小暑 [10] / [11]
There was sarcasm in her tone. He said nothing. He didn't even feel any urgency to excuse his behavior to her. She sighed as Alexander said nothing.
"I know what you are about to do. But there will be nothing you can find out."
"What do you mean by that?"
he asked.
"Aren't you going to check that damn CCTV? There's nothing there."
"How'd you figure that out?"
"It's the way I used to pass through on my way home. There's nothing. Nothing. There's nothing you can do. That only enhances my despair."
Violet covered her face with both palms, and began to cry.
‘I'm going to check out the CCTV there by myself, so, just tell me the goddamn place!'
This sentence almost rose to his throat, but he swallowed it with great effort. He left her in the room, and went outside. Violet’s crying vaguely came into earshot.
He had an amazing dream. Cynthia was lying behind him, her tits pressing against his back, as she stroked his hard, throbbing cock. They were at the beach, no one was around, and she continued to rub him up and down, kissing the back of his neck. Then, something happened. The beach fell away, and he was slowly roused to consciousness.
As he awoke, and the dream faded, the hand stroking his hard penis hadn't stopped. He could feel naked breasts against his back, and hot breath against his neck. For a moment, his mind thought, Cynthia? Then realization dawned. It wasn't Cynthia, it was . . .
"Shh,"
Violet's soothing voice whispered into his ear, as she gave it a nibble, her hand gently pressing his balls ever so slightly as she stroked downward, then upward again.
"Just relax."
"No, stop," Alexander pleaded,
"Don't do this."
He moaned slightly as her other hand moved down, gently squeezing his balls. He loved that. He laid back, trying to shift his positioning, and she took advantage of this, position herself between his legs, his cock still in her right hand. And she looked at him hungrily. He could've stopped her then. But he was paralyzed by desire. Before he knew it, she wrapped her lips around the head of his tool, and gently sucked while her tongue went around and around the tip.
The more her lips massaged him, the more his body rocked with excitement, like lightning. He knew he should've stopped her, but couldn’t. It felt like her desperate desire suppressed him from above. Tiredness, hatred, revulsion, pity, and a guilty conscience mingled together in him. When she removed her mouth from his penis, he drew back from her.