I tip my head back, close my eyes and picture Marissa. I imagine her on her knees in front of me. I tip my head forward grabbing her hair and wrapping it around my fist, her tongue runs up my shaft then her lips wrap around the tip. I forcefully push her head all the way down my shaft.
Her hands grab my thighs, her long nails digging into my skin. She looks up at me through her lashes as I pull her back, then force her back down. She hollows out her cheeks sucking as best she can, spit drips from the side of her mouth, as shestruggles to take me. I’m not small by any means, but this chick isn’t new to this. She’s been at this clubhouse for years. She’s Juggler’s go to for a blow job. And we all know that he’s got a fucking huge dick.
I need to let loose, pulling her off my dick I tip her head back and look down at her.
“You need to tell me if you’re good with rough or if you want me to let you up.”
She grins at me, then pops out her tongue, the tip running up my slit, “Be as rough as you want sexy. I’m good.”
I shake my head; I hate that she keeps calling me sexy. I push her down my shaft so fucking hard, her eyes widen in surprise as my dick hits the back of her throat. I pull her back, almost all the way off then slam her back down.
Her nails dig into my thighs and I swipe them away. I don’t mind her holding my thighs, but I don’t want her marking me. I tighten my hold on her hair, holding her in place as I use my strength and thrust my hips forward slamming my dick into her mouth, then back out again. Her cheeks hollow out, as she sucks, she flattens her tongue and widens her throat allowing me more access.
She grips my thighs again but removes them almost instantly when I pull her back and shake my head at her. I’m close, tingles begin in my stomach and my dick begins to throb. I push her all the way down on my dick and hold her in place. Her eyes begin to tear, and her face turns red as she struggles to breathe. I pull her off giving her a second to catch her breath then slam her back down again, as my dick pules and my hot cum shoots down her throat.
The whore takes it, swallowing down as much as she can. But I’m disappointed to see that she can’t manage it all, my cum and her spit drip from her mouth and down her chin. I hold her in place, catching my breath as I empty my dick into her mouthand down her face. I push her back, and she falls back on her heels she smiles as she wipes the spit and cum from around her mouth.
I reach down, pulling up my jeans and covering up my dick. She stands, her hands resting on my torso as she leans toward me, and I take a step back.
“There’s rooms free, maybe we?—”
“Not interested. Find someone else.”
Her face falls and she looks genuinely disappointed when I take another step back. I don’t give a shit; I walk away before she has a chance to say anything else.
I got what I needed. I wish it had of been someone else on their knees in front of me. I suddenly feel my own wave of disappointment wash over me.
I take my seat back at the bar and signal to the prospect to grab me a beer. I turn to face the room and watch the brunette drop to her knees in front of Juggler. I shake my head, more at myself than her. I can’t believe I just face fucked this bitch while imagining Marissa on her knees in front of me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter
Ten
My phone buzzes on the bed, I lean over to check the number. Who the fuck would be calling me from London? I take a second to decide if I should answer or not. I'm not in the mood to deal with scam calls, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I reach for it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is that Marissa?” asks a male voice.
Suspicious I respond, my tone a little more clipped than I like, “Yes. Who is this?”
“Oh, great. Marissa, it’s Eric Walters from SnapShot studio in London.”
I sit straighter in my seat; this is the call that I’ve been waiting for.
“Oh, Hi Mr Walters. It’s good to hear from you.”
“Marissa, we’ve looked over your portfolio, and your work is outstanding. I was wondering why you wanted to move to a studio and events photography. Working for a local newspaper would surely open a lot more doors for you?”
“Mr Walters.”
“Please, call me Eric.”
“Eric, I never wanted to work for a newspaper. When I did photography at college my aim was always to be in the industry photographing people and events. I love nothing more than capturing people, in their natural setting, capturing images that people can cherish for the rest of their lives. When I did internships during my time at college, we were encouraged to try all aspects, to ensure that we chose the right section of our field. Photographing people came naturally to me, what someone sees as just a regular moment, I see as a chance to capture someone doing something that may seem ordinary to others, but to me it’s a small moment in their lives that should be remembered. I’m good at candid shots, really good. I know this. But I also found that I enjoyed the stage setting, those images that were captured in a studio that was set up for the day.
I like knowing I can produce an image that someone can look back on and feel something good about it.” I stop talking realising I’ve been going at it for several minutes.
