Making His Baby(10)

By: Lulu Pratt

That’s why tonight was so unique. I feel like I’ve known Carrie for years, not days. She is from a similar background as me, but like me, she aims to make something better of herself.

Walking into my house, I’m reminded that despite all my money and success, how beautiful my house is, with its modern architecture, artwork, wooden floors and open spaces, I am isolated.

It’s odd, but I can’t help but think of what it would be like if Carrie was here. And not in a one-night stand sense either. But if she lived here. If we were together. Sure, it’s way too soon to have such thoughts, but still, there’s no reason I can’t dream it. Even if it is only for a second.

Those thoughts quickly mutate though. As I make my way to my bedroom, it doesn’t take long for me to wonder what the night may have been had Carrie said yes to coming home with me. Standing at the end of my California king-size bed, I imagine how it would have been to have her here, to have stripped off that black dress she was wearing. To have kissed down the back of her neck, play with her breasts and bend her over.

I can feel my cock growing thick and hard. Still thinking of Carrie, I undo my pants and drop them to the ground. The release is sensational as my hard cock springs forward, already sticking straight up like a rocket.

I sit on the edge of my bed, closing my eyes as I wrap my hand around myself. My cock is thick, and it pulsates in my palm. I imagine myself kissing Carrie, sucking on her nipples and stroking her thighs as I begin to stroke my own cock. My hand is wrapped around its base, and I slowly move it up and down.

I’m going down on Carrie now, licking her folds and sucking on her clit. She is moaning with pleasure and I can taste her excitement. As I do, I continue to stroke my cock. I loosen my grip just enough so my hand can slide all the way up and down the long, stiff shaft. It feels amazing, and I imagine what it would be like if it was Carrie’s hand instead of my own.

Up and down I stroke. I increase the speed as I imagine Carrie sitting on it. I increase the tempo as I imagine her bouncing on it, her tits jiggling. She rides me with full force, moaning, screaming. She loves how big I am. I love how tight she is, how wet she is. I fall on my back, imagining her hands pressed on my chest as she rides me. I reach up and squeeze her heaving breasts.

She tells me she is about to come. A playful smile on her lips and her eyes shining with pleasure. I stroke myself harder. She asks me to come with her. I continue to work myself. Up and down. And then, as she comes on top of me, I explode.

I let off a moan as hot, sticky cum shoots from the end of my cock. I don’t even care about the mess it makes. I don’t even care that my hand stays wrapped around my dick long after I finish myself off. All I care about in that moment is Carrie and how much I want her.

Chapter 8


My laptop is my haven. Whenever I’m stressed out, sad or feeling a little emotional, I know I can sit down, spend a few hours typing, and all those emotions will melt right off me. But today, I’m at my laptop for a different reason. It’s all to do with Blake.

He is incredible. I can’t stop thinking about him. I haven’t been able to since last night. My sleep last night was one of the most uncomfortable in recent memory. The moment I got home from my date, I got ready for bed. But it was a fruitless effort as I quickly realized that sleep wasn’t going to come. I tossed and I turned, all the while wondering if I made the right choice in denying Blake. Maybe I should have gone home with him? Maybe I should have invited him in for a night cap?

That is why I’m sitting at my laptop right now. I have all these thoughts running through my head, so I figure I best channel them into my work. I was working on another book, but I’ve decided to put that to the side for now. I feel a fresh wave of inspiration, and I know that while I have that, I best take advantage of it.

My new book will be a romance. It will be filled with passion, love and regret. And, most importantly, it will be inspired by Blake.


I have been writing for the better part of two hours now. As predicted, the plot is coming along nicely and I have already come up with some great dialogue. I don’t want to get too cocky, but I think that this is going to be the one. I can just feel it. If I keep this up, there is no way that it won’t be.

As a writer, I am constantly on the lookout for that big break. I am only ever one good piece of work away from writing something that sells. This is going to be it.

All I need is to keep the inspiration coming. That’s going to be the hardest part. What I need is to see Blake again.

I just can’t get last night out of my head. Even now, channeling my thoughts into words, my feelings are as strong as ever. I have never been so turned on before. I have never wanted someone more. I keep telling myself that I made the right choice by coming home instead of going to his. But now, I’m not so sure. What if I never hear from him again?

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