ÔÇ£IÔÇÖve got everything a woman wants and all in one tight, well-muscled, long, hard package.ÔÇØ
Wonder F*ck by Maggie Marr releases on January 31st!
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They call me the Wonder F*ck. ┬áWhy? Because IÔÇÖve got a rocket in my pocket and I live to take you for a ride. IÔÇÖve got everything a woman wants and all in one tight, well-muscled, long, hard package. My goal is to make you come so hard and so often that you finally understand your innate power and how absolutely-fucking beautiful you are. Because every woman is beautiful. Being the Wonderf*ck is my vocation and all I ever wanted to be…or so I thought.
My sexy-neighbor with her douche-nugget ex-fiance. Tara and I werenÔÇÖt friends, barely acquaintances, until the tears, and the fist-fight, and then…the sex. Now what do I do? I canÔÇÖt be me when I’m with her and I canÔÇÖt be Wonder F*ck. I want her, but having Tara means watching the walls of my carefully crafted existence crumble and fall and while I have the strength to provide countless orgasms, IÔÇÖm not sure if I have the strength to love. ┬á┬á
Los Angeles is a small town. I know it seems impossible to believe, unless you live here, but it is. ItÔÇÖs pockets of small communities stacked beside each other. My parents were raised here, IÔÇÖve lived here my entire life except during college, my sister is a Judge here. At this stage there is one degree of separation between everyone–including celebrities.
I suppose itÔÇÖs inevitable.
I stand in GelsonÔÇÖs. I grasp a tomato. Which one is firm and round and needs to be grilled this afternoon? I hear a cart before I see her. I glance up.
Her face turns red. A pinkish blush. She swallows. SheÔÇÖs not nearly as ÔÇÿdone upÔÇÖ as she was when we were together. ItÔÇÖs not Natasha, or Shelly or Carolyn or Leslie or my personal longest vocation Cheryl. This woman is many many women back–six or seven.
This woman gave me the name of Jennifer. I donÔÇÖt flinch. I smile. I donÔÇÖt give her any hint of recognizing her. I donÔÇÖt let on as though IÔÇÖve caressed every inch of skin. Pulled the nipples of her perky breasts now hidden behind a sweatshirt with Stanford emblazoned across the front into my mouth. I donÔÇÖt let on that I remember she has a special penchant for fucking in the bathtub or that she likes to be blindfolded while having sex. No. I push all of the sexual specifics, every last lovely detail from my mind. I compartmentalizeÔÇöas men are so very able to doÔÇöand I simply smile and say, ÔÇ£Hello.ÔÇØ
Her head jerks back and the skin between her eyebrows creases. One quick breath, as though she considers whether sheÔÇÖs lost her mind.
ÔÇ£Never able to pick a good tomato.ÔÇØ I continue. ÔÇ£TheyÔÇÖre always mealy when I get them home.ÔÇØ
Now sheÔÇÖs uncertain. Uncertain that IÔÇÖm the man she thinks I am. ItÔÇÖs been over a year and her memory of our time together, while so vivid she can feel every touch, every thrust, in fact IÔÇÖd bet her panties are wet right now, sheÔÇÖs unsure. I mean people do look substantially different when theyÔÇÖre fucking.
ÔÇ£You want to go with firm.ÔÇØ She lifts a tomato and presses the taut red fruit to her nose. Her gaze meets mine. No, no, she knows itÔÇÖs me. Her tongue flicks out over her lips. ÔÇ£This one is the one you want.ÔÇØ She holds out the juicy flesh toward me.
I take it. Our fingers touch. A zing pulses through me and IÔÇÖm hard. Simple as that. Hard as a rock.
ÔÇ£Thank you.ÔÇØ I lift an eyebrow and tilt my head and walk away from the produce and toward check-out. I donÔÇÖt sleep with every woman that calls. Nor is every number with Wonderfuck scrawled above it mine. IÔÇÖm selective. Careful. Detailed. One canÔÇÖt be too careful when meeting women to fuck away their insecurities and heart break. ┬áAs for the other men who share my name and my vocation. IÔÇÖve not met them, perhaps we should form a club.