Page 135 of Dirty Chorus

“Fuck I was almost there,” she pants out. She rolls her eyes as I release her legs and she uses her elbows to prop herself up and pick up the phone. “Hello.” It comes out breathy. She swallows her pants.

“Charlotte, what are you doing this morning?” I can hear her mother on the other end. “It’s been weeks! I’d love to see you!”

Damnit Charlie, you could have waited until we finished, and I’m so close too. Ahh fuck it. I push my length gently inside her, pumping. Oh god, does she feel so good gripping me. I just can’t help it. “Fuck, Noah!” she mouths silently to me.

“I want you,” I mouth back.

She doesn’t protest, her grey eyes glisten over, giving me approval. I thrust into her, and she bites her bottom lip trying not to make a sound. But I can see it in her eyes – this feels good.

“Just waking up,” she managed, her voice impressively steady even as she mouthed ‘oh my god’ soundlessly at me. I establish a slow, deep rhythm, beating back into her. Each thrust smacking against her perfect ass.

“Well, I was thinking of meeting up. Would you like to grab some breakfast down at the diner?”

“Oh...” Her head dipped back, a tremor running through her legs. Her free hand slaps the mute button. “Fuck, Noah, I’m gonna come,” her whisper was a ragged plea.

“Why did you fucking answer the phone?”

“Fuck... because... oh my god.” I hook my arms under her knees, spreading her wider, and change my angle, pushing into her with deeper, more focused thrusts, aiming for that spot I knew would unmake her.

“I want you to. Fucking. Come for me,” I growl – my own breath catching at the sight of her unraveling while trying to stay silent.

“I really miss seeing you, haven’t heard from you in awhile.” Her mom says as Charlie moans. Shit. I forgot she was talking.

Charlie fumbles, pressing the unmute button. “I can probably...” Her sentence ended in a choked gasp as I drove into her hard. She muted the phone again instantly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck... oooo...” A fine tremor takes hold of her entire body, her inner walls beginning their sweet, familiar convulsions around my shaft.

“Charlotte? Are you there?”

Somehow, through the haze of her rising orgasm, she finds the button. Her voice is strained and high pitched. “Give me an hour. I’ll meet you there. Love you, bye!” She ended the call and the phone clattered onto the sheets. “Fuck you,” she breathed, her head falling back onto the pillow. “Fuck, yes! Mmmm.” She pants as the climax she’d been fighting finally claims her. “Oh my god! Don’t stop. On my god! Fuck yes!” Her pussy clamps down on my swollen dick and her brittle pants and moans fill our room.

I kept my rhythm, riding out her climax with her. “Baby!” she cried out, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust. I fall to the crease of her neck and bite down gently as my own climax detonates, a blinding, searing rush that empties me into her clutching heat.

“Fuck, Charlie!” I pour inside her. Every ounce of fucking cum fills her. “You always feel so fucking good,” I groan against her skin, my voice ragged. “I love you.” My lips trail softly over the faint mark my teeth had left, peppering her neck with gentle kisses as my dick gives a few last, throbbing pulses inside her.

The sunlight is too bright in this little dinner, or it could be my salty attitude of exhaustion. But then again the sun reflects off every polished surface, silverware glinting, the white tablecloths burning my retinas. A plate of avocado toast is placed in front of me and I think I died and went to heaven. I’m already drooling. I run my tongue over my lips with that toast eyeballing me saying eat me.

Charlie’s mother watches me attack the toast like my life depends on it. The toast is way too crunchy. I can feel the edges scrape the inside of my mouth, and I’m pretty sure I look like every guy I promised I would never become – some pussy douchebag who thinks avocado toast is a personality trait.

I try to smile at her mother, which only makes me realize there’s probably green mush stuck in my teeth. I reach for my water and take a big drink, hoping to wash the humiliation down with it.

Charlie’s sitting across from me, her fork stabbing halfheartedly into her pancakes. Her mom holds her mug like she’s debating what she wants to say. When she finally speaks, her tone is gentle. “Have you thought about coming home?” She sips her coffee.

Charlie sets her fork down. “No. I’m going on tour with Noah.”

Her mother blinks slowly. “Honey, you haven’t finished college. You're barely in your second semester as a freshman. You could take your classes online from home. You don’t need to stay in those dorms, or his apartment. You’d be safe with me.”

Charlie’s jaw tightens. “I already signed up for online classes. I can do them while we travel.”

Then her mother turns her attention to me. “Living with a man you’re not married to isn't appropriate. I’m not an idiot.” Her eyes zero in on me.

“Stop looking at him like that.” Charlie defends and I’m silent. I’d pitch in, but that’s not my place. Instead I pick up my glass of water, my tongue playing with the straw to gather it up in my mouth.

“He’s covered head to toe with ink.”

“Just because he has tattoos doesn’t make him any less of a person.”

“At least tell me you're using protection?”

I choke on my water so hard I nearly die in front of them. Charlie thumps my back while I cough on those words that came out of her mothers mouth. Shit. We don’t use protection, and we haven’t and I guess I would’ve assumed Charlie was on birth control, but that hasn’t really been a conversation between us.