I never slow down.

My voice is raspy as I call out to her, “Spencer.”

Her arms reach out in frenzy, one grabbing my waist pulling me harder against her and the other palming my breast.

Her eyes open and she stares at me with her darkened blue eyes.

I capture her lips with mine moments before she tears them away biting hard on my bottom lip as she moans out her release. "Fuck, Ashley!"

—–

I’m jolted awake and catch myself before I fall out of bed and onto my face.

"Oh fuck me." I groan and look at the red numbers shining too brightly beside my bed.

3:28 A.M.

I’m actually home for a change and I can’t fucking sleep!!!

Why you ask?

Spencer ‘Preacher’s Kid’ Carlin.

Yes, I know her name.

Once I realized she was in the choir it wasn’t hard to figure out whose daughter she was.

She was the exact replica of the Preacher’s wife but with slightly longer blonde hair and a killer pristine smile.

I’ve had exactly one incident with her and my mind is replaying it over and over

But with extended x-rated scenes.

Naked Spencer.

Wet Spencer.

Whipped cream covered Spencer.

I’ve taken her in so many ways in my head that I can’t even think straight anymore.

Stop the fucking madness!

It’s making me crazy and by crazy I mean horny.

4:09 A.M.

I’m still awake.

I’ve gone to pee

Made a snack

Tried to watch TV

And listening to music

Spencer is still on my mind.

Why?

I don’t even know this girl.

‘But she’s unbelievably hot.’

I smirk at my inner thoughts as they drift to sneaking a peak at her ass as she bent over the other day.

4:12 A.M.

Only three minutes later and by now I’ve decided to try going back to sleep no matter what.

4:22 A.M.

Ten minutes later.

I’m still awake and unconsciously running my hands over my belly button ring.

Just thinking.

About Spencer.

By now my thoughts have turned NC17.

I’m picturing her in her choir robe

Naked underneath

And a pair of black heels doing a sexy strip tease at the edge of my bed.

Mmmm

I close my eyes as my hands travel lower down my body and ghost over my damp boxers.

I bite my lip and as I open my eyes

Moving my hand back up my body

I try talking myself out of masturbating to the thought of the Preachers daughter.

5:01 A.M.

Yawn

My mind is arguing with itself and after a while I end up falling asleep with my hand at my waistband.

I guess the decision was made for me

Damn.