Suddenly it’s like every cell inside me explodes with bliss as a tsunami of ecstasy rolls over my entire body, leaving me limp and drowning in the amazing sensation. “Oh, my God, Connor! Fuck! Yes!” I don’t even recognize my growling voice escaping my throat as I let go of his hair and thrust my hands over my face.
Connor sits back on his haunches, admiring the trembling jelly he’s reduced me to. That smirk on his face tells me exactly how proud his is to drive me this wild. “Fuck me, baby, please, I need to feel more of you,” I beg, trying to pull him on top of me, pants and all.
“You sure that’s what you want?” His eyes glint as he toys with me.
“Please,” my voice is hoarse with need.
He doesn’t say another word, instead he slides off the edge of the bed and strips free from his pants and underwear. I can’t help but lick my lips as his thick cock springs, swaying slightly between his legs.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Connor climbs back between my legs and I wrap them around his waist, hooking my ankles behind him and pulling him into me. He holds the base of his cock and guides it into my wet pussy in one deep, unrelenting thrust.
“I love you,” he murmurs as I look up into his eyes. His cock stretches me out in a way that makes me feel so tight inside, like I was made for him and him alone.
“Ohh!” He buries himself until his balls slap against me and I feel full inside, “I’ve always loved you Connor,” I grip my muscles down against him tight and he thrusts inside me quicker and quicker.
I don’t mean to dig my nails into him, slowly dragging them across his back as he fills me over and over with his hard cock. Connor grabs my wrists, thrusting them over my head and pins them to the bed as he fucks me faster, urgently. “I will always love you, Charlotte. Forever.” He breathes the words as he claims my pussy, making me his.
Connor roots inside me, his orgasm tearing through him as he fills me with his seed. The warm spurts splashing inside me bring on an unexpected wave of pleasure. I can’t even make a sound as another orgasm tears through me.
Connor rolls off to the side and I snuggle into his chest as he wraps his arms around me tight. Our hearts are beating erratically and our breathing is jagged, but our bodies are just a tangle of relaxed limbs. We both lie on the bed, satisfied and happy.
“I’ll love you forever too, Connor,” I nuzzle into his chest and smile as he runs his hand over my hair.
“Like I said, I’ll be chasing you around even when we’re wrinkled and old,” he chuckles and pulls me closer. I close my eyes and let the thought stir up beautiful images in my brain. Of the life we’re going to have together. As parents, lovers and friends. A smile crests my lips as I let my dreams of our future swirl in my head.
34|Charlotte
“Wahhhh!” My eyelids spring open and my breasts feel tender as the sound of little Christopher wakes me from my nap. I don’t mean to keep passing out when I put him down, but I guess they say “sleep when the baby sleeps” for a reason.
I walk down the hall and lift my fussy boy from his crib, giving him a little kiss on the nose. “There’s my cutie pie,” I coo at him. Is there anything that can brighten your day quicker than a toothless, drooly baby smile? I brush his soft, curly hair across his forehead and bounce him as I walk down the stairs to the living room.
“Mama! Lookamee! I’m a princess and Daddy is a prince,” my daughter Maisy jumps up from the checkered blanket spread out on the hardwood floor in her fluffy, pink dress.
I can’t help but laugh at the blanket tied around Connor’s neck and the homemade crown on his head.
“Well, it looks like you two are having a nice afternoon, Princess Maisy,” I smile down at my beautiful daughter and can’t believe she’s soon going to be heading off to preschool. Where did the time go? It feels like only yesterday we were up doing night feedings and diaper duty with her. Now her brother has taken over in those areas and she’s my rambunctious, curious little beauty.
“We are!” She hops around enthusiastically, “Daddy and I are having a tea party, and I even poured the tea myself and guess what?” She claps excitedly.
“What?” I grin.
“I didn’t spill any on the floor this time! I did it like a big girl,” she puffs out her chest proudly.
“That’s great honey, good job,” I lean over and give her a hug while Christopher drools down the front of her dress.
“Ewww, yucky!” She scrunches her nose and scoots back over to her father.
I can’t help but take a second to soak the scene in, Connor is sitting cross-legged on the blanket holding up an empty, plastic tea cup and Maisy carefully grasps the teapot and shakily pours some water into his cup.
“Well, thank you Princess!” He holds his cup up to her and she lifts her tiny mug up, clinking it slightly against his.
“Cheers!” She cries out.
I carry Christopher into the kitchen and grab a bottle from the fridge and he sticks out his hands trying to take it from me. I place it on the counter out of his reach as I grab a pot and fill it with water so I can warm the milk, but he fusses a little not understanding that if I just handed it to him it would cramp his little tummy.
Balancing him on my hip, I sway back and forth gently and he is quickly distracted and back to the cooing, loving baby I’m getting to know. At three months, I feel like I’m just starting to get the very first glimpses into his personality. He’s quieter and more observant than his sister was at this age. Since she came into the world, she’s made sure everyone in her wake is aware of her presence. Quiet is a word no one would use to describe Maisy.
