I AM LYING ON MY BED, COMPLETELY NAKED, MY vibrator in my hand.
I need to get off.
I could have returned Damon’s calls—he has left me three messages—but I know that fucking him again will only make me feel hollow. All I really want is the physical release, and a good one. Damon’s cock just won’t do it for me.
And for some reason, I want to be thinking about Rugged when I come. I’m not sure why.
Maybe it was that annoying footage they kept playing over and over again at the station, of Rugged and Randi at some party in Atlanta, that has him on my mind. The only thing I know for sure is that I’m naked and aroused, and I’m not going to deny indulging my thoughts of Rugged to get off.
As I’ve said, I didn’t dump him because of the sex.
I spread my legs. Stroke my clit. Take a deep breath.
I feel a little silly, and almost change my mind. Seriously, why am I doing this?
But then I remember Rugged’s tongue, which always got me off, and his impressive cock. I close my eyes and stroke my pussy again.
I conjure Rugged’s image, remembering the first time we fucked at his house in Buckhead. We were parked in his SUV, I was sucking his cock, excited about the fact that we were finally going to fuck. He’d been pursuing me, making his interest in me clear, and I was looking forward to taking him to bed.
We couldn’t get out of his vehicle and into the house fast enough.
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