Dragon's Throttle

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CHAPTER: TWELVE Morning… Glory! At Ten Nineteen and A Renewed Countdown Awakened by his tender touch, I heard, “Good morning, sugar-lips. I should mention, I love pussy for the most important meal of the day, as they say.” He was stroking my hair with a gleaming morning smile. “Oh, yes” I answered, “and that it is, a great morning, Bradley. I want to stay in, and by the way, breakfast is served,” smirking with delight, I reached in for wetness and fed him my fingers straight inside his mouth. “Mmm, I love it, you have a non-denying attitude, but promise to fight me off sometime. Later, you know, kick it up a notch. Are you always this bountiful and sweet tasting, mmm?” “I suppose... well... I really haven’t been fortunate in the relationship department to practice at liberty. The only man I’ve lived with was my college roommate and best friend, and although we never labeled it as boyfriend and girlfriend, he was definitely my fucking buddy,” I informed him, knowing the matter of Jasen headed seriously for a discussion at some point. Bradley tapped my mouth, “Hey, lil’ girl, watch your language, or I’ll have to plug your mouth with my cock!” “Heeeey! As if that wasn’t lewd?” We remained consumed with silly laughter. “Speaking of which, I should mention Jasen, the roommate I speak of, and—” Putting a finger softly to my lips, he whispered, “Shhh, I am not interested in hearing about your past.” “But, Bradley—” “But nothing. What matters is from here on, okay?” “Well... I suppose,” I said, apprehensively. “Suppose what? Are you still sleeping with this man?” “No, sir.” “Then enough said. This limited time is solely about us, let’s not ruin this by rehashing . . . understood?” “Yes, sir.” My intentions are to inform... ... middle of paper ... ...racter and his yummy lip-smacking manhood. * * * * “We are here, Clareese. Go on ahead. I’ll park. I’ll be back, and your butt best not leave without saying our temporary good-byes. Next time, I’ll introduce you to the art of the rope, and likely you won’t leave because you can’t,” he said, softly laughing. He was trying to intimidate me with an eerie tone jokingly, and I planted him a kiss and smiled still in awe. He assisted with my luggage. “I will see you in a bit, and, Bradley, being tied up, tied-down is playful banter among consensual adults. I am aware this in short has become more than that. There’s a lasso we can’t see with the naked eye, and it has me bound to you . . . for us.” He swallowed heavily, both apprehensive but we played it composed. Thereafter, we said our heartfelt good-byes with warming hugs and those incredibly sexy lingering kisses.

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