Tyson stands in front of me, I’m still sitting on the couch, and that makes me practically eye level with his dick straining against his light gray boxers. I can even see the dot of wetness smeared on the fabric. My mouth waters, thinking about making him feel that way without him even being touched.
He made me see stars and that made him this hot? Ugh, I’m obsessed. It makes me feel powerful—even though he wanted to boss me around—and I’m here for it.
I put my fingers in the band of his briefs and look up, his eyes laser focused on me—my mouth.
“Is this okay?” I ask, making sure we’re still on the samepage.
“Fuck yes. You’re killing me, Blair. I need you to touch me.” He puts his hand through his hair, raking through the dark brown locks, and landing at his hips next where he lets them rest.
I let out a small laugh, “Someone had no problem making me wait.”
His fingertips scratch my scalp as he puts his hand through my hair, before they land under my chin. “Do you want to taste me, Blair?” His voice is rough, like driving over a gravel road and it makes me throb—the hunger that was sated only a minute ago needs more.
“Yes,” I answer.
He pulls his briefs down, his cock springing forward, and I need a moment. Just a second or two. Yes, Tyson is over six feet tall but I never thought about how that translated to this part of him. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to take all of him. It’s veiny and thick and the wave of excitement that washes over me feels like a breath of fresh air.
Can’t wait to try.
I reach forward, brushing the remnants of the precum on the head, before letting my fingers graze down to his base. I can feel his eyes on me, like he’s clocking every movement.
Wrapping my hand around his dick at the base, I pull a little forward and meet him with a soft kiss. It’s heavy—substantial—in my hand. I can feel the groan that slips out of his mouth and I’m amazed I can make him feel like this with this type of touch—a close mouthed kiss.
Looking up, I part my lips and put him in my mouth, slow and steady. I take as much as I can, barely meeting my hand at his base, before I pull him out. I go a little further with the next pass, this time gagging.
“Fuck, do that again,” Tyson groans, his hands on his hips while he lets me take control of setting the pace.
I do what he asks and try to get a little more but still gag. He’s pushing me to my limit but I still feel in control—comfortable—and eager.
Setting a rhythm, stroking him and then sucking on his length in tandem, I reach my other hand up his chest. The muscles underneath are flexed, strong, and I let my hand scratch down his front. Tyson grabs my wrist and plants a soft kiss on the inside, while moaning as I work him in my mouth.
When his hands find the back of my head, he’s gentle as he shifts the position enough to get a little more of what he’s looking for. I know he’s holding back and today’s not the day to tell him to fuck my mouth the way I want him to. A girl has to build herself up to that.
“Oh fuck, you look so good like this. My dick in that mouth. Your pretty lips around it.” He praises me while fisting my hair and then pulling my head away from him.
His hands are on my sides, lifting me up, and kissing me. Frantic. Desperate. Like he needs me to breathe. I wrap my legs around him as he grabs a handful of my ass with each hand.
“I’m not about to fuck you on this couch. I’m taking you to my room. Is that okay?”
I put his earlobe in my mouth, nipping it, and then say in his ear, “Please.”
He kisses the crook of my neck as he walks us to his room, lightly tossing me on the bed, which must be a king considering I can spread out my entire body. Tyson reaches for the bottom of his shirt, and lifts the Henley up and over. Again, I need a moment. I’ve never been with a man like this, with a body built like this. He’s an offensive tackle so he has to put on quite a bit of weight and good god does it suit him. His arms, his shoulders, chest—I have to make sure I’m not actually drooling.
Tyson rolls his neck and growls, “Need you to take your shirt off, baby.”
No questions asked. I sit up, grab my top, and lift it up and over. The only thing that’s left is a black bralette, and when Tyson nods at me, I know he wants that off, too.
Once I’m completely bare for him, he licks his lips, before hovering over me on the bed. “You’re fucking unreal,” he says before pressing his lips to my neck.
He moves quickly, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone, and then he takes one of my breasts in his hands, the other holding him up. Tipping his head down, he puts my nipple in his mouth, and even though this is one of my most insecure body parts, Tyson doesn’t bat an eye. I’ve never been busty, or had the sexy cleavage some women complain about. Typically, it’s hard to feel sexy, but the way that Tyson looks at me, devours me, I feel like a queen.
Then he’s rolling the pink bud, peaked with arousal, with one hand while his mouth sucks the other. I’ve never been a big fan of nipple play—more like a thing for my partner instead of bringing me any pleasure, but whatever he’s doing is definitely working. Ty has me throbbing underneath him. He cages my body while worshiping me, moaning into my skin, flicking my skin with his tongue—my cheeks redden thinking about his face between my legs only a few minutes ago.
My orgasm builds and I can’t believe how close I feel. I swear, the right words from this man's mouth could push me over, for the second time today.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, pulling away from my nipples.
“The fact that you’re going to make me come again,” I answer, maybe too honestly.
