Thrust(5)

By: Victoria Ashley



“See ya,” he says as I walk away.

I ride the elevator up to the 10th floor, the very top, and open the door to room 1020. It feels so good to walk into my apartment, and the first thing I do is fall back into my leather chair and close my eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

My plan earlier tonight was to just stop by the bar for one quick beer and come back up to my apartment. Once I saw her—Calla—I knew that plan would change.

Hell . . . even the back of her head had me enthralled and wanting to see more. The way her long, thick, blonde hair laid resting on her slim back made me think about what it would be like to tangle my hands in it. Then, when she turned around and I set sight on those big, emerald eyes, framed by a set of thick lashes and those shiny, plumps lips, my dick twitched.

As if I wasn’t already intrigued, she opened that mouth of hers and I knew I had to stay. She was fun too, with an addictive personality. Calla is definitely a girl that I want to get close to, but not too close; never too close, and I always have ways of making sure that never happens.

Laying my head back, I take a deep breath and slowly release it when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I already know who would be calling this late on a Friday night.

I answer my phone. “Damn you, Hunter. It’s been a long night.”

I hear his annoying laugh before he finally speaks, “Oh calm your dick, big bro. It can’t be that bad.”

I let the events of the last week run through my head and then picture all the ways that I can choke the life out of Hunter when he gets back from his vacation. “Just make sure you’re back by next Friday, Hunter. No more extending this shit. Got it.”

“Already have my ticket booked. Anyways,” he stops to talk to some chick that is saying his name in one of those annoying ways that makes you wish you were deaf. “I was calling to let you know that I haven’t partied myself to death . . . yet. Gotta go take care of Hillary. See ya, dic . . .”

He’s still talking when I hang up. I really don’t want to listen to his voice right now. It’s even more annoying when I’m pissed at him.

Closing my eyes, my thoughts instantly go back to Calla. I haven’t seen a woman with such natural beauty in a long time, possibly even ever. Most women pay to obtain the beauty that she probably doesn’t even know she possesses. Maybe I need to show her just how damn beautiful she is.

I scan down her body mentally, picturing the way her tight, little plump ass looked in those skinny jeans. I feel the beginning of an erection and a bad case of blue balls coming on.

Damn . . .

I haven’t had blue balls in a long time. Probably not since I was like sixteen. I never had any problems after that in that department.

Undoing my jeans and zipper, I push my hand underneath the waistband enough to lower my briefs and jeans down to my thighs to allow my thick erection to break free.

Biting my bottom lip, I grab ahold of my shaft and start to stroke my cock to my filthy thoughts of Calla riding my face. I can picture me wrapping my hands in the bottom of her long hair and pulling as she rides it slow and hard, letting me taste her until her juices wet my tongue.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long before I feel a slight tug in my balls, followed by a loud moan through my lips as my orgasm rides through me, my cum squirting into the palm of my other fisted hand, or at least mostly. It’s hard to contain my loads.

“Shit.” Tugging my shirt off, I clean up my mess, wash up quickly, and pass the fuck out in my bed, partially satisfied and still hard.

Fuck me . . .





STUPID, STUPID BEER. I HATE you. I sit up slowly, holding my head in my hands. “It’s so bright!” I cover my eyes. “Why is it so bright in here?”

I hear the sound of Tori’s footsteps before I hear my bedroom door open. “What the hell? Why are you screaming and waking up the whole apartment? Brad and I are still sleeping. Shush your mouth in here and put up your curtains for crying out loud. It’s bright as fuck in here.”

“Screw you too, you sucky friend,” I mumble as she walks out of my room, slamming the door behind her.

I moan and groan to myself while crawling back under my blanket and hiding my face. “I’m so hungry.” I internally cry while remembering that all of our stuff is stilled packed up. The only things we managed to unpack were bedding and some bathroom stuff.

Rolling over, I allow myself to fall off the bed, wrapped up in my blankets. I lay here for a few minutes before mustering up the energy to slowly make my way into the bathroom and splash some water on my face.

Standing here, looking at my reflection, my thoughts change to the bar last night. Sexy guy. Nice face, nice lips, nice . . . everything, and with a gym bag.

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