Page 20 of Baker

His hips slapped hard against my ass. “What’s your fucking name, anyway?”

I realized that in all the excitement, I hadn’t even introduced myself.

“Andy,” I gasped.

He pounded his full length into me three more times before he acknowledged my response.

“Baker,” he said with a laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

I chuckled to myself at the direction my life had taken. I had a new job, a handsome as hell neighbor, and I was having my brains fucked out by a man I didn’t know in a five thousand dollar a month apartment that was walking distance from the San Diego Bay.

It beat the hell out of being robbed at gunpoint, losing my job, and being unemployed, that was for sure.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed through the empty apartment. A dozen or so strokes later, I felt myself contract. No differently than when he sucked my pussy, I expected the climactic ending was going to make me appear to be mindless.

I opened my eyes and focused on the feeling of being stretched wider than I’d ever been. I felt his hand against my shoulder. Then, he lifted against it, causing me to arch my back. His warm breath against my neck sent a chill down my spine.

“Do it,” he breathed into my ear. “Do it, you sexy little bitch.”

It was all the authorization I needed.

I came with the force of a tsunami, clenching his cock like a vise as I reached climax. When the waves of pleasure ended, my legs gave out.

He caught me before I hit the floor.

“You’re out of shape,” he said. “Because we’re far from done.”

A sigh shot from my lungs. “Seriously?”

He simply smiled.

He fucked me two more times that day, again on the island, and once as we gazed out at the traffic.

When he finally came, it was all over my tits. I’d never viewed being plastered with cum as sexy, at least not until that afternoon.

When Baker did it, it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

It may have been the smile that he wore when he was standing in front of me with his cock in his hand. Or the fact that I’d never seen a man come so much. Maybe it was that he let me clean it up with his awesome guitar print socks. Regardless, my first day at work was the best day I’d had in a long, long time.

He pulled his jeans on and buckled his belt. “Craziest fucking thing I’ve ever done,” he said under his breath.

“Having sex with a stranger?” I asked.

“No.” He let out a long breath. “It’s not that.”

“What, then?”

“With me living next door to your office, I can’t decide if this was a good idea or a bad one.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I said. “I’m not one of those crazy women who’s going to knock on your door. If you want, you’ll never see me again.”

“That’s the problem.” He said. “I’m afraid I’m far from done fucking you.”

My life continued to get better and better. I smiled. “That’s okay, too.”

He chuckled a dry laugh. “If you say so.”

After he left, I fully expected to fill with regret, but it never came. Instead, I filled with pride, wearing our little sexual adventure like a crown.