The only exception is when she goes to my brother’s church services. There she sits still with her hands folded in her lap on her favorite yellow dress and waits patiently until all the kids are called out for Sunday school. She loves watching Marcus get up from the pew and say his opening speech for the day. Almost as much as she loves going to the children’s classes run by Marcus’ wife. For a girl who can’t sit still for more than five minutes, it’s amazing to see her so attentive.
I pluck the warmed bottle from the pot and test it on the inside of my wrist to make sure I didn’t overheat it. Christopher is waving his arms wildly and opening his mouth like a fish out of water impatiently. It’s the perfect temperature. “There ya go buddy, you’re hungry aren’t ya?” I tap my finger lightly on Christopher’s nose and watch his eyes light up as he devours his bottle.
Walking back into the living room, I sit down and enjoy the baby snuggles as Christopher drinks his milk and smile hazily at the dream come true my life has become. With our first born on the floor playing with the sexiest Dad alive and our little boy cradled in my arms, it’s hard to imagine a time before now. It’s hard to remember the struggles we ever had or the insignificant dramas we faced.
I know our entire lives won’t always be this easy or wonderful. We’ll face problems just like every other family, but as I sit here, in this moment, this is as close to perfection as I can imagine anyone ever living.
I am truly blessed.
The End
The Beauty’s Beast
Full Length Bonus Novel - Gabe’s Story
Synopsis:
In Hollywood everyone dreams about the fairytale ending. But I’m not promising her happily ever after. Just one night with the beast.
Gabe
You know what’s f*@#ing ironic? They used to call me Gabe the Babe.
Of course, that was before an IED blew half my face off.
Now my scars are all anyone can see. Unless I’m prowling the floors of an LA sex club.
When I walk in there, barely dressed, women aren’t looking at my face. Not when I’m packing a python like this.
I thought I had it all figured out. Meaningless sex, no strings, no pitying looks…
But then I saw her. With her innocent doe eyes, her plump lips and her breakneck curves… I know one night could never be enough. Hell, one lifetime seems too s
hort.
Vanessa
I can’t believe I just landed the role of a lifetime. Every actress dreams of her big break and my star is on the rise. It’s a dream come true.
I’ll be playing a nymphomaniac in the blockbuster of the year. There’s only one problem: I’ve never had an orgasm.
Ever.
Not even one.
So now I’m in a sex club trying to research my role when I run into the sexiest beast I’ve ever seen.
Literally.
All of a sudden I’m thinking of doing a different kind of research.
With him. Between the sheets. Naked.
1|Gabe
I know a lot of guys like to get pumped up before they come to places like this, and I don’t mean they give themselves a pep talk in the mirror. I mean, what do I know? They could be jerking their cocks in the mirror, that might be their thing.
I’m not judging.
When they come to a sex club, they want the goods to look as big, as eye-catching, and hopefully as mouth-watering as possible. After all, if we’re going to be walking around in our tighty-whities, they want to make sure they have something to fill them up with.
That’s not my game. I don’t need to give myself a painful set of blue balls before I show up. My confidence might have been shaken when they pieced me back together after our Humvee hit an improvised explosive device overseas, but no one is looking at my sewn together face when they see what I’m packing.
I walk past the familiar faces crowding the different parts of the club. As I strut by, I glaze over the usual bunch of women out tonight. My white, almost translucent, underwear reflects the lighting in each area as I walk through. They glow an eerie purple and the ridge of my cock’s helmet and all the veins seem to pop as I make my way through the seated section under black light where women are taking things slow, engaging in the art of seduction, dragging it all out. The walls flash in erratic shades of gray and white as I look like I’m choppily hopping over the floor under the strobe lights on the edge of the dance floor where some women are already completely naked and having their bodies sucked, licked, squeezed and teased by more than one guy.
I take a look as I pass them, but seeing them exposed like that, it just doesn’t have the same effect. I’ve been doing this circuit for over half a year now, and I’ve met all the women who come here. I’m not sure what I’m looking for anymore. When I first showed up, it was obvious, I just wanted to feel wanted again. I wanted someone to look at my body, at my fat cock, and give me a chance for the night. No conversations about the military. No pitying glances at my scars. No discussions about how many surgeries it took to put me back together. Just pure passion. It gave me nights where I could feel normal again. It took stripping off almost all of my clothes to feel less naked and less vulnerable than my deep scars down the side of my eye make me feel in the day.
I stop at the bar and Mitch nods at me. He finishes mixing some girly cocktails and hands them off to a couple of ladies wearing leather bodysuits with holes for their tits to peek out. They wrap their arms around each other and hold their pink drinks in their free hands, walking off toward the dance floor. I’ve met that duo before, they’re broken.
All the women I’ve met in places like this are. They might not have the same physical scars I do, but when I’ve gotten to know them, when they’ve spent the night here drinking and getting fucked, I’ve heard the sad stories. Sure, I’ve seen the girls who come out just because they’re in Los Angeles and they want to have a crazy story to tell their friends back in Wisconsin when they get back from their vacation. But the regulars, the ones I see every single time I’ve been here, they’re just as damaged as I am.
