Page 95 of The Fed Sex Man

My head spun. The ensuing orgasm was mind-blowing.

I looked around the room and blinked a few times, not quite certain of what had happened. Upon regaining my wits, I collapsed onto my back.

She came to rest beside me. After catching her breath, she rolled to her side.

Her eyes thinned a little. “What was that intellectual vacation spot crap about?”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “An idea I had. Getting to know each other while we fucked.”

“Can we keep the intellectual stuff confined to the dinner table?” she asked. “If we’re going to talk in the bedroom. I prefer the dirty stuff.”

Calling her a sexy bitch was a risk. I was pleased she enjoyed it. “Intellectual talk in the kitchen, dirty talk in the bedroom. Got it.”

“Good.” She gestured toward the door with her eyes. “Cold lasagna? I’m starving.”

“Cold lasagna and a little intellectual conversation.” I sat up. “Sounds good.”

“Save the intellect for tomorrow.” She twisted her hair into a messy bun and reached for her glasses. “I’m kind of vacant upstairs right now.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think you might have fucked my brains out.”

“I’m kind of vacant up there too,” I admitted. “You did a number on me.”

Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “By the time this night’s over, you’re not even going to remember how to tie your shoes.”