I gasped as his long fingerscurled around my cock, gripping me with more confidence than anyone else everhad. My eyes fell closed as I arched up into his touch, ignoring the twinge ofprotesting muscles.
Ashley exploded into a cloudof glitter.
The real world fell on melike a piano dropped from a third-floor window.
A dream. It was a dream.
A sexy dream.
About my client.
Who wasa man.
Lots of things had gonewrong at once. I wasn’t sure how to start handling them.
My dick throbbed, demandingmy attention.
I’d just woken up from a sexdream about my male client and now my dick was hard. Not a little hard, nothalf-hard like every morning. Hard as a steel rod, tenting my sweatpants andthe blanket I was sleeping under like Mount fucking Everest had sprung up betweenmy legs.
My hand slipped into mysweats without permission from my brain. Thought had been temporarilyredirected to my cock, and all it cared about right now was finishing up.
It didn’t care thatAshley was a man or that the moment the rest of my higher functions switchedback on we’d have tothinkabout this, and what it meant, and whetheror not it was okay to jerk off over a client. I hissed at the first touch of myown fingers, oversensitive skin twitching at the sudden touch.
Fuck.
I was already soaked withprecome.
Saddle up, cowboy.
That was easily the dumbestline I’dever given anyone else in my head. Ashley didn’t talk like that. The ridingcrop had warped my brain.
I wasn’t into that kindof thing and I probably never would be, but theimagekept coming backof Ashley in nothing but his underwear, holding that crop, toying with the end.Promise shining in his eyes.
A jolt of pleasure hit deepin the pit of my stomach as I brushed against my balls, back arching off thebed, looking for more friction.
There was no getting awayfrom this. I was jerking myself off and thinking about Ashley slipping into theroom, crawling up the bed on all fours and sitting down on me, naked and soft,all long, lean lines.
Absolutely nothing like thewomen I was normally attracted to. I couldn’t even tell myself that hewas girly enough to confuse me.
I knew Ashley was a man. He’d never told meany different.
In my head, Ashley bent downto kiss me and I had to bite my hand to stifle a moan.
I shouldn’t have beendoing this. I shouldnothave been doing this. What the hell happenedto being more professional?
It’ll be our littlesecret.
Why did my idiot brain thinkdream Ashley could see right through me like I was made of cling film?Ourlittle secret.
Ashley was already sneakinga hand into my sweats in my head, laughing as though this was the best thingthat’dever happened to him. Touching me with long, practiced fingers, fingers that’dbeen on a hundred other guys and felt all the better for it. He knew exactlywhere to touch without being coached, he knew how much pressure felt good andwhen to make it a littletoomuch, just to keep the edge.
Fine. I’d jerk off andgo back to sleep and forget this happened in the morning.
If I was having whatever Iwanted, I wanted Ashley’s mouth. Soft pink lips I’d already tasted kissingtheir way down my chest, a pause to nuzzle the skin under my navel, another oneto lap at the precome that’d dripped onto my stomach. He hummed as if I tastedlike honey, nudging my cock with the tip of his nose.
The first imagined touch ofAshley’stongue against my cock shoved me over the edge with the force of a concussiveblast. Pain chased pleasure as I bit down on my fist to stifle a moan, mystomach bottoming out as I came all over my hand and the inside of my sweats.
A second wave hit as Iimagined Ashley catching it on his tongue, my toes curling as I arched up intomy hand, cock throbbing as more spilled out of me, over my fingers, soaking thefront of my sweatpants in a sticky mess of come and precome.
