28. Corny Jokes and Cum Catchers
Chapter twenty-eight
Corny Jokes and Cum Catchers
Sal
M y breath catches as Albany walks into the kitchen. The morning light streaming through the French doors limns her silhouette. Her hair is up in rollers with a scarf tied under her chin like a 1950s starlet. Fresh-faced, with her lower lip caught between her teeth, she pauses at the island, dismissing the plate of food with a nervous glance. I grab her kettle and fill it with fresh water, deciding to make her a cup of tea. “Why so nervous, little dove?” The burner click click clicks and whooshes on. “You’re going to kill this afternoon.”
“I don’t like photo shoots.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling through trembling lips.
Something in her voice makes me pause. “Oh yeah?”
“I always feel like something bad is going to happen. It’s weird. I love being a cam girl. Exposing the most intimate parts of my body on camera… I feel powerful and in control during a livestream where I’m controlling the narrative. But a photo… The entire reason for a photo is to capture a split second and ask it to stand up to the test of time. I don’t know, that’s just… a lot of pressure.” She taps her thumbnail against her teeth, wrapping her other arm around her waist.
I stop digging through her drawer of tea bags and walk around the island. I hold a hand out, and she takes it with the one she’d been tapping against her teeth. Her other arm is still wrapped around her waist, as if insulating herself from some future harm. “Tell me why. I want to be there for you today. I can do more than man the chocolate sauce.”
My pulse thrills then settles as she lets go of herself and slides into my arms, instinctively trusting me to hold both her and her insecurity. A primal desire to protect, to shield her from the things that hurt, has me pulling her so tight against me she begins to squirm. I let up on my hold, but only enough that she settles into me. Even muffled as she speaks into my chest, the pain is still razor-sharp. “The Harmon’s had a family photo shoot done two days before the accident. Haze wasn’t there. He’d been on the East Coast for work, and they had storms. A lot of planes got grounded. The photographer positioned us so he could add Haze in later. I never saw the photos.”
Fuuuuuuuck. I haven’t, either. I had seen photos of Haze’s family all over his house, and I’d never seen family photos with five people in them. I would have made the connection by now if one of them had had Albany posed with the family.
There’s a good chance after struggling to get a flight home, then the accident happening… Haze forgot about the photo shoot. I can’t imagine having to call and order photographs after not having been there. He probably blocked the whole thing out. Albany sighs and nuzzles in. “I have hair and makeup at eleven. We should leave.”
“Or…we could fuck. I could take you, right here, right now, and then you would have a little of me on the inside and all of me on the outside when you have to face the camera.”
A tiny breath hitches through her chest and then my arms. She shifts her weight, her thighs rubbing together as considers my offer. She lifts her head and meets my eyes. “We’ve taken things so slow, considering—” I chuckle, interrupting her, and she smiles, slapping my chest lightly. “A part of me wants to wait longer, to make a whole big romantic production out our official, all the bells and whistles first time, but….”
“But? Butt? I don’t think anal is the best idea before your photo shoot.” I deadpan.
A single laugh, low and husky, bursts out of her. “Can you carry me out to the car? Because if you can make it so I’m unable to stand I want it. I want you, Sal. I want you dripping out of my cunt the rest of the afternoon. Fuck me like you own me, baby, because you do.”
Holy fucking Nicolaus, saint of all chocolatiers.
I spin her around and yank her skirt up. “Hands on the edge of the counter.” She grips the edge. “Spread them out a little. Yes. Just like that. Enough to brace yourself. Don’t let go, little dove, or your ass will still be pink when we get there.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, but lays flat over the granite, pushing up on her tip toes as she spreads her legs.
A part of me revolts. I want to carry her upstairs and toss her on the bed. It’s unfair that I can’t have all of her. That her perfect tits are squashed and hidden, under a blouse, pressed hard into the countertop. That I’ll only be able to see one side of her face.
But I won’t deny her compliance is a huge turn on. I can smell her ripe, hungry cunt already dripping for me. I drop to my knees and inhale, running a finger through her slit. I stick it in my mouth and noisily slurp her arousal off, my mouth smacking as I pull my digit free.
She shivers, then begs. “Sal please. Make me forget about clicking cameras and a room full of people. I don’t want to see anyone but you.”
“I can do that, little dove.” I take a long leisurely lick of her sex. Flavor explodes on my tongue as my eyes fall closed.
“Sal,” she grinds out behind gritted teeth. “I said you could fuck me. Fuck. Me.”
I can’t help grinning. I’ve never heard her swear or curse. It’s so fucking hot. My dick is so hard it hurts.
I stand. She sighs, her shoulders sinking in relief when she hears my belt clank, and my zipper go down.
