Page 39 of Making Over Maris

Her hand stole between her legs. She stroked herself through her casual slacks. Glanced at the clock. Did she have time?

Probably.

Without any hesitation she yanked off her pants, pulled down her panties and flopped on the bed, reaching in the drawer for her vibrator. She lounged back on the pillows and tried to pull out her go-to fantasies—but she could only think of Jack.

So she thought of Jack, as she’d done last night when she finished what he’d started, taking out her frustrations in the hard, hot thrusts of her trusty Cuminator.

Her slit was already wet, creamy. Her clit was engorged. She circled it teasingly, rubbing at the tip of the nub. As she teased herself with feather light strokes, she toyed with her nipples. One then the other. All the while imagining it was Jack. Touching her.

Passion blossomed.

Before long she was panting and squirming on the bed. She fumbled for the vibrator and groaned as she eased it in.

Yes. Ah, yes!

His cock was so big. So firm.

She pumped it a couple times, thrilling at the sensation rocketing through her as the toy hit one tender bundle of nerves and then another.

Her orgasm crept closer.

In a panic, she switched angles so she could thrust faster.

Alternating her attention, she pinched her nipples and rubbed her throbbing clit as tension rose and rose. God, she wished she had more hands.

Climax hovered just out of range. Frustrated, she shoved the vibrator in and turned it on then closed her legs to hold it in—and went to work on her nipples and clit.

She hissed through her teeth as pleasure thrummed through her. Damn. She should have bought the more expensive model with higher speeds. Something inside her sparked. She rolled a sensitive nipple and a shock wave rippled down her body. She slapped her clit and rubbed it madly.

So close. So close. Almost. Almost there—

The doorbell rang.

Oh God no.

He was here. He was here and she was naked from the waist down with a vibrator jammed into her hoo-hah, this close to the orgasm of a lifetime.

Fuck!

No. She could make it. She could…

But no matter what she tried, she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Damn.

The doorbell rang again and Sara yanked the vibrator out. It exited with a wet plop. She glared at it—swore that on Monday she’d go back to that adult toy store in West Hollywood and buy a more reliable model—and tossed it onto the bed. She’d have to clean it later.

Muttering to herself, she pulled on her panties and stepped into her slacks and sprinted for the door.

Every step was agony because her clit was pinging and her body was still clenching in pre-come shivers. Her bra sawed at her tender nipples. She hoped to God she was presentable.

She opened the door and…God.

The man of her dreams, of her recent fantasies at any rate, stood there, so unbelievably handsome and yummy and holding a box of chocolates.

Chocolates.

She almost came right then and there.