“Pleasure, you say?”
“Uh huh.” I smile flirtatiously, and shift my body toward the edge of the tub so I can lean my chin on the side closest to him. “Have you heard of that? Pleasure, I mean.”
I lick my lower lip hungrily and then try to make a come hither gesture with my tongue. It’s a clumsy attempt at seduction, and all it does is make my cheeks fill with the heat of embarrassment, especially when I think about how bad I am at this.
It seems to have the desired effect however, because everything else leaves his eyes except desire. “Oh, I’ve heard of pleasure all right. The question is, haveyou?”
He glances at my hand, then lifts it to his face. To my surprise he begins nibbling on fingers still covered in bath foam.
“Don’t,” I tell him, trying to pull my fingers away, but can’t. “I taste like soap bubbles.”
“I don’t care.” When he licks them clear, he runs his tongue down my inner arm, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. His eyes remain glued to mine the whole time, gauging my reaction.
Then he returns to my knuckles once more and kisses them gently, as if each one were a precious gemstone. He grabs my hand, and folds my fingers into a fist, then lifts my index and middle fingers to his lips. He begins thrusting his tongue back and forth between them and winks. I can’t help but giggle.
“Is that your idea of pleasure?” I ask him.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he says huskily.
His voice gives me chills. He takes my fingers into his mouth one by one, gingerly sucking each of them, coating them in saliva. Then he licks my palm.
“There we go, now you’re properly lubricated,” he tells me.
I am. If I wasn’t taking a bath, I have no doubt the region between my legs would be soaking wet.
It isn’t until a moment later I realize he wasn’t referring to my pussy.
He stands up, unzips his jeans, and slides off his pants. He’s not wearing shoes, so he steps out of the jeans easily. I can see his swollen cock in his white underwear, pulsing, struggling to break free of its confines.
He lifts his arms over his head and those biceps of his bulge as he slides off his T-shirt, displaying his muscular, tattooed chest and abs in their full glory. I want to give that body of his some tongue action of my own.
Massimo lowers his underwear and instantly his big, beautiful cock leaps forth. I can’t help but stare at it, taken in by the beauty of its design. So perfect, that bulb at the top. The long, thick shaft beneath it. The vein that pulses in time to its every throb.
He directs my saliva-lubricated hand over his cock. It’s so hot, literally throbbing with heat. I begin stroking him.
He closes his eyes, tilts his head back, and lets out a savage moan.
He steps closer toward me, his body shuddering with each step, as if he’s struggling to stay on his feet, until he’s at the edge of the tub and his cock is right in front of me.
I swallow eagerly. I can’t wait to experience what it tastes like. Can’t wait to feel it on my tongue. I’m a little worried by the size, but I don’t think he expects me to devour it all. Not for my first time.
Keeping his shaft gripped in my fingers, I lean forward to wrap my lips around the bulb, when he stops me with his other hand.
“Beg me to suck it,” he commands.
I look up at him shyly. “Can I suck it?”
“Beg,” he says.
“Please, can I suck your cock?” I tell him.
He doesn’t answer, just leaves me sitting there, holding his throbbing manhood in my fingers. He waits expectantly.
“Please, big, lovely Massimo, can I suck your perfect cock?” I begin stroking him with my hand encouragingly, and his knees partially give. He leans his thighs against the tub for support.
When he recovers, he says: “You may.”
I slide my lips onto that hard, thrumming bulb. It’s just as hot as the base, if not hotter. I circle my tongue around the tip, teasing him, and another moan escapes his lips.
