Kimmie is back with part ten of "Dirty Little Secret!" I know you are as happy as I am to receive this new chapter. (After talking to Kimmie last night, I woke early in anticipation of finding it in my mailbox.) SexyPrime has received scads of emails the past two weeks while Kimmie took some time off to mourn the passing of her beloved dog Holly.
From one reader: "I love your Kimmie author. Her latest story describes my now husband and I know that might be gross to some, but God he is GOOD! Thanks for your blog."
You are welcome, from Kimmie and me. And now, here she is--
Dirty LIttle Secret, part ten
The next day, as much as she wanted to tell her friends that she had had the most amazing sex of her life, she didn’t.
There was absolutely no doubt that the next question would immediately be, “Who is it?” followed quickly by, “What does he look like?” and those were answers she definitely wanted to leave alone. “A random hairy fat man,” just wasn’t a socially acceptable answer, although it was the very real truth. A random hairy fat man had done things to her that she had never even known existed, things that now made her realize that the great sex she’d had up to then, though good, hadn’t been great. He did things to her that still had her smiling and shaking her head at the thought of it.
And she wanted more. She was a junkie, instantly hooked. She would have been scared to think that she might never feel that good again, except she was already planning on when to see him next. She didn’t want it to be too soon. That would give him all the power. She would hold back, stay cool and control herself. She smiled. She could do this. Her entire midsection was happily tender, but when her stray thoughts settled on his fingers inside of her, she knew her body was ready to go again as soon as her brain released her.
She called him that night.
He chuckled as he answered the phone, making her blush. She was glad they were miles apart so he couldn’t see it. She made herself stay light and casual, asking about his day, talking about a few of their friends, telling him some silly story. She chattered on, not even sure what was coming out of her mouth, but knowing she had to keep talking.
He didn’t say a word. The conversation stalled, and he let it. It was quiet. She struggled into the silence for a moment, fighting the words on the tip of her tongue. She wanted him to fill the void so badly, to keep her from blurting the only real thought on her mind. Say something, she mentally pleaded into the quiet, but he wasn’t letting her off so easily. Damn him, she thought desperately. Don’t make me do this! But before that thought was entirely formed, she heard her own false overly-casual voice – “So… what are you up to tonight?”
He chuckled again, and she was busted. She felt her face get hot. She was so transparent! She wasn’t fooling him with her happy little social call. He’d known the instant he saw her number on his phone what was going on in her head. He knew what she wanted. She covered her face, embarrassed even sitting there by herself. She was an awkward teen all over again, trying to be suave and failing miserably.
And yet, even in her misery, she felt the blood start to rush to a certain little place between her legs. She clamped her hand down over her crotch and rocked forward, trying to tell her shut up. She knew he was going to make her ask to come over; he wouldn’t make it easy on her and offer himself. She shook her head, trying to negate the heat rising in her body. He was so frustrating. So contrary and maddening! And yet, she heard herself clearly ask him if he wanted company later. And just as clearly, she felt her body sing happily as he chuckled and told her she could come over.
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