I’m about to fill you up with my cum.
Loading my favorite fucking cum tank.
It…was…just…too…much, pleasure turning me maudlin as it burst out of nowhere, and even though both of us heard footsteps coming towards us, I just couldn’t help it. My head fell back, his fingers slipping out, and I started to moan.
The sheikh swiftly lifted me off the balustrade, and a hand slammed over my mouth just as I saw a couple of students pass the hallway below us in the corner of my eye.
Almost got caught, I thought dazedly.
But I couldn’t make myself care.
Because at that moment my orgasm was still raging through my body while the sheikh leaned back against the wall just before he started bouncing me up and down his fully embedded dick.
Oh God, God, oh God.
I could only moan against the hand still cupped over my mouth as I felt the sheikh start cumming as well, his dick jerking and twitching inside of me as it unloaded so much cum that it almost felt my belly was about to burst full of it.
Our bodies began to shudder in strange harmony, our pleasure becoming one, and my eyes drifted shut as I felt myself slowly losing my grip on consciousness.
Not once, not fucking once, not even in my wildest dreams, had I ever imagined that I would one day find myself in this position, letting a man have unprotected sex with me in public, much less be willing to bear the consequences (literally) and give birth to his kid.
That only meant one thing, and unlike before, I was no longer willing to fool myself into thinking I was a gold-digger at heart.
Oh, I fucking wished it was just that.
But it wasn’t, and the truth was much, much worse.
Where are you?
I’m in your apartment. Emergency.
Message received at 0937h from Cum Tank.
I can do this, I told myself as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
More to the point, I have to do this.
Because if I didn’t, then it meant I was no longer myself, and that wouldn’t fucking do at all.
No matter what, I needed to still be myself or things would never work out between the asshole and me. I needed to believe what my instincts were telling me and ignore every Buzzfeed and Huffpost article I read that begged to differ.
I checked my phone for the nth time in the past ten minutes, but there was nothing. No call, no text, no email. Nothing to let me know if the sheikh had even read my message. But surely he’d come? He had to. If not, and I fucking find out he had seen-zoned my message?
I took a deep breath.
Stop being paranoid, Teller.
The sheikh would come the moment he saw my message.
Or at the very least, he’d text or call—-
I nearly ended up face-diving the length of his expensive rug in my haste to reach my phone. Finally! I knew he’d never have seen-zoned me, and relief had me breathless when I finally managed to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Story? Is that you?”
I couldn’t answer, stunned to hear someone else’s voice coming from the other end of the line.
I gave myself a mental shake and cleared my throat. “Um. Sorry. I just…um…finished working out.”
“Is this a bad time then?”
“No, of course not.” But this was a lie obviously, and Johnny had to know this, too. After the numerous times Dahlia had made my life hell, anything that had to do with my twin would always be a bad time.
“Great. I mean, I’m glad you have time to talk.”
Johnny’s voice was one of the things I used to find most attractive about him. I used to love the way he talked, the way he sounded confident without being cocky, but…yeah, obviously my tastes had changed since then.
And come to think of it, he didn’t even sound confident at all right now. If anything, he sounded rather nervous. He had never sounded nervous when talking to me before, and I couldn’t help feeling a little sad at how quickly things had changed between us.
“So…you’ve probably guessed it already, but I’m calling because of Dahlia.”
“I see.” And I really did. Dahlia definitely had something up her sleeve again, and whatever it was, it likely involved me and shit hitting the fan.
“This is going to come as a surprise…”
Mm. All of a sudden, I thought about my own surprise, and realizing that I had yet to tell Dahlia about the sheikh cheered me up immensely. It was so going to fuck her up for good, once she found out how wonderfully her plan had backfired, and it was all thanks to her I had shacked up with a gorgeous, rich-as-fuck sheikh.
And oooh, once she found out that I was in love with him, and he was likely in love with me? The look on her face would be priceless and—-