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Authors: Brandie Buckwine
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appearance one last time, and went back to the studio in search of his burger and fries.
Chapter Seven
Faith clicked the TV remote ‘off’ when the last of the credits rolled down the screen. The PBS documentary on Counting Crows was much like what she envisioned for her own documentary for Utopian Society. The last week in the studio sealed their fates— Eric was a man possessed as they cranked out the last three songs for the release. For all his sins of vanity and self-importance, this week, he finally earned the right to own those sins. Oddly, he showed more humility with his recent accomplishments than pride, almost as though he had little to do with it, even though they all watched in awe as he created and lifted the others to a level far above their norm.
Lightning flashed in the distance as she filled the coffee decanter for the next morning. A streak of lightning followed shortly by a low, rumbling sound of thunder made it clear— there was another storm coming. With the coffee maker set for six A.M., Faith checked the thermostat, turned off all but the hallway bath light, and went to bed.
Sleep was hard to find. Her mind replayed the events of the week and her own role in it.
Eric’s songs played in her head, background music to her fantasy of him taking her, taking her like a hungry savage, ripping her clothes off and hoisting her onto the soundboard to plunge into her over and over until she screamed in ecstasy. A sudden noise made her eyes fly open. The central air kicked in and lightning flashed through the window. She closed her eyes again, trying to pick up where she left off, screaming her brains out while Eric slammed into her, even as the knobs of the soundboard bit into her ass.
The air in the room changed as Faith pulled her toy from the drawer of the bedside table and rolled to her back. She froze, vibrator in hand, when she saw his silhouette against the semi-darkness at the end of her bed.
Her breath hitched when he asked, “Can I help you with that?” It didn’t occur to ask how he got in —it didn’t matter— he was here and she was electrified. From his position, he eased the sheet away from her. The slow, sensual retreat of the sheet felt like his hands caressing her skin; her nipples reveled in sensation when the hem of the cover scraped across them. When it was gone, he knelt on the bed and slowly slid his hands up her thighs, spreading her legs as he went.
“Mmmm,” she tried to stifle her moan. Did he know how close she already was to coming? Her hand and vibrator fell to her side as tongue met pussy. Fingers probed inside her as he stabbed at her clit and pulled it between his lips. It took less than a minute of hard sucking, lapping, and finger pounding, and she was crying out her release.
Eric sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. “So, let me see your friend,” he said, as he tossed the shirt to the floor.
She didn’t know what he was talking about until he reached across and pulled the forgotten vibrator from her hand. He studied the object carefully, feeling its shape by sliding his fingers down and around it, smelling it, pushing the buttons that made it whir to life. “Is this supposed to be me?” he asked as he silenced the device and rubbed it against her cheek.
“Mm hmm.” Faith didn’t trust her voice to answer. Even her mumbled response shook with excitement.
He brought it to her lips. “Lick it.” She did. She licked the realistic phallus around its head while Eric leaned down to suck her nipple into his mouth, watching her tongue work. He never took his eyes off it as he eased the soft, plastic cock between her lips. His breath hissed through his teeth, as though it was his own penis entering her mouth. The cool air he pulled into his lungs swirled around the bud he held in his mouth, and she moaned as he pushed the toy deeper.
“Ooh. I think he’s ready.” He pulled it from her mouth and gave her nipple a kiss goodbye before
Chapter Seven
Faith clicked the TV remote ‘off’ when the last of the credits rolled down the screen. The PBS documentary on Counting Crows was much like what she envisioned for her own documentary for Utopian Society. The last week in the studio sealed their fates— Eric was a man possessed as they cranked out the last three songs for the release. For all his sins of vanity and self-importance, this week, he finally earned the right to own those sins. Oddly, he showed more humility with his recent accomplishments than pride, almost as though he had little to do with it, even though they all watched in awe as he created and lifted the others to a level far above their norm.
Lightning flashed in the distance as she filled the coffee decanter for the next morning. A streak of lightning followed shortly by a low, rumbling sound of thunder made it clear— there was another storm coming. With the coffee maker set for six A.M., Faith checked the thermostat, turned off all but the hallway bath light, and went to bed.
Sleep was hard to find. Her mind replayed the events of the week and her own role in it.
Eric’s songs played in her head, background music to her fantasy of him taking her, taking her like a hungry savage, ripping her clothes off and hoisting her onto the soundboard to plunge into her over and over until she screamed in ecstasy. A sudden noise made her eyes fly open. The central air kicked in and lightning flashed through the window. She closed her eyes again, trying to pick up where she left off, screaming her brains out while Eric slammed into her, even as the knobs of the soundboard bit into her ass.
The air in the room changed as Faith pulled her toy from the drawer of the bedside table and rolled to her back. She froze, vibrator in hand, when she saw his silhouette against the semi-darkness at the end of her bed.
Her breath hitched when he asked, “Can I help you with that?” It didn’t occur to ask how he got in —it didn’t matter— he was here and she was electrified. From his position, he eased the sheet away from her. The slow, sensual retreat of the sheet felt like his hands caressing her skin; her nipples reveled in sensation when the hem of the cover scraped across them. When it was gone, he knelt on the bed and slowly slid his hands up her thighs, spreading her legs as he went.
“Mmmm,” she tried to stifle her moan. Did he know how close she already was to coming? Her hand and vibrator fell to her side as tongue met pussy. Fingers probed inside her as he stabbed at her clit and pulled it between his lips. It took less than a minute of hard sucking, lapping, and finger pounding, and she was crying out her release.
Eric sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. “So, let me see your friend,” he said, as he tossed the shirt to the floor.
She didn’t know what he was talking about until he reached across and pulled the forgotten vibrator from her hand. He studied the object carefully, feeling its shape by sliding his fingers down and around it, smelling it, pushing the buttons that made it whir to life. “Is this supposed to be me?” he asked as he silenced the device and rubbed it against her cheek.
“Mm hmm.” Faith didn’t trust her voice to answer. Even her mumbled response shook with excitement.
He brought it to her lips. “Lick it.” She did. She licked the realistic phallus around its head while Eric leaned down to suck her nipple into his mouth, watching her tongue work. He never took his eyes off it as he eased the soft, plastic cock between her lips. His breath hissed through his teeth, as though it was his own penis entering her mouth. The cool air he pulled into his lungs swirled around the bud he held in his mouth, and she moaned as he pushed the toy deeper.
“Ooh. I think he’s ready.” He pulled it from her mouth and gave her nipple a kiss goodbye before
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