although the cover is carpeted in leaves from the oak trees lining her property. They look like they've been there for a year.
There's a giant trampoline in the back that's covered with netting. I huff a laugh.
She seems cautious. Protective. I like that, but she also seems uptight. Except when it comes to fucking.
My chest rumbles with approval, and I have to readjust my hardening dick. I have to admit she brings out a virile side of me. A primitive need I don't think I've ever felt before. I fucking love it. I’m not sure how long it will last, but I'm sure as fuck going to enjoy it while I can.
The stairs to the deck are on either side - not smart. Anyone could sneak onto her deck and get to the glass sliding doors to her kitchen easy. Someone like me. I keep my steps even and stay quiet as I move up the stairs. I take a peek inside. I don't want to startle my doll, I just wanna see if the coast is clear.
Her kitchen is pristine. Other than a pizza box sitting on the blue speckled marble counter, there's nothing out of place. Steel pots hang above a massive island. Her gas stove is large enough to cook for a dozen people, easy. This woman is serious about her cooking. That reminds me about her restaurant. I'll have to head over tomorrow and check it out. I was too busy today at the office. I cringe, remembering how a jerk-off tried to convince me he needed more time. What he needed to do was stop wasting his wife's hard-earned money on gambling. That's what he needed to do. I'm sure he won't be doing that shit anymore. Not after today.
I take a few steps in front of the glass. I can see the living room from the kitchen, and there are stairs on the right that lead downstairs.
I can't hear or see either of them though. I look at the handle to the glass door and wonder if she'd leave it open. She better not. She seems too smart for that. I take a tug and sure enough, it's locked.
Good girl.
I press my ear to the door, but I still can't hear a damn thing.
I almost leave, but then I see her. I stand perfectly still. I can't even fucking breathe.
What the fuck am I doing? It hits me this very second that I'm gonna look like a psychopath if she sees me. I push my grin down, afraid even that will alert her to my presence. She’s making me fucking crazy. But I fucking love it. I never have to work this hard for anything.
A broad smile appears on her face as she raises her hand and wags her finger. Her eyebrows raise, and I can clearly understand the mouthed word “bedtime” as she disappears from view.
Fuck yeah it is. Time for me to take her to bed. As soon as she’s presumably gone back to her son’s room, I sneak back around to the front and wait on the doorstep. I immediately send a text.
I want you right now. – Dom
I know I’m gonna need to wait a minute while she puts her son to bed. I’m not a very patient man though. I lean against the wall of her front porch and frown at the text. I shouldn’t have added Dom. She’s already got my number programmed in her phone. I should know, since I put it in there. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck before crossing my arms over my broad chest. Any minute now. I look down, waiting for the delivered text to be seen.
What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s got me all tied up over her. I shake my head at the thought, feeling like a little bitch. This isn’t me. I don’t sneak out to women’s houses and second-guess my text messages. Fuck no! I send them a text, and they come running to me. What is it about this broad that has me wrapped around her little finger? Just as I push off the wall and consider leaving, my phone beeps.
I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.
I stare at the text. That’s interesting. She doesn’t want her dirty little secret anymore? No, that’s not it. She wants me. I fucking know she wants me. Before I can respond though, another text comes through.I really can’t. I’m sorry for earlier.
Sorry for earlier? What the hell does that