Instead of nestling into my chest like I expect, she scoots down until her face is level with my cock. Her fingers trail over my balls and the inside of my thighs, feather-light.
“Fuck, that feels amazing.” My head drops back against the pillow, my eyes sliding shut.
I can feel her smile against my skin. So easy to make her smile. Just say one nice thing to her and she practically lights up.
“Tell me if this is okay.”
When she takes my soft cock in her mouth, my eyes fly open. “Jesus—”
She doesn’t suck. Doesn’t stroke. Just holds me there, warm and wet and soft, her tongue occasionally massaging my cock.
“You want to get fucked again, princess? That’s a good way to make that happen.” My hips rock involuntarily, seeking friction.
She pulls off with a laugh, her breath cool against my damp skin. “No, just… it’s nice, isn’t it?”
I push my cock back into her mouth, my hand tangling in her hair. “Very nice. But I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth if you keep—”
She pulls away again and lightly smacks my thigh. Her expression is stern but her eyes are sparkling. “Vin. Just enjoy it.”
“Fine,” I grumble but relax back against the pillows, letting her take control.
She takes me back into her mouth, her fingernails dragging over my balls, tracing the creases of my thighs, circling my hipbones. I massage her scalp, my fingers working through her hair, and feel the tension drain from my body.
This is definitely… something. More intimate than fucking. More intimate than anything I’ve done with anyone.
Her breathing slows, her hands still, and I realize she’s fallen asleep with my cock still in her mouth.
What the fuck.
I should move. Should pull out and let her sleep normally. But the warmth of her mouth, the weight of her on me, the gentle suction as she breathes is soothing in a way I didn’t know I needed.
I close my eyes.
**
I wake in the middle of the night to her wet hot mouth still on my cock and the slow drag of her tongue.
She’s still asleep, her eyes closed, but her mouth is working me gently, lazily. My cock is hard, throbbing, and I’m so turned on I can barely process what I’m doing before I’m doing it.
I grip her head gently and rock my hips forward, shallow thrusts that push deeper into her throat. She moans in her sleep, the vibration traveling up my shaft.
“Fuck, Sophia,” I whisper, thrusting faster. “Your mouth. So fucking good.”
She doesn’t wake, just keeps sucking, keeps moaning. When I come, I bury myself as deep as I can, spilling down her throat with a strangled groan.
Cum dribbles out of the corner of her mouth and I wipe it away with the sheet. She sighs contentedly, settling deeper into sleep as I close my eyes and let sleep take me again, my cock still cradled in her mouth.
**
When I wake up in the morning, she’s gone.
The bed beside me is cold, the apartment silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. Pale morning light filters through the curtains, and on the nightstand is a plate covered with a dish towel and a note written in elegant script:
You were amazing. Thank you. Here’s a little something for you, my nonna’s recipe. Hope your day is good. —S
I lift the towel to reveal a pile of cornettos, fresh light pastries still warm from the oven.
Did she fucking make these for me? Before she left for work?
