Ginger Picks Up the Pace

She was down by my cock now, and she started sucking me.

Having her that night was the best so far. She felt wetter, sloppier, than ever. She was passionate, and it felt like we were both desperate to please each other.

After we'd finished and collapsed, I asked what was up with us getting the room.

"Oh shit...that's right. You looked pissed, baby. I'm sorry...but he's local, wasn't staying here. But we'd hit it off pretty good and by the time I asked about him staying here, I was already sure I wanted him. I played like I was staying here instead."

I told her that I had been a little annoyed, not so much pissed. She disagreed, said she could tell I'd been pissed. Whatever. Then I told her about how what she'd done reminded me of the joke and I'd lightened up. She laughed hard, it took a good minute for her to stop. She likes that joke too. When she finished laughing, she pounced on me and kissed me again. Pulling away, she was smiling and looked more beautiful than ever. She shook her head, patted my chest. "How did I ever get you?" she asked.

"I ask myself the same about you every day, Gin."

We spent the night there, although it meant putting on our same clothes in the morning and heading out in a disheveled mess. She woke me once at about 4 and again as the sun broke through the slot in the curtain.

I replayed that night for weeks. It was really something else. It also led to something else...an idea in Ginger's head that would take our relationship to a whole new place.