CHAPTER 9
Walsh
I can’t remember the last time I woke up with a woman in my bed. Of course, women have stayed over since Renee and I divorced three years ago after just one year of marriage as I don’t use The Wicked Horse exclusively for my needs. I’ve brought women up here before, fucked them, and fallen asleep. I’ve got nothing against cuddling, and I certainly like the benefits of having a warm pussy to slide into first thing in the morning.
But Jorie’s soft body spooned against mine isn’t like anything I’ve felt before. I not only know her body intimately after all we did last night, but I also know her intimately. More intimately than I’ve ever known a woman, and it makes all the difference in the world waking up to her beside me.
Jorie’s twenty-eight, and I was eight when she was born. I’ve known her a long fucking time, and I’d be a liar to deny I care about her. But having a relationship with her isn’t doable in my opinion. First, I’ve no desire to get married again. Don’t really want kids. Those are things women want for the most part, and I could never offer that to her.
But more importantly, Micah won’t accept it. He’ll view it as wrong as I do, given our almost-familial ties. I know this because Micah got a hint of my feelings about Jorie once when I was drunk, and he went berserk. He made no bones about the fact she was off limits to me because Micah viewed me as his brother, and he also viewed me as Jorie’s brother, too. The fuck of it is, Jorie’s right… I do find the whole forbidden little sister angle dirty and taboo. I’m going straight to hell, but that makes it more exciting.
Keeping it hidden from Micah won’t make it exciting, though. It’s dangerous and a serious blow to the loyalty and trust he has in me.
Even knowing all this, it didn’t stop me from having her repeatedly last night.
Doesn’t stop me from wanting her right now as evidenced by the extreme morning wood I’ve got going on planted right in the crease of her ass cheeks. The thought of popping her anal cherry makes me go even harder. Last night, I’d learned she’d never done that, so I made it my mission to introduce her ass to my tongue and fingers so she’d start to get used to it.
Christ, I’ve got to stop thinking in terms of fucking her again. This should be it. The end. Done. Move on. Don’t look back.
If we can do that, Micah will stay in the dark and I’ll eventually get over this guilt.
Jorie starts to wake, pressing back into me, wiggling her ass a little as she gives a tiny yawn. My hand, which had been resting on her hip, digs down into her flesh to hold her still.
She gives a sexy little laugh and wiggles again. Her voice is raw and husky as she says, “Good morning to you, too.”
I need to shut this down. Get her out of here.
Giving her hip a tiny pat, I say casually, “I’ll fix you breakfast, then you can be on your way.”
“Oh, Walsh,” Jorie says with slight exasperation. Her hand takes mine from her hip and drags it down in between her legs. “There’s only one thing I’m hungry for right now.”
Christ. I can’t say no to this, not when my fingers dip inside of her, coaxing her to slippery arousal. She moans and circles her hips, causing my cock to slip down in between her legs.
One last time, then it’s done.
Jorie groans as I start to circle her clit with her own moisture. Her head presses back into my shoulder, her pelvis flexing and tilting, which drags the length of my cock through her pussy lips. She’s slippery as fuck already and I start to thrust against her slowly, doing nothing more than coating my hard shaft with her juices.
Taking my hand away from her clit, Jorie slides it up to her breast so I can pinch at her nipple. I learned last night that she likes the rough handling, and they’ve got to be sore as fuck today. Still, she moans harder as I twist one and her hips buck backward in a silent plea for me.
I thrust faster in between her legs, still doing nothing more than running myself through her pussy lips. I bet I could get off this way.
I’m so lost to the sensation it takes me a moment to realize Jorie’s got her hand between her legs, meeting the tip of my cock when it pushes through from behind. She tilts her hips, trying to push it inside of her.
“Jorie,” I chastise her roughly. “Let me get a condom.”
“No,” she says, and just the thought that she wants me inside of her causes my hips to tilt at an angle that will let me thrust upward if I so choose.
But I stop in place, my cock practically pulsing with the need to sink in.
“Birth control?” I ask.
She rotates her hips, trying to drag me in, and gives a little grunt of frustration before she gasps. “Pill.”
Fuck. I thrust hard upward and sink right into her slippery channel. She cries out and her muscles tighten all around me, and Jesus… I need to come like right now.
I roll and shove Jorie onto her stomach, and she gasps when I haul her up to her hands and knees, my cock still planted in deep from behind.
Fucking amazing.
My bare cock being squeezed by Jorie’s warm cunt has got to be the best thing in forever.
I start fucking her roughly, my balls swinging to slap at her pussy so hard they hurt. But I don’t care. Her ass jiggles as it slaps against my pelvis, and Jorie’s moaning urges me on harder. My hands grip tight to her hips, and she rocks against me as her back arches from the pleasure.
“I won’t ever fucking get enough of this,” I admit foolishly through gritted teeth, and I know Jorie will never let that go. She’ll hold that against me later.
