How Many Words?

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Muted clicking filled the sunroom. Mike typed away on the battered Chromebook, crafting with brevity.

Amber wandered over, her hands curled around a cup of steaming coffee.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked, “Writing porn?”

Mike nodded, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“You usually look happy when you do it, or at least kinda horny. You don’t seem like that now,” she observed.

“Good stories with only 750 words are hard,” Mike replied.

Amber placed her mug on the counter and pulled the rolling chair around to make Mike face her. She straddled him.

“750 words sounds like a school project for an 8th grade. It can’t be that hard.”

“It’s not long enough to tell a compelling story,” Mike replied, “I don’t have much space to work with. It’s like doing a good commercial in 30 seconds. Every word counts.”

“What’s the theme?” she asked. Mike didn’t have one. “Oooh, tell them I’m Asian! Do a racial one.”

“I think it’s more popular to have a black man and a white woman. It’s not my thing and I don’t know if I could do Sincan Escort a good story, not that I’m judging people who like it.”

“What if I was into it?” Amber asked, wrinkling her nose in merriment.

“We can talk about it. Do you really want to fuck a black guy?” Mike asked.

“No. I want YOU to fuck a black guy,” she said. Mike looked confused and Amber kept it together a record six seconds. Her face blossomed into a grin and she burst out laughing, rocking in his lap. She felt him respond to her body’s motion and she rocked again, gently this time. She slowed the pace down and deliberately teased him, adding a bit of pressure to excite him.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said, “But I guess we cross gay stories off the list.”

She thought about it. “What do you actually write?”

Mike shrugged, “I like exhibitionism and public nudity, some other stuff. I don’t have a single focus and I do different categories.”

“List them,” Amber said. Mike went through the list. She Etlik Escort considered each one and nodded for him to go to the next.

“So,” she said finally, “I think we have some options.” She pulled her shirt off over her head in one practiced move. Mike’s gaze flicked down to her black, lacy bra. He grinned in appreciation at her cleavage topping the bra’s material.

“Bend me over the table,” she said, “Force me.”

“It’s not exactly CNC if you offer up the opportunity,” Mike said.

“Okay,” she continued, “I have question regarding definition.”

Mike waited for her to go on.

“Is it a masturbation story if it’s me masturbating you?” Amber asked.

“Ish?” Mike replied.

“Well, what if it’s me masturbating you … with my mouth?”

“That’s a blowjob,” Mike said, “Obviously.”

“What if I’m masturbating you, I’m just stroking your cock, sliding my hand up and down your shaft, stroking your balls with my fingertips, and I get you nice and hard,” she continued, “And I squeeze Çankaya Escort you a bit stronger and pick up the pace and you start breathing heavily. I know you’re going to cum and I want to give you that orgasm. I want to pleasure your cock and help you relax and I do all the work.”

Amber reached between their bodies and grasped his cock, hardening in his shorts.

“And the whole time I’m between your legs, on my knees, masturbating you like a good girl.”

Amber slid out of his lap and eased herself down to the floor. He pushed up off the chair when she patted his thighs, allowing her to slide his shorts and boxers off his hips and down his legs. His cock sprung free, hard and sticking straight up.

Her eyes glowed as she took him in her hand and stroked him. Mike widened his feet so she could move closer. She put her head on his thigh, enraptured by her hand sliding up and down the ramrod length of him.

“Are you close?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t too far away. His body was tightening and Amber could feel his thighs thrumming under her cheek.

“So,” she continued, speaking low, “You’re just about to finish when … ” She leaned forward and took his cock in her mouth. It didn’t take long. Mike cried out, unloading his balls into Amber’s warm mouth. She cleaned him up.

“Was that worth 750 words?” she asked.

Satisfied, Mike nodded.

The End

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