The percolation in my loins spreads, erupting into tremors as I cry out my release. He bucks his hips in rhythm to my up and down motion, spearing into me just as I descend. My body absorbs the impact, the pain muted by the endorphins rushing through my body. He gaze locks with mine as he comes, shoving hard and deep into me, taking my breath away. He lets go of my hips, and I crumble atop him. I lay there, breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. He rubs the back of my head and even strokes my hair. His cock is still throbbing inside of me.
I realize I like this too much and shift. He grabs his cock, holding onto the condom so that it doesn’t unexpectedly come off.
“I should let you get ready,” I say, climbing off him.
“Would you like to come see the project site?”
I try not to look too glad that he’s interested in my company.
“Um, sure,” I answer.
He goes into the bathroom to toss the con
dom, then grabs his clothes. “I’ll tell Eric. There’s probably breakfast down in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
After Tony leaves, I ready myself, giddy that I can spend more time with Tony. I even apply a little make-up. My haircut is a bit plain, and my styling skills are next to none, so I decide to give myself a French braid just to make my hair a little more interesting. I throw on jeans, a shirt, and a chunky sweater.
Sierra’s bedroom door is open, and I can see that no one is in there. I hear her snoring, though, and it’s coming from Eric’s room. Passing by Tony’s room, I hear him on the phone.
Breakfast is laid out in the kitchen like a buffet. Lifting up the covers to the chafing dishes, I find eggs benedict, bacon, toast, some kind of potato hash, and fresh fruit salad. There’s also three different pitchers of juice, coffee and tea set out. I could get used to this. Beats my cereal and cold milk.
“Sleep well?”
Putting back a cover, I turn around to find Eric smirking at me.
I nod, grab a plate and turn back toward breakfast.
“Nice jeans,” he says, his gaze staying on my ass even after I’ve turned around to face him.
I’m wearing my best stretch jeans. Got it on sale at Macy’s. I didn’t buy it to look sexy, though I know the pair fits me well.
To my astonishment, Eric walks over and puts his hand on my butt. “Not bad for white girl ass.”
I jump. Part of me doesn’t believe he actually did what he did. I don’t know what to do. He’s the host. Not just my host. But Tony’s, too. I’m essentially in his house, about to eat his food, so a part of me feels impolite calling him out. Maybe I’ll just let this instance slide.
“Personally, I’m not a fan of ethnic asses anyway,” Eric says, following in my steps. “And small tits can be sexy, too.”
I flush. I can hear Lila saying, I know your mother taught you better than that.
If I were of quicker wit, I might have a comeback like “just like small dicks can be fun,” but I’m still stunned. I’m hungry, but I don’t want breakfast now if he’s going to be around.
I’ve reached the corner of the counter, a dead end.
Eric draws up in front of me, invading my space. “You seemed to like that pool table. Maybe you and I can play a round tonight?”
“It’s a snooker table,” I reply, though what I really want to say is “get the hell away from me.”
The next thing I know, his hand is between my thighs, grabbing me. I yelp and manage to scurry away.
“That—that’s not okay,” I manage to stutter, wishing I had the guts to clock him.
He smirks. “I paid for you, so I basically own your pussy.”
“I didn’t agree—you shouldn’t assume—”
“You know that I can have any pussy I want? We Drumm men, when we see something we want, we take it.”
I feel sick now and have lost my appetite. Plate still in hand, I rush out of the kitchen and collide into Tony.