristol bubble. We can pretend everything is back to normal, and we get to fuck her as soon as we reach the venue.
Abort thoughts!
Taxes. Mortgage. Baseball. Wedding planning.
A-a-and, we’re back to normal. I breathe a sigh of relief as Blake pulls into the circular drive of the venue. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this plantation-style estate we just arrived at.
“You guys want any help with the bags?” Bristol asks as we come to a stop.
“No,” Blake says. “We’ve got it. Go put some dry clothes on. You’re soaked.”
In truth, we all are. The golf cart is covered, but the rain doesn’t always fall straight down. Bristol climbs off my lap and heads for the entrance.
“Brie,” I call out. Her name sounds funny coming from my lips again.
She stops and turns back to face me. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I point to my stomach and arm. She knows what she did.
She smiles. And I kid you fucking not, the rain stops, and sunlight breaks through at that exact moment, surrounding her in a fucking halo of gold and warmth. “You’re welcome.”
And with that, she disappears inside.
