Might as Well Face It, You’re Addicted to Fucking…
After marathon sex and encore sex Sunday afternoon, I made a spinach pizza for dinner, using fresh spinach from my garden.
"What’s for dessert, darlin’?" Wes asks, grinning mischievously when he finishes.
I never makes dessert because I don’t eat sugar, so I know he’s up to something.
"Feel like going for a ride?" he continues, still grinning.
I laugh, because this means he wants to go out for a milkshake or a banana split. Once a sugar boy, always a sugar boy. LOL
"Sure," I reply. "Sounds like fun."
When I clear the dishes, I dash upstairs to change and grab the tiny backpack I use as a purse. Then I dash back down the stairs. "Okay, I’m ready," I announce.
Wes stops with his hand on the front door knob and slowly looks me up and down. "You’re going like that?"
I’ve got on a black lace cami so sheer you can see my nipples poking through the fabric, low riding jeans, and boots. "Yeah," I reply.
Wes frowns. "You can wear that out? It looks obscene."
"Nah," I reply, scurrying outside when he opens the door. "It’s fine."
After he stops for a vanilla milkshake, we go for a drive. It’s a beautiful, warm, sunny evening in Columbia. Best of all one of the radio stations is playing all the pop hits from the 80s. Love that era!
When "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer comes on, I crank up the volume and start dancing in my seat. Oh, how I love to dance and shake my ass! Can’t do much in a car, but I can wiggle a little and move my arms and shoulders to the beat of the music. Talk about a GREAT dance tune. Love that song!
Wes just looks at me and laughs. "That’s you, darlin’. Addicted to love."
"More like addicted to lovin’," I tease, still grooving on the afterglow of all the great sex we had a few hours ago. "Or better yet, addicted to fucking."
When we stop at a red light, Wes turns toward me, sweeping my body with a hot gaze, zeroing in on my perky nipples bouncing around in that black lace cami as I dance in the seat.
He winks at me and starts singing along with Robert Palmer. Kinda. "Might as well face it, you’re addicted to fucking. Might as well face it, you’re addicted to fucking. Might as well face it, you’re addicted to fucking…."
Hey, ain’t that the truth?! *lusty grin*
xoxo
Laura Stamps (c)
Author of Erotica and Paranormal Romance Novels
http://www.LauraStamps.blogspot.com (excerpts from all of my novels)
http://laura-stamps8.livejournal.com (my naughty Author Blog/updated daily)
Laura Stamps (c)
Author of Erotica and Paranormal Romance Novels
http://www.LauraStamps.blogspot.com (excerpts from all of my novels)
http://laura-stamps8.livejournal.com (my naughty Author Blog/updated daily)
Tags: relationships
This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 6th, 2009 at 7:11 am and is filed under Naughty Notes, Sex. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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