by Jen Eastwood
“I feel it inside me, Trent.” It forced out a final spurt I never knew I had. It finally dawned on me that Veronica was downright dangerous. Even under my control, she knew how to play me like a guitar in the middle of a solo.
My body gave out as I drifted between the desire for sleep and wanting to see the aftermath. I caught my wind as I felt her hand rest on my stomach. I couldn't help gasping out, “Are you a woman, or a fucking demon?”
Veronica hovered her face above mine and kissed me on the lips. “I might be both.”
Either way, she made a personal fantasy I couldn't dream of fulfilling as real as the snow piling up outside. “I'd ask for another round, but I need a few hours.”
She smiled and said, “Don't worry. I've had my fill of skiing.” Her breasts rested against my face as she shifted her body to cradle my own. “I think we'll both enjoy the next two weeks.”
And indeed we did enjoy them. I still guard the videos I ordered Veronica to agree to like priceless works of art. The real question in my mind the entire trip was, “Have I knocked her up or not?”
Whether she was bluffing or not was a question I didn't care too much about. There were worse fates than being able to pull out a famous swimsuit session in a magazine, then saying, “Yeah, I came in that about twenty times over winter break. So how did you spend your vacation, bud?”