She moans around my cock, the vibration traveling straight to my balls. I thrust harder, faster, chasing that feeling. It almost feels like she has no gag reflex at all, like she was made for this, for taking cock, for being used exactly how she wants to be used.
If I keep this going, I'll finish faster than she'll get tired of the blowjob. Already I can feel my orgasm building, pressure gathering at the base of my spine, my balls tightening.
Not yet. Not like this.
I slow down, my thrusts becoming shallow, gentle. Then I pull out completely, my cock leaving her mouth with a wet pop. Strings of saliva coat her lips, connecting her mouth to my cock, and she looks absolutely debauched.
Beautiful.
"Why'd you stop?" she asks, her voice wrecked. "I wasn't done."
"Because I was about to come," I admit roughly, reaching down to help her stand. "And I'm not finishing in your mouth the first time we do this."
"Where then?" Her eyes are challenging, hungry. "Where do you want to finish, Mason?"
Everywhere. On her tits. On her face. Deep inside her. But I don't say any of that yet.
"Shower first," I rasp out, reaching past her to turn on the water. "Then we'll see where this goes."
She nods, still breathless, and starts stripping off her cardigan. I help her, my hands shaking slightly as I reveal more of her body. The cardigan hits the floor. Then her shirt. Then her bra: white cotton, stretched tight over her full breasts.
When her tits spill free, I nearly lose my mind. They're huge, soft, with nipples already peaked with arousal. Perfect handfuls, more than handfuls. I want to bury my face between them, suck her nipples until she's begging.
But first, the shower.
I strip off my henley while she shimmies out of her jeans and panties. Then we're both naked, steam filling the bathroom, the mirror already fogging up.
I pull her into the shower with me, the hot water cascading over both of us. She gasps as it hits her, washing away the sweat and dust from the day. I grab the soap and start washing her, my hands sliding over her curves, learning every inch of her body.
She's soft everywhere. Thick thighs, round stomach, full breasts that bounce with every movement. Stretch marks on her hips and belly from pregnancy. She's real. Perfect. Everything I've been craving without knowing it.
"Mason," she breathes as my hands cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Please."
"Please what?" I lean down, my mouth close to her ear. "Tell me what you want, Lily."
"Touch me." Her hands grip my shoulders. "Fuck me. Anything. Just...I need more."
I slide one hand down her stomach, over the soft curve of her belly, between her thick thighs. When my fingers find her pussy, she's soaking wet. Not just from the shower. From arousal, from sucking my cock, from wanting this as much as I do.
"Fuck, you're wet," I groan, sliding two fingers inside her.
"For you," she gasps. "All for you."
Chapter 11 - Lily
This is happening. This is fucking happening.
I still can't believe I invited him to shower with me. Can't believe he accepted. Can't believe I got on my knees for a man I met last night and sucked his cock like I was starving for it.
But I was. I am.
And he has the most amazing cock I've ever seen—thick, long, perfect. The kind of cock that should come with a warning label.
Above all, I can't believe a man asked me if he could be rough. Like I had a choice. Like my pleasure mattered as much as his. That's never happened before. Every other man just took what he wanted and didn't care if I enjoyed it.
But Mason asked. And when I said yes, when I told him I wanted it rough, he gave me exactly what I needed.
I loved gagging on his cock. Loved feeling it hit the back of my throat, loved being at his mercy while simultaneously feeling completely safe. I trust him. Completely. Impossibly. A man I barely know, and I trust him with my body, my pleasure, my vulnerability.
