Page 39 of The Cannon
“I want you to come all over my cock!”
That’s it. I take the final step off the cliff and into the abyss. I’m coming.
As the sound leaves my throat, I hear his. It’s guttural. Raw.
“Ohhhhhhh,” I scream.
“Bristol!”
In the magical moment he calls out my name. My eyes open to see the face of his orgasm. He’s soaring off mine. As eyes lock we’re coming together. I’m launched into the heavens, my body charged with a sexual electricity. He pumps deeper, I grind harder. We’re two beasts in heat somehow separated from our human selves.
As the orgasm retreats, I hold on as long as possible to the sensations. My pussy is throbbing.
It happened!
Sawyer lets loose with a hoot and a holler.
“Who hoo! Son of a bitch, woman! What’s that about not being able to…”
I lean over and quiet him with a congratulatory kiss for all that he did for me. Without pulling out he rolls me over. Now he’s on top and looking into my eyes.
“I knew you had it in you. Did you like that?”
What’s happening? Oh my god, I’m going to cry! Shit! There’s no crying in sex!
His eyes go wide and his lips part. “What’s this? Why the tears?”
“I’m so happy!” I cry.
Tears run from the corners of my eyes into my hairline. But I feel fingers wipe them away and lips kiss my cheeks and chin and tip of my nose.
“You’re an adorable girl.”
“I’m hardly that. I’m a mess of a woman. I don’t know why you’re so interested.”
“But are you glad I am?”
“Yes.”
My tears come to a halt. Our lips find each other and start the whole beautiful thing again.
* * *
“Doesmy hair look like I’ve been freshly ravaged?”
“No. It’s everything else about you that does,” he says chuckling.
“I hope you’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Where the hell did the braid go? The women will figure it out.”
Walking into the open front door of the house, we’re trying to regain our composure. Actually, it’s just me. Sawyer is perfectly calm and together. Unfortunately for me, there’s no way to avoid the obvious.
January, Charlotte and Mallory are going to spot it. I left them this afternoon with an intricate side braid. Now my hair is undone, my makeup reapplied by my own less-expert hand and the false eyelashes are history.
“Think anyone will notice?” I say.
“Think anyone won’t? I know I’m changed.”
