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Chase curls up, coughing out a laugh. “What?”
“You know.” I drop my voice, purring out the word. “Pussy.”
“Pussy,” he repeats, as if he can’t believe what I’m saying.
“Yeah.” I lean in closer. “Smooth, wet pussy.”
His eyes track down my exposed back, over the sheet draped off my ass. The smirk on his face slowly fades, while the sheet around his waist starts to rise.
“Mmm… pussy.” I practically purr.
Chase licks his lips, and I bust out laughing.
“Wait. What? What’s so funny?”
I continue to laugh, face in my pillow, but jerk a thumb in the direction of the doorway.
Where Mike Hunt is currently sitting, leg up, giving his privates a bath.
“Ugh. Mikey. What the fuck, dude?” He grabs one of his many pillows and tosses it at his cat. “Show some decorum.”
I laugh until Chase rips away my pillow and smacks me in the ass with it. What follows is a kinky pillow fight between a man with morning breath and a raccoon-eyed woman, both naked and in full view of a wet, hairless pussy.
In the end, I added two more orgasms to my tally.
Not a bad way to start the day.
* * *
Chase
This morning rules.
Not even hairless Mike perving from the doorway while I was balls deep in Bell during morning nookie hour could dim this euphoric feeling.
The little man is eyeing me while we wait in the kitchen for Campbell. I’ve already fed the beast, but I probably owe the sad sack of skin a treat or two for being the precursor to a naked pillow fight.
I mean, come on. That’s one for the record books. Men fantasize about panty-clad co-ed pillow fights, but to actually be in one, with a hot-ass naked woman? I win, dude. I win.
“You ready?”
Speaking of male fantasies…
“What?” She looks down, running a hand down my Tom Ford white dress shirt that she’s wrapped around her body, held in place by one of my Louis Vuitton tan leather belts.
Being a descendant of luxury retail magnates, my clothes have always been fashionably on-point. But until this moment, they may as well have been rags.
And if I look too long at her gloriously exposed and freckled legs, capped off with those unique cowboy boots that are just so quintessentially Campbell, we will never leave this apartment. What little blood is still left in my big head is busy helping my mind conjure up sexy scenarios where those boots are propped up over my shoulders. That particular train of thought isn’t helping my “little” head situation.
“Chase?”
I snap my jaw shut and try to blink away the fantasies. “Yes?”
She tilts her head to the side, her hair falling over one shoulder. “Everything okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then why are you looking at the floor?” There’s a lilt in her voice, and I’d bet money it’s from amusement.