I grip her hips with on hand and my cock with the other. She presses herself harder into the countertop. Her bare thighs gleam, like vanilla crème with a hint of pearlized glitter in the morning sun, her pink, glistening cunt a perfect strawberry half, begging to be sunk into.
“Sal!”
Without another thought, I drive into her. When her plump, juicy ass smacks against me I want to stop, to lay my body over hers and wrap my arms around her the same way her tight, warm, dripping wet cunt is suctioned against my throbbing cock.
But that isn’t what she needs. She needs to fucked. Pummeled hard. To have all her doubts and fears and intrusive thoughts railed out of her. We have the rest of our lives to take our time. Right here and now, I have the opportunity to create a core memory. To prove to Albany that she, that her needs are my utmost priority.
I pull back, so far her channel spasms around empty air, so far, I could swear the shaft of my cock almost shivers in the ambient air, and then I slam into her again, driving her into the countertop. Fleetingly, I worry about bruising her, but I quickly dismiss the thought. That’s a problem for later.
Her fingers tighten, squeezing the edge of the island as a low, wanton moan bursts from her lips. “More. I want more.”
“I have more, little dove,” I murmur. I reach over her back and grasp her shoulder with one hand. And then I precede to pound the ever loving life out of her. I fuck her hard, pistoning in and out of her body, using the rebound of her soft belly and hips to slam back against her.
Blackberry and vanilla tickles my nose as her body heats up. I let my thoughts stray as I fuck her hard and fast, just enough to stave off the orgasm threatening to burst from my already clenched tight balls.
The sounds coming from Albany goad me into banishing the last of my reservations. I trust her to stop me before I hurt her. What began as soft, breathy mewls is getting louder, more animalistic and primal. The noises she’s making would drive Haze mad. If only there were a live feed on us right now. Haze would be prowling his office like a panther, claws flexed, ready to sink into both our chest and snatch our souls like a devil.
“I’m…I’m…I’m almost,” she whimpers, before drawing a heaving breath. Her knees lock. Her spine straightens as she sets her shoulders. Shit. She bounces harder with each stroke, the marble becoming more punishing as she locks her body down.
If only Haze was here. I’m afraid to let go of her shoulder or her hip. Afraid that if I let her go, I’ll slam her into the countertop at an off angle and hurt her. Yes, I trust her. But I know how important today is.
The kettle begins to scream.
Far be it from me to ignore a direct order from the universe.
“You ready baby?” I grunt. My dick is all I’ve got. I adjust the fingers on her hip, gripping her slick flesh tight. Flexing my knees, I squat, maybe an inch, just enough so that on the next stroke into her I’m angled just a little bit farther back. I swear I can feel the head of my cock drive into that sweet spot in the rim of her cervix.
Albany’s entire body freezes. Then shakes. Her head is thrown back, her mouth open in a soundless scream. Her rib cage expands as she finally draws breath. The sound that comes out her is enough to push me over the edge. One last drive into her perfect, pink pussy and I explode, gritting my teeth so I don’t howl like it’s my first hand job.
“Clench, now, if you want that to last until the shoot. Don’t move,” I instruct, panting as I walk around the island to turn off the burner. The urge to move quickly fills me. I can’t deliver her to her shoot late. I need to move.
I run up the stairs, my legs shaking, and rifle through a few of her drawers until I find a silky scrap of fabric that has to be underwear.
When I get back to the kitchen, she’s still splayed over the island, breathing hard. “Here,” I say, as I offer her the tiny article of clothing. “Thought you might want a pair of cum catchers.” I give her a lopsided grin, and the corners of her mouth tip lazily up into a small, slightly dazed return smile.
“You’re jokes are so stupid.” Her smile gets bigger. “I love them. I love everything about them.
“They love everything about you too,” I answer, not caring how ridiculous I sound. She knows exactly what I mean.
She stretches, then lifts her foot. I take the panties back and slip them under her feet. Then I hold out a hand. She takes it and stands, wobbling a bit. Then she lets go, adjusts her skirt and her scarf, and smiles, so big and wide I thump my chest, just to restart my heart.
“We’ll grab you a nice hot tea on the way to Sweet Alchemy. It will only take me five minutes to run in and grab my stuff. You’re going to rock this shoot, little dove.” I pick up her big back of supplies.
She grabs her purse. “Not going to tell me to suck it up, buttercup?” She taps me in the side with her elbow.
I lift a hand. “I solemnly swear never to tell you to suck it up. To fuck it out, maybe, but never to suck it up.”
She winks at me. “I’ll suck up a lot of things for love.”
I choke. She turns, heading out the door with a soft laugh.