Page 50 of Man Flu

“You look like you’re afraid this might hurt,” he says. How can he see my face in the dark? I open one eye halfway, noting it’s not completely dark in here because there’s a car parked outside with the lights on. Lovely, let’s shine some light on this subject.

“I wasn’t prepared …” I try to warn.

“Relax.” That’s what my OB always says. Don’t say that. I even clean up down there for her. He scoots up, bringing his body parallel in position to mine, which comforts me a bit more. His lips are against my ear. “If you don’t relax, I’ll have to make you relax.”

I don’t think he’s going to have a choice at this point. His fingers slip inside of me without pausing for a moment to acknowledge the situation down yonder, which allows my mind to slowly filter out all the terrifying thoughts, allowing me to focus on the warmth of his girthy fingers that are gliding in and out of me at just the right speed. Another finger joins the others, and I’m nearly climbing up the back of my bed, expelling moans so loud, the neighbors can probably to hear me. Asshole neighbors.

His thumb presses on my trigger, and my hips thrust against his hand, bucking wildly off the bed. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Yes. Don’t stopppp. Right there. Yes, yes. Yes!”

Limp as a rag, I collapse like liquid into my plush mattress, riding the quivers that are running through every nerve in the lower region of my body. “Thank you,” I cry out in the form of a plea as if he has solved all my world’s problems with just his fingers.

“I almost got off just watching you get off,” he murmurs.

“Let me help with that,” I reply.

I slide off the bed, bringing myself to my knees. I pull his cock out of his unzipped pants and hold it firmly within my hand, noting it is as pretty as I described. He isn’t stopping me, so maybe there really isn’t an issue with his dick. We’ll see, I guess. I just hope the zipper on his jeans doesn’t do any damage. Usually, the pants are off for this part of the night.

With a firm grip around his shaft, I lower my mouth over the tip and lick gently while following my hand as it glides down his long, really long, wow, okay—dick until the tip hits the back of my throat. His hands tangle in my hair, and his fingers tighten and loosen with every flick of my tongue.

With a glance up at his face, I hope to catch a glimpse of his expression, but there’s no more light filling the room, so I’m left with my imagination.

His grip grows tighter the faster my hand and mouth move around his cock, and growls scrape against his throat as his body moves in rhythm with my lips. Logan’s hands find my face, and he squeezes gently. “I’m going to—”

“I suck him in a little harder, feeling the instant relief of warmth dribble down the back of my throat.”

“Shit, Hannah, I don’t even know what to say, other than that was probably one of the hottest moments of my life.”

That’s a nice compliment, and somewhat unexpected. “Thanks.” I sound mousy, shy, and not like the woman who just sucked him off like it was my job. Nope because my job is to be his boss, but I’m better at getting him off.

And, I’d probably do it again.