Inseparable: A New Adult Erotic Romance Read Online Free Page B
Author: Bella Chal
over the edge.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she cried out.
It hit her like a storm. Her hands clutched the sheets even harder and her toes curled. She screamed, her face going red. The muscles around his shaft squeezed and pulsed, trying to coax him into joining her. He began to thrust even quicker, his fingers gripping her breasts even tighter. As the last wave of her orgasm hit, she could feel a warm sensation as he filled her with his seed. She knew this was dangerous, but she couldn't stop. As his orgasm wound down as well, she felt him kissing her wildly.
"That was the best sex I’ve ever had," Julie said after she caught her breath. "Seriously."
He rolled off of her and slid his arm under her pillow, kissing her on her shoulder. After a long silence, he whispered, "Tell me something about yourself. I want to know all about you. What do you do for fun? Did you ever want to go to school?"
"Yeah, I did. I always considered myself smart, but studying was mostly something to keep me occupied at home. I read all the time, almost anything I could get my hands on. I wanted to be a writer for a while, then a journalist, but an English degree will get you a job at Starbucks and a Journalism degree will let you clean the bathrooms."
"So why didn't you?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
"I got offered a little financial aid when I graduated, but the gap between aid and paid was too big for me to manage alone. Mom has nothing. Hell, I pay for over half the bills as it is. There’s just no way for me to do school and work. I take classes at Houston Community College when they offer cheap ones. I’ve done a few art classes, a series on photography. I finally stopped because it just made me realize how much I’d love to go to school full time."
"You ever think of joining the service for the GI Bill?"
"No, not my style. I am a bit too independent to take orders seriously. Besides, Mom would end up living even worse than we do now if I left her."
"So are you working at Bigger Bounce full time?"
"I wish. I also work at a flea market on the weekends selling things Mom can’t move at the pawn shop. I found if I wear a tight shirt and let them think they have a chance, I can usually cover about twice the cost of the table, sometimes a little extra. I also paint murals for restaurants. Sometimes I pull a shift delivering food, but my car is so worn out that I’m really pushing my luck doing that. I painted faces at the art festival last year and made out pretty well, but you can’t do that full time."
Jack rested his lips on her shoulder, then said quietly, "No wonder you got so mad at me."
"Yeah, most of you rich guys have a no-fee bank account, regular paychecks, make more than you owe while I have a pre-paid debit card. You know how that works?"
He shook his head.
"You take your paycheck to a check cashing place, but it costs you less if you just pay the three bucks to put the money on their pre-paid debit card. It mostly works like a bank debit card, but they also charge a monthly fee, so you have to watch it if you get low at the end of the month. It’s all fees, fees, fees as they whittle down the little bit of money you make, hardly noticing each cut as they bleed you dry. When I sat down last year to add it up, I realized that I’d paid something like two hundred bucks for the convenience of using it."
"Seriously? That sucks! Why haven’t I heard about this before?"
"Poor people can’t buy media coverage; we have to spend our cash on food and gas."
"Damn... how can you live like that?"
"What choice do I have? I consider myself hard working and smart, but without some kind of starting capital or family to rely on for support, smart just doesn’t cut it anymore. So instead of becoming a drunk like my mom, or sitting around stoned all day playing video games like some of my old high school friends, I just go out and find a big, dumb, strapping guy to fuck me stupid. Then I go home to my rat hole of
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she cried out.
It hit her like a storm. Her hands clutched the sheets even harder and her toes curled. She screamed, her face going red. The muscles around his shaft squeezed and pulsed, trying to coax him into joining her. He began to thrust even quicker, his fingers gripping her breasts even tighter. As the last wave of her orgasm hit, she could feel a warm sensation as he filled her with his seed. She knew this was dangerous, but she couldn't stop. As his orgasm wound down as well, she felt him kissing her wildly.
"That was the best sex I’ve ever had," Julie said after she caught her breath. "Seriously."
He rolled off of her and slid his arm under her pillow, kissing her on her shoulder. After a long silence, he whispered, "Tell me something about yourself. I want to know all about you. What do you do for fun? Did you ever want to go to school?"
"Yeah, I did. I always considered myself smart, but studying was mostly something to keep me occupied at home. I read all the time, almost anything I could get my hands on. I wanted to be a writer for a while, then a journalist, but an English degree will get you a job at Starbucks and a Journalism degree will let you clean the bathrooms."
"So why didn't you?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
"I got offered a little financial aid when I graduated, but the gap between aid and paid was too big for me to manage alone. Mom has nothing. Hell, I pay for over half the bills as it is. There’s just no way for me to do school and work. I take classes at Houston Community College when they offer cheap ones. I’ve done a few art classes, a series on photography. I finally stopped because it just made me realize how much I’d love to go to school full time."
"You ever think of joining the service for the GI Bill?"
"No, not my style. I am a bit too independent to take orders seriously. Besides, Mom would end up living even worse than we do now if I left her."
"So are you working at Bigger Bounce full time?"
"I wish. I also work at a flea market on the weekends selling things Mom can’t move at the pawn shop. I found if I wear a tight shirt and let them think they have a chance, I can usually cover about twice the cost of the table, sometimes a little extra. I also paint murals for restaurants. Sometimes I pull a shift delivering food, but my car is so worn out that I’m really pushing my luck doing that. I painted faces at the art festival last year and made out pretty well, but you can’t do that full time."
Jack rested his lips on her shoulder, then said quietly, "No wonder you got so mad at me."
"Yeah, most of you rich guys have a no-fee bank account, regular paychecks, make more than you owe while I have a pre-paid debit card. You know how that works?"
He shook his head.
"You take your paycheck to a check cashing place, but it costs you less if you just pay the three bucks to put the money on their pre-paid debit card. It mostly works like a bank debit card, but they also charge a monthly fee, so you have to watch it if you get low at the end of the month. It’s all fees, fees, fees as they whittle down the little bit of money you make, hardly noticing each cut as they bleed you dry. When I sat down last year to add it up, I realized that I’d paid something like two hundred bucks for the convenience of using it."
"Seriously? That sucks! Why haven’t I heard about this before?"
"Poor people can’t buy media coverage; we have to spend our cash on food and gas."
"Damn... how can you live like that?"
"What choice do I have? I consider myself hard working and smart, but without some kind of starting capital or family to rely on for support, smart just doesn’t cut it anymore. So instead of becoming a drunk like my mom, or sitting around stoned all day playing video games like some of my old high school friends, I just go out and find a big, dumb, strapping guy to fuck me stupid. Then I go home to my rat hole of
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