“Your lips are to be wrapped around my dick.”
My heart hammers in my chest. My knees weaken. Desire blossoms in the pit of my stomach.
I’m so glad he doesn’t know he’s a suspect in my eyes. I can get close to him now.
I nod. I’ve been craving his dick in my mouth. And if he doesn’t think I’m onto him, he’ll let his guard down completely.
I tie my hair into a messy bun, drop to my knees under the desk, and feel my panties dampen as I blink slowly. I slide him between my lips, suck the tip, pumping up and down his shaft. The head hits the back of my throat. Irvin pushes my head down until I choke and gag, spit dribbling down my chin.
He moans my name as he tries to type on his laptop.
“My love, your mouth feels so warm around me.”
He shoves my head down, and I try to breathe through my mouth without choking.
Several seconds later, he explodes in my mouth. He tastes salty and warm. I swallow and look up at him.
He hurries, tucks himself back into his pants, puts his laptop into his backpack, then grabs my book bag and slings it over his shoulder.
Without a word, he watches me like a hawk and strokes my cheek.
Usually, he tries to fuck me after he fucks my mouth, but he’s acting nonchalant now. As if he didn’t just use me as a blow-up doll.
I fidget with my wedding band. Suddenly, it’s stuffy in the small room.
“Are you going to fuck me now, Irvin?”
He shakes his head, then taps his finger on my nose.
My eyes narrow.
“Why not?” My breathing is sharp, unsteady.
“I have something to do, but first I’m going to take you home.”
I try to play it cool, but I don’t understand his behavior. One minute he acts like he craves me, and the next he’s acting like he doesn’t care about my needs.
“What the fuck, Irvin? Don’t you think it’s fucked up to use me for a blow job and not fuck me?”
He shrugs.
This bastard shrugs.
What the fuck is going on?
“You wouldn’t care if I stopped fucking you, right? So why does it matter if I use your mouth?”
“Why are you being an asshole?”
He strokes my cheek again. I press my lips to his and wrap my arms around his shoulders, but he pulls away.
What the fuck is going on?
“Are you playing a game with me?” I snap.
“No, I’m not.”
I step forward, but he steps back, then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I step forward again. He has never made me more confused than I already am.
