Unwrapping Hanie
By Empi Baryeh
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
Hanie Morrison has either completely lost her mind, or she's finally taken charge of her love life when she starts a liaison with a man she meets online. Their friendship fast becomes more, and she's having the best (cyber) sex of her life.
When her internet lover decides to travel halfway across the world to see her, she must make a decision of her own—book a one-way ticket back to reality or risk her heart and find love one orgasm at a time.
(Buyer beware! The heat starts on page one)
Empi Baryeh
Empi Baryeh is the award-winning author of Most Eligible Bachelor (Book of the year, 2017 Ufere Awards). She works fulltime as a university administrator and spend her spare time writing sweet and sensual African, multicultural and interracial romance, and women's fiction. Her interest in writing started around the age of thirteen after she stumbled upon a YA story her sister had started and abandoned. The story fascinated her so much that, when she discovered it was unfinished, she set out to complete it. Somehow the rest of the story began to take shape in her mind and she's been writing ever since. She lives in Accra, Ghana, with her husband and their two lovely kids.
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Book preview
Unwrapping Hanie - Empi Baryeh
Chapter 2
Trojan: I walk into a room. You’re lying face down on the bed – naked...legs parted...your bum faces the door
Vixen: Ooh...
Trojan: Your eyes are closed, so you don’t see me. I can’t take my eyes off you
She shivered, unable to contain her need. She’d planned on waiting until she went to bed before pleasuring herself as she’d done on several occasions. But waiting would be torture. The next moment, she was slipping her hand inside her panties.
Using two fingers to part her feminine folds, she rubbed her middle finger gently over her clit and shivered as sensations rippled through her. It felt so good; better than usual ... maybe because Peter was somewhat involved.
Somewhat. The word lingered in her mind, pointing an accusatory finger at her for not telling him what she was doing.
Trojan: I stop as I notice you’re pleasuring yourself
Her brows shot up as a soft gasp left her lips. Somehow, she sensed he knew.
Trojan: My dick is hard watching your feminine juices seep out. I’m jealous. I want to be inside you...at the same time I’m enjoying watching
Her finger moved faster over the swollen bud of her clit. A harsh groan escaped from her mouth, followed by another.
Trojan: I whip out my cock and begin to rub it
Oh, Peter,
she moaned, visualising it. Her breath came in rapid gusts.
Vixen: I want you so much
Trojan: You begin to breathe faster. You raise your hips off the bed...doggy style. You move like you’re shagging. Oh, how you move...you want to use your finger, but the angle is odd. I step up and lend you mine (wink)
Oh,
she moaned, giving herself over to the sensations ripping through her, causing her intimate muscles to quiver.
Trojan: Are you there?
In a haze, fast approaching a climax, she forced herself to answer as quickly as she could with one hand.
Vixen: Don’t stop
Trojan: You release a satisfied moan, but still you don’t open your eyes. You’re so wet. I’m now fucking you with two fingers. My dick hurts, I want to be inside you
Vixen: I want it
She spread her legs further, scooting to the edge of her seat so she could slide two fingers into her slick heat. Her moans filled the room. Her eyes began to shut; she forced herself to keep them open to read his words.
Trojan: Do you want me inside you, Hanie?
She gasped. Was he kidding?
Vixen: This is your fantasy
Trojan: *Our* fantasy, babe. You must want me inside you
She groaned, her frustration mounting.
Vixen: Yes, I do
Trojan: Beg
She whimpered.
Vixen: Please, sweetie
Trojan: :-) Your wish is my command.
Trojan: I pull out my fingers, lick them. I love the taste of you
Trojan: I tell you to spread your legs for me. You do, showing me your pussy
Legs trembling, she spread her thighs even more. She pictured him rubbing his hot, hard tip against her throbbing core, teasing and taunting.
Vixen: I’m ready for you
Trojan: I push in with my cock...very...slowly. It feels so good, babe. You moan and call my name
Trojan: I like to hear you say my name like that...so breathy, so content
Peter.
It tumbled out of her mouth without warning. She didn’t stop to wonder where that had come from. It felt right, and for once, she refused to over-analyse it.
Vixen: Peter...
Trojan: Yes, babe
Vixen: More...
Trojan: I hold your free hand, entwining our fingers. We move in perfect harmony. It doesn’t take long before you start to shake...you make little whimpering noises. Drives me crazy. I pump harder...faster. I want us to come together
She was hurtling towards the edge.
Trojan: Your pussy squeezes my dick. You’re coming. Darling, I can’t hold on any longer
Neither could she. Her lips parted with a silent cry as she combusted in several waves of bliss. She bucked on the chair, her legs trembling while exquisite sensations rocked her body.
Trojan: You scream as you come. I’m shaking, spilling cum inside you
It took several moments for her breathing to return to normal and for the trembling in her limbs to subside.
Trojan: I hold you after (I think you’d like that) and we fall asleep
Her lips wobbled into a smile. She did like cuddling. He seemed to know her so well.
As the thought materialised, so did the reality of the moment—she’d just had sex with Peter. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t actually here. His words had sent her soaring on wings of ecstasy.
A part of her, which she refused to acknowledge, wanted this to happen again, because this, sadly, was the best sex she’d had in a long time. It meant only one thing. She was getting emotionally involved. How had she let that happen?
Trojan: Did you like it, babe?
She stared at the screen, worry weaving a web in her chest. This couldn’t occur again. A simple no
and goodbye
would put an end to it. Somehow, her fingers refused to type the words.
Trojan: Hanie?
Her fingers lingered hesitantly on the keyboard.
Vixen: I’m here
Trojan: This is the first time you’ve called me sweetie
No way. She scrolled up and froze when she saw it. Her hand rose to cover her lips as the words danced before her vision—a reminder of how much she’d let her guard down. This definitely had to end.
Vixen: Got to go
Trojan: Is it something I said?
Vixen: No...it’s getting late here
Trojan: We’re on the same time zone, remember?
Vixen: Goodnight
Trojan: Hanie, wait
She logged out before he could say anything else.
PETER DIDN’T MOVE. His heart had gone from walking-on-air to heavy-as-lead in a single instant, his ego deflated, unlike his dick. Had he overdone it? He knew she was cautious, thought things through before taking a step. At the same time, he detected a vivacity about her that spurred him on.
He still remembered the first time he’d seen her photo and read her profile. She’d described herself as a gift that could only be unwrapped by special hands. The little info he’d been privy to had been put forth in the most interesting way. He’d experienced an urge he hadn’t had since high school—he’d wanted to be her friend.
As an IT person, he knew all too well the evils that prowled the Internet. However, the preliminary checks he’d performed hadn’t pulled up any worrying information, so he’d contacted her.
From the moment she’d accepted his friendship request, she’d consumed his thoughts. They’d exchanged a couple of messages on SayHello before he’d ventured his personal email. She’d refused to give him hers, forcing him to wait for her to make the first move.
He chuckled, remembering that first move several weeks later. ‘Hi, this is Hanie from SayHello. Here’s my email.’
In his reply, he’d told her about himself and had added a picture that wasn’t on his profile. She’d sent back another two-liner. After his fifth email, he didn’t know what he’d said to make her open up, but she’d sent him a long one. He’d discovered she was even more interesting than the witty profile that had caught his attention.
Nearly two months later, he’d found her online, and they’d chatted, exchanging phone numbers after the session. Though they’d talked about random, unimportant things, he’d logged off with an odd sense of fulfilment. He’d woken up the next morning thinking about her, so he’d sent her a text wishing her a good day. Over time, the text messages had graduated to daily calls and