A Million Dirty Secrets

Ten minutes to purchase her. One hour to get her lips wrapped around my cock. Three days to taste her juices. Four days to pop her cherry. Two weeks to lose my fucking mind. Shit.

He was beautiful— a perfect specimen of a predator able to lure its prey by his appearance alone.

I’d hoped taking her virginity in midclimax would make it easier, but I couldn’t tell if it actually had. I mean, I had mirrors. I knew how big my cock was.

This is my pussy, Delaine. My fingers were the first to touch it, my mouth the first to taste it, and my cock will always be the first to fuck it.

I was a slave to it, which was ironic since she was supposed to be my slave. She played her part well, make no mistake, but that little pussy of hers owned me. And I didn’t mind one motherfucking bit.

She was going to be mega-pissed. For me, that translated into another epic sexcapade. Ding, ding, ding, ding. Triple whammy.

I realized how truly inexperienced and foolish I really was, a small-town girl attempting to play in the major leagues with a man who was larger than life itself.

When Noah Crawford wanted something, you couldn’t bat a lash around him or you were going to miss seeing how he got it. Not that I was complaining or anything.

I suppose if I look on the bright side of things, this means that I can train you to do things the way I like them. But right now, I have a hard-on the size of Texas and I'm not exactly thrilled about it.

It wasn't like I'd kissed a lot of guys or was some sort of expert, but the things that man could do with his tongue…

Ten minutes to purchase her. One hour to get her lips wrapped around my cock. Three days to taste her juices. Four days to pop her cherry. Two weeks to lose my fucking mind. Shit. Just over two weeks. Fifteen goddamn days.