For Authentication Purposes Read Online Free PDF Page A

certain ways, but never full-blown sex. Not the way it was with her.  
    I liked her enough. I liked that after our second date, she’d rubbed my zipper until I was so hard I had to pull over. I liked that she was so adamant about making me come after she popped the button on my jeans to give me an awkward blow job. I even liked that it both hurt and felt good at the same time. She worked harder than any of the other girls who had sucked me off at their houses after school while the TV was on so their parents couldn’t hear. And she swallowed, which added another point in my book because the last girl had always snuck out of the room to spit into the sink. I wasn’t offended, but after three months I figured she would have gotten over it.
    She didn’t.
    But Willow. I liked the way she wouldn’t wear panties to the movies and we’d sit in the back corner, the darkest seats in the house, so that she could slide her skirt up her dark tan thighs, let me reach between them and part her legs with my palms. She’d let me kiss her cheek, lick her neck, and slip my fingers into her until my wrist and knuckles hurt. Until she was breathing hard and shaking. But she never came. Not once.  
    I liked it when she would pull my dick out of my boxers during the movie trailers and squeeze my shaft, even when her hands were dry, because her mouth was warm, her tits were within reach, and, of course, we were in a public place and I had to finish in silence so we wouldn’t get caught.
    I liked the way she looked over her shoulder at me when I took her from behind. How she pressed her face into her pillow when it was too deep or too much. That she didn’t care when it was too fast or out of rhythm. And that she wanted it all the time. All the time. That’s not an exaggeration.  
    I liked her and all those things. But I didn’t love her.  
    Again, she never ever came. It’s not that I was worried about it all the time, but a guy wants that to happen, even if he won’t admit it. I mean, no one in their right mind would admit that.
    When the opportunity arose to escort Dawn to prom, I jumped at the chance. Dropped Willow like a bad habit. Rented an expensive white tux just to impress the girl with the stick up her ass.  
    The night did not go as planned. Maybe if it had, things would have been different for me. Maybe I wouldn’t know exactly how to help her with her shitty book. But I did. And I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to get her to say yes.
    I’d always thought she was too perfect for me, and then in an instant the entire perception that I’d had of her shattered. Dawn Sims of the Honor Roll Society, Thespian Society, squeaky clean good girl who didn’t even drink on prom night and never had detention in school was writing awful porn online and wanted to sell it for a living.
    Fuck.
    Me.
    Please.
    I don’t know that anyone else would ever understand the rush of excitement I’d experienced then. Her good girl image fell away from my eyes, and I saw a dirty, naughty, smut-writing horndog standing there in front of me. Clearly repressed, of course. But the potential was there.
    And dare I say? The thought of getting to defile her and bring her over to the other side was way too much for me to pass up. It was a dream come true. She and I weren’t so different after all.
    Well, we wouldn’t be after she calmed her tits, of course.
    Still. She agreed.  
    Fuck me, she agreed .  
    Well, actually, fuck her. And not in the angry way. Unless she liked it like that. It was obvious she didn’t even know what she liked. I thought of all the ways I could show her. All the things she could learn.
    “Make sure she comes first. Even if you do, don’t let her know. Don’t stop until she’s satisfied. Always make sure she’s satisfied.”
    The memory crept up on me, and I shivered, clutching the steering wheel tighter than before. I wasn’t going to think about that. I wanted to think about Dawn.
    She was going to want me.