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A girl like her should wear… Nothing. A girl like her should wear absolutely nothing, and she should spend her nights on her back with her thighs spread, her hands pinned, and her body heaving… underneath mine—where no one else can ever lay eyes on her.
My dick reacts, knowing exactly how her lips would’ve parted while she breathed out my name.
“Dammit, Butterfly.”
She’s so fucking thick. And soft. And beautiful. And the spark behind her eyes is so trusting and healthy and…
I’m Cassie, your new neighbor. And since my brain could come up with nothing better to say, I replied with Hans. Just that. Just my name. And then she repeated it back. Just as simple. Just once. Hans. And I haven’t fucked anyone since.
The curvy little vixen who just turned thirty, twelve days ago—making her nine years my junior and too young for me—and has been doing her best to kill me with food poisoning through her little deliveries.
Hans. Hans, the Scandinavian fantasy I didn’t know I had. Please, pretty please, swing me up over your shoulder and carry me off to your bedroom. We can pretend it’s a Viking encampment. You’re the main warrior dude, and I’m the princess you just stole from your enemy to claim as your own…
For someone who bakes so much, Cassandra is not getting any better.
Heheh it's funny cuz I bake!
No matter how awful the creation is, she always makes them look appealing in the photo, but since she’s gifted me a container of every item she’s ever blogged about, I know the photos lie. I don’t want to eat the rest. But I have to.
My stomach protests at the last bite, but I can’t waste it. It doesn’t matter how bad her creations are, my deep-seated need to consume every bit of Cassandra won’t let me throw them away. And my tastebuds won’t let me go through this torture twice.
Leaning down, I carefully stick the newest Post-it on top of the last one, adding it to my little stack of yellow paper squares. One for every delivery from the girl next door.
“Why have a deadbolt, Butterfly, if you’re not gonna use it?”
I close my eyes and pretend. Just for two seconds, I pretend she’s here with me.
“Did you seriously fall a-fucking-sleep in Cassandra’s house?”
This is my most used selection. And it’s a selection. Handguns, knives of varying lengths, a grenade… the usual.
I want to finish that dream. And let Hans finish me.
The wiggling. And shaking. And bouncing… It’s too much.
This woman is too fucking much.
And when she finally yanks the item free and mail falls to the ground around her, she final...
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Releasing the doorknob, I move back into the kitchen and watch her sexy ass walk back up her driveway and into her house. After I sleep, I’ll replay her walk on my security feed. For research purposes.
I believe Cassandra learned her love for food from her mom. But, and I’ll take this to my grave, her mother’s food is delicious rather than barely edible, so I nod.
“Good girl.” Lips press against the side of my neck just as his free hand reaches around the front of my body to cup my sex.
“Fuck, Butterfly. You’ve soaked through your pristine little panties. I should probably take them off.”
“Do you get it now?” I growl as her perfect body bounces beneath me. “You’re all I see, Cassandra.” She rolls her hips to meet mine. “The only fucking woman I want.”
