She pauses as she gathers her thoughts.
“Take your time,chica.”
“I like the idea of kneeling before you to do that rather than, say, lying between your legs on the bed or even kneeling beside you on the bed. It’s like I’m offering you something. I know you don’t expect tit for tat. You’re not helping me to get something from me…But I feel so limited by what I can do right now to express my appreciation…To give you control and to give you pleasure through that control—I don’t know. It—just…It—feels—exciting.”
Her explanation’s halting. She stumbles over her words, pausing at the end of nearly every sentence as she continues to think aloud.
“Unfasten my pants,chiquita.”
She reaches out and grasps my belt. It only takes a moment before my pants are open, and my boxer briefs are pushed down. She wraps her hand around my cock and strokes.
“Take me in your mouth and suck until I come down your tight little throat.”
Chapter Nineteen
Liesel
The weight of his cock on my tongue is divine. I’d like to think—I hope—I give good blowjobs. They don’t top my list of most enjoyable sex acts, but I don’t mind them. With Jorge, I’m eager to do this. If I can make it even a fraction of how good it felt when he went down on me, then I’ll count it as a success.
I’ve wondered about his dick since I met him, and now I can see and touch it. Taste it. The man is proportionate. He’s tall and broad shouldered, so his dick suits him. That thought tempts me to chuckle, but I concentrate as I run my tongue from his balls to the tip. I flick the slight opening before sinking my mouth onto it. I draw back slowly, teasing him as I go.
I shift my position to make it easier to take more since my goal is to make him come without using my hands. I’ve clasped them behind my back to fight the temptation to stroke him while sucking. He doesn’t rush me, so I breathe easily. I do my best to relax my throat and not gag as I push to swallow him. I’ve only done that a couple of times with guys in the past, and it was more by accident than on purpose. It never lasted more than a couple seconds before intuitive panic kicked in.
My eyes are closed since there’s little to see at this angle, and now I want to concentrate. I think about every blowjob scene I can remember from romance books and porn. I think I’m getting it right from his periodic groans. They’re deep and rumble. Uber masculine. They make me feel desirable and appreciated in a way words or even touch can’t. It’s on a primitive level that seeps into my bones. It’s like I’m coming alive for the first time in—I don’t know how long.
I work his shaft, licking and sucking until I have to come up for air. I pull back for a moment and finally shift my focus to look up at his face. I release my hands, ready to give in and stroke him, so I can rest my jaw for a moment.
“No hands.”
Jorge’s fingertips feather up from the crook of my neck to behind my ear. He weaves his fingers into my hair before easing my head forward. I need no more prompting to wrap my lips around his cock. I tease him with how slowly I slide down his dick. With another deep inhale through my nose and a leap of faith, I work to swallow him.
You want to submit, and he wants to dominate.
Show him you trust him more than you can put into words. Show him you’re his to enjoy.
Make him come like he did you.
I want this for him and for us. Whether I can swallow a guy’s dick was never symbolic of anything to me before. I didn’t care whether a guy thought I gavethe besthead as long as they thought I gave great head. I don’t think it’s the same insecurity which prompted me to sleep with some guys in my past that I now know I could’ve lived without. It made me feel good about myself at the time. In this moment, I want to prove something to myself as much as I do Jorge.
I want to prove to myself that I can let go. That I can accept that moment where I feel out of control—the urge to pull away orgag when he slides down my throat—and know that I can push through it. That I can be patient enough to do this with just my mouth rather than rushing through this like I do most things—moving from one task to another—everything very transactional. That I can be in the moment and not thinking about what’ll come next—what this is a steppingstone to.
Who knew a blowjob was the metaphor of your life?
“Fuck, Liesel. I’m fighting not to come yet.”
I keep my eyes closed, so he can’t see how I revel in that. He presses my head to him and thrusts a little harder. He’d been letting me do most of the work, just rocking his hips here and there. But now he’s fucking my mouth. He’s not rough. I’m certain he’s being careful with me while shifting the balance of control. He’s let me have my turn leading, and now he’s back in charge. It’s well-timed as my jaw starts to ache from being open for so long.
“You’re going to swallow my cum,chiquita.”
I hum my agreement. He pulls back slightly to make it easier for me to take his more forceful thrusts. When I open my eyes and look up, I find him observing me. He’s aware of my comfort even in the middle of getting off.
“Rub your clit and finger yourself,chica.”
I can’t focus on my body enough to gain any relief, but I discover I’m dripping wet with arousal. He plays with my right nipple, rolling, pinching, tugging before squeezing my breast.
“Fuck, yes.Fuuuuck.”
I taste his cum as the first few jets hit my tongue. I work to swallow as fast as I can to keep from feeling like I’m drowning. He pulls out and jerks off twice, giving me a pearl necklace with the last few ropes of cum. I swipe my finger through it and smear it on the nipple he just played with before pushing up my breast and licking it off. He bends in half and sucks on my other nipple.