Mitch walks to my end of the bar, his eyes shamelessly travel over my body, just like he always does. I don’t mind that he flirts with me or checks me out. He knows that I’m here for the women and he’s always respected that. I’m putting my cock out on display, if he wants to soak it in, I don’t really care. Besides, he always mixes me doubles, on the house. It must be how chicks feel when they go out for the night and just have to suggestively smile and have ten guys falling all over themselves to buy their drinks.
“Hey sailor,” Mitch smiles, he loves calling me that. He started when he found out I was in the SEALs. “Rum and cock? Oh, I mean Coke,” he smirks and gives me a wink. I can’t help but laugh. I was starting to feel too jaded being here tonight. It’s nice to have him lighten the mood.
“I will take the latter,” I lean against the bar and relax as he mixes my drink. Mitch doesn’t overdo it on the ice like some of these bartenders do, so that when it melts, you have a tall glass of rum flavored water. Instead he only plinks a couple of cubes into the glass and then liberally coats them with expensive rum. After a dash of Coke is sprayed on top, he hands it to me, making sure our fingers touch when he does.
“What do I owe ya?” I smile.
Mitch takes his time looking me up and down, the corners of his mouth twitch up and he pushes his shaggy hair back, “Don’t get me started,” he teases me. “You know drinks are always on the house for you, unless you piss me off, then the drinks are singles and the price is double,” he tosses his hair back and laughs at his own joke loudly.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I smile back and let my eyes wander the room lazily. Nothing out there has changed. More women have gotten naked on the dance floor. One lady with long platinum blonde hair has her lingerie pulled down over her tits and is clutching onto a redheaded woman who is sucking on her nipples from the front, while a black man who looks like he probably competes in bodybuilding has her panties slid down her legs and is nailing her from behind. I watch for a minute, the way her face is contorted with pleasure. The way the three of them are simultaneously enjoying putting on a show and enjoying each other. My cock doesn’t twitch. I don’t get hard. I might as well be watching a truck paint lines on the road. My eyes are drawn to it because it’s something to see, because it’s a curiosity, not because it’s doing anything for me.
“You look bored,” Mitch draws my attention back to him. I shrug. It’s not boredom, more like apathy.
“Maybe I need to take a break from all this for a while,” I take a mouthful of my drink and swallow the boozy trail of heat. “It’s just not doing much for me these days,” I admit.
“Well, I think I can change that for you,” his eyes twinkle and I snort.
“Yeah, well, thanks but you know that’s not how I roll,” I shake my head and take another drink.
“I’m not talking about me, God, full of yourself much,” he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “I mean, I know you’re… cocky,” he sneaks a look at my tight, white underwear, “but you’re not even my type,” he puts his hands on his hips. “But that little lamb over there, the one who looks like she took a wrong turn and fell down a rabbit hole into Wonderland, now, I know she’s your type.”
I slowly turn my head and peer over my shoulder to where Mitch is nodding and I freeze.
He’s right. She is absolutely gorgeous. Her long brown hair flows down her back in a waterfall of cascading curls, while a few strands hang down over the front of her shoulders and hug her plump breasts. Her milky skin looks like she has never seen the sun, which you never see in LA. Out here, everyone looks like they spend their eight hours of shut eye sleeping in a tanning bed. With her wide doe eyes, I can see what Mitch said about her being a little lamb. That and the fact that she’s wearing more clothes than almost all the women in this place put together. Did she take a wrong turn? This isn’t an easy club to get into, so I can’t imagine she did. However, from her innocent, fear-tinged gaze, she doesn’t look like someone who has been to a place like this before. I feel like I’m struggling to breathe enough oxygen into my lungs, like just watching her from across the room has somehow knocked the air out of me. Every muscle in my body coils up, my fingers grips the dew-covered side of my glass and I don’t take my eyes off her as I tell Mitch goodbye and begin to walk away.
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“Go get her tiger,” he calls out, but I don’t smile back. I don’t risk losing sight of her. Tiger is right. I feel like I’m prowling across the floor, moving in on her, stalking her. It’s as if my body is magnetized to hers. As if something inside me is being pulled toward her, like I’m not completely in control of my feet right now, but they’re taking steps I’m destined to take.
I slide past the nuzzling couples and ignore the half-naked women grinding on each other as I focus on only her.
I need her.
She stirs something inside me, something deeper than the desire to fuck. Sure, that’s there too, I am a man after all. But beyond that, I want to talk to her. I want to get to know her. I’m already drawn into her story and I haven’t even met her.
Yet.
“You look a little lost, need some help?” I slide up behind her and murmur in her ear.
She jumps and whirls around too fast, her nerves are tattooed all over as her beautiful brown eyes flutter open wide and her arms jostle against my abs.
“Oh my!” Her elbow bangs against my stomach and her glass of bubbly gets knocked sideways in her hand, dumping empty over my body and traveling down my treasure trail to my cock. The flimsy fabric of my underwear soaks and loses color, revealing my fat, fleshy dick underneath.
“Oh shit!” She starts to run her dainty fingers over my skin, attempting to wipe away the champagne. My cock moves a little as desire begins to flood my body. “Oh … shit,” she repeats slower this time, her large eyes soaking in the beginnings of my erection and then traveling up my body until they lock on mine.
Tinder Ella: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale Page 28