I’ll make her swallow every drop for punishment.
Chapter 11
Joy
I’m insane… or maybe bipolar. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Especially since I’ve had one date with the man. Actually, I’m not sure you can call the day we’ve shared a date. Eh, it doesn’t matter either way. I’m going to his house to get laid after one non-date, first date. I’m pretty sure that equates to me being one of those scarlet women my grandmother used to talk about with her church friends, while shaking her head and clicking her tongue in disgust.
Luckily, grandmother is long gone and will never know her granddaughter is one of those fallen women. Of course she never liked me much either and now I’m probably going to hell for loose morals and thinking it’s good she’s dead. I guess I’ll see her again after all.
I stop raging a war with my brain when I come to Eb’s door. He didn’t close it. It’s pulled together, but not shut, there’s about a two-inch crack. Surely he didn’t mean to do that. It can be dangerous and his electric bill will skyrocket. He can’t mean to heat all of the outdoors. I frown at that thought, because now I’m even starting to sound like my grandmother.
I tighten my hands into fists a few times, trying to gather together my courage and then I knock on the door. I look, but I don’t see a doorbell. I wait for him to show up, or at least yell a response but a few minutes pass and there’s nothing. I knock again. Still nothing. I know he’s here, maybe he’s done with me since I just turned him down. Not that he knows this is me. I don’t think he could—unless there’s a camera around here. I look around trying to spot a security camera. How embarrassing would it be if Eb is watching me from his computer and laughing because I turned him down, but changed my mind. I frown, when I don’t see a camera or anything. I start to turn around, but instead I knock one last time. I need to get a grip. Maybe he was just in the restroom or something. He could be asleep, which is just another reason the door should have been closed and locked. Eb could be murdered or anything with his door open like that while trying to sleep. I start to pull it closed and then freeze. Images of Eb, lying in a pool of blood, bludgeoned to death by a hammer, which is lying close to his lifeless body, flash through my mind.
I watch way too many true crime shows, but still I am panicking. Before I can second guess myself I push his door open the rest of the way and walk through.
His house is dark. I use my hands to pat the wall, finding a light switch. Pale light floods the room. There’s a desk with a computer on it, and it looks like sticky notes have exploded all over the room. There is, however, not one sign of a murder or break in.
I start to back out of the room and run to my house, before Eb finds me and decides to call the police on me for breaking into his house, when I hear a moan. It’s faint but clearly a moan. I take a hesitant step forward when I hear it again. Now those visions of Eb’s bloody death come back to me and I walk hesitantly toward them. I see the canister of cookies I brought the other day, sitting on the edge of the desk. As self-defense goes it sucks, but I grab it. Maybe I can throw it at him and distract him enough to get away if he turns his knife on me.
I feel like I’m walking on hot coals as I make it to the last door at the end of the hall. I hear small indistinguishable noises coming from in there. I reach out to open the cracked door a little more, while simultaneously trying to talk myself out of it so I can run away. Just as I’m about to turn the knob I hear Eb again. It’s his voice and I know a moment of relief, because he’s obviously alive.
“Yes,” he moans out and it’s definitely a moan. I open the door thinking of nothing more than the fact that Eb’s alive, but he’s moaning. Maybe he fell… “Joy,” he growls as I open the door.
My eyes go round. My mouth drops open.
Eb is lying on the bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. A very large cock that is hard and glistening. He’s stroking himself and his head is thrown back against the pillow. He’s jacking himself off and from the looks of things he’s very close.
He’s jacking himself off.
And it’s my name he growled.
Mine.
Oh boy…
Chapter 12
Eb
God. I haven’t jacked-off into my own hand in fucking years, but with visions of Joy floating in my head, sucking my cock, I can feel cum rising in my balls. I’m so close to exploding, I just need one little push over the edge. I throw my head back and close my eyes tight, conjuring up a picture of Joy bound to my bed, her legs stretched apart to the point it’s almost painful, her pussy glistening with her juices, and begging for my tongue.
I’m so lost in the fantasy I can smell Joy now. That scent of sugar and vanilla that’s oh so sweet it makes me hungry to taste her. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have her body to paint with my…
“Eb…”
My body jerks. That wasn’t part of the dream I’m playing in my head. My hand tightens on my dick as I stop mid-stroke. I look up to see Joy standing at my door, her gaze is glued on my dick and she’s licking her lips.
Fuck yes.
“See something you like?” I ask, my voice hoarse, throaty and full of hunger.
“I… I thought you were hurt,” she whispers, but she still doesn’t tear her gaze away from my dick. I stroke myself again, just to see what she does. I can literally here her take a shuddering breath as her hand comes up against her chest.
“I am hurt.”
“You are?” she asks and finally she looks at my face.
“I’m in a lot of pain, sweet Joy.”
“I… you are?” she asks again, her eyes round and she’s biting down on her bottom lip and something about the way I can see a hint of her teeth against the lush red lips is fucking sexy.
“I’m so fucking hard it hurts, Joy. I need your help.”
“You… Eb, I… shit,” she whispers.
Her whispered curse makes me hungry. I want to make her say all kinds of bad, bad words. Somehow, I think they’d be fucking hot coming from her lips.
“Take off your clothes, Joy. Come make me all better,” I tell her, smiling. I hold my hand at the base of my cock and squeeze it, trying to calm myself down. Now that Joy is here, I can’t shoot my load too soon. I need to wait… until I can paint Joy in my cum and make her beg for more.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You’re here for a reason, Joy,” I growl, I won’t let her back out.
“Your door was open. You could have been attacked. I came here to help,” she says lamely.
“And you were going to what?”
“To try and stop them so they wouldn’t hurt you,” she says, shaking the tin of cookies she gave me the other day.
Her gaze has gone back to my cock so I stroke it, hoping that will keep her from trying to back out. Pre-cum slides from the head of my cock and down my shaft and over my hand. God when I come, I’m going to drown her in it.
“Take your clothes off, Joy. Let me give you what those pretty blue eyes of yours are begging for.”