My only hope is she’s so lost in the throes of passion that she didn’t hear it.
An orgasm starts to brew, causing my balls to contract. My ass muscles are cramping from how fast and hard I’m fucking Jorie, and she’s practically sobbing beneath me in pleasure. It’s only when she screams and starts to shake with her own release that I give into it, slamming in hard and releasing my all into her.
“God, Jorie… fuck,” I mutter as I grind against her ass.
I haven’t come in a woman in a long time. Not since Renee, but I don’t remember it being this good. I don’t remember it feeling so satisfying knowing that a woman’s pussy is filled with my cum. I feel like I’ve marked Jorie in some way, and I’m afraid that means I’m not kicking her out of my bed anytime soon.
♦
“I’ll take some breakfast now,” Jorie says from underneath me. I’d collapsed there moments after coming so hard I saw lights flickering under my eyelids, but I’d been holding most of my weight off her.
“In a little bit,” I groan as I roll off her and come to rest on my side.
She stays on her stomach and merely twists her head to look at me. “I’m starving.”
“I’m broken,” I mutter. “Give a man time to recuperate.”
And then Jorie grins at me, her lush lips completely devoid of that bright red lipstick, yet she has mascara smeared under her eyes. Her hair is all tangled with what looks like a bird’s nest on one side of her head. She looks like a sexy siren who has been fucking all night, and yet she looks just like the Jorie I’ve always known.
“Will you tell me now?” she asks softly.
“Tell you what?”
“When was the first time you had a dirty thought about me?”
I stare at her a moment, recalling the memory as clear as day. While my dick is indeed a little broken right now, the thought of fifteen-year-old Jorie in a bathing suit still causes lust to stir within me.
“I was home visiting my parents for a weekend.” She lifts to her elbows, head still tilted my way as she listens. “I could see you in the backyard sunbathing.”
“You mean burning,” she says.
Chuckling, I tell her, “You hadn’t been out there long. All that pale skin and a bikini with your tits barely held in there.”
To my surprise, Jorie’s cheeks turn a little pink, but she fearlessly asks, “What else?”
“I wondered what your pussy tasted like.” Her cheeks deepen from pink to red. “Then I went and took a shower and jacked off thinking about it.”
“How old was I?” she whispers.
“Fifteen,” I admit with a small pang of guilt hitting me in the middle of my chest. “But not again after what happened in that hotel suite that night.”
She nods, her eyes going super soft with what I’d call hero worship. I know she thinks I saved her, but all I did was get her to the hospital.
And exact revenge.
“Want to know the first time I crushed on you?” she asks me mischievously.
“Does it involve details of you masturbating to thoughts of me?” I ask wickedly.
“Eww,” she says while wrinkling her nose. “I said crush, not masturbate. I was ten.”
My brows furrow as I try to think back that far. “What happened when you were ten?”
“I know you probably don’t remember it,” Jorie says as she goes to her side to face me in the bed. Curling her arm under a pillow, she says, “Your parents were out of town and you threw a party. And I snuck over to watch through the living room window. My dad was out of town on a business trip and the nanny was sound asleep.”
A niggling memory starts to surface, but I don’t try to dig for it, preferring to let Jorie tell me the story.
“And a group of people were outside smoking a joint—a few guys and girls—and they found me there. They started messing around with me, offering me a hit. I got scared and decided to go back home, but one of the girls grabbed my wrist and tried to push the joint in my face.”
I remember it as clear as day now, continuing with the memory. “And I came out, saw it, and went apeshit.”
She nods with a smile. “I’ve never seen you so mad. You were cursing and yelling at them, and the entire time, you held my hand in yours. Ran them right off your property.”
Man, was I pissed. Especially because the girl trying to make Jorie take a hit off that joint was some chick I’d been fucking. Can’t even remember her name now.
“That was your first crush, huh?”
“My first, but not my last,” she says impishly. “I moved on from you when Tony Greco pushed Sean Harp down on the playground when he tried to lift my dress up.”
I bring my hand to my chest. “I’m wounded.”
Giggling, Jorie wiggles a little closer to me and puts her hand on my hip where she strokes it lightly. “I was a little older when I started my dirty thoughts.”
“I’m not sure we’ll make it to breakfast if you tell me about it,” I warn her. “But lay it on me.”
“No way,” Jorie says as she pops up to an elbow. Can’t help it… my eyes go to her tits as they jiggle a little bit. Her nipples are redder than normal, and there’s a bite mark on the side of her breast just below her scar. The tantalizing sight is impeded as she snaps her fingers in front of my eyes, and I blink. “Eyes up here, buddy.”
I grin at her as I do as she asks.
“I’m hungry. Feed me.”
“Fine,” I say with a last, lingering look at her breasts. “But don’t get dressed. You’re not leaving after.”
Her beaming smile at me isn’t filled with just happiness over my demand, but also triumph. She knew before I did she wasn’t leaving today.