She took his cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue over the bulbous top part. Well, as much as she could. She licked the ridges. It was musky with a taste that matched George’s cedar smell. Wonderful. And from the groan she heard, she had done something right. She did it again. And again. Then she remembered something Alice had said and what she had done to George’s finger three days ago, and she took him deeper into her mouth and then pulled her head back, sucking and using her tongue at the same time. He had too much girth for her to make a satisfying pop with her lips when she took her mouth all the way off of him, but his phallus was so big now. So hard.
“Phee.” His head lifted and his eyes bore into her. He looked savage. His other hand came to her own head and laced into her hair. “Phee.”
She didn’t have to ask. She knew he liked it.
“What else, George?”
His head went back. His voice seemed to be coming from very far away. “You . . . can . . . use your hand . . . in tandem with your mouth.”
It was time to assert herself. “George?”
He lifted his head. “Yes?”
“I want you to put your seed in my mouth.”
He mumbled something she didn’t hear because she had taken him in her mouth again and put her hand on him and she was rubbing and sucking and licking him all at the same time.
The clutching of her breast became disordered, chaotic.
She paused. “Am I doing it right?”
His answer was a moan and she went back to what she was doing before. Very little time passed before his hand fell from her breast and he clutched her buttock instead. His words became distinct.
“Phee. I’m going to spend.”
And then he squeezed her cheek with his hand and he screamed as he had on Friday, and she felt a warm pulsing in her mouth and tasted a slightly thick, slightly soapy fluid. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was positively benign.
But. Oh, no. Should she spit the seed out? And where? Before she had taken him in her mouth, she should have asked him if she could swallow it. She thought quickly. What had Alice said last year? Her stomach was not connected to her womb. She should not get with child from this. She swallowed.
Very carefully, she took her mouth off of him. She sat up. It hadn’t taken very long at all.
“What now, George?”
Strong arms grabbed her under her own arms, and he dragged her up toward his head.
“Now.” A sigh. “Now, you give a man a moment to recover.”
She giggled and put her head on the mat of dark hair on his chest and put her arm across him and held his flank on the other side. How wonderful. How easy it had been. How wrong she had been to worry.
“Thank you, George.”
“Thank me?”
She giggled again and lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes were closed. “I did well, didn’t I?”
His arm had been holding her very loosely to his side. Now it tightened and he pulled her against him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “You did marvelously well.”
“Good.” She put her head down again. She could see his cock—she whispered the word in her head—was losing its size, its strength.
“Why didn’t Morton come and knock, George?”
“Morton?” His hand idly stroked her back.
“When you screamed.”
“I gave the staff the night off and tickets to the theater. Everyone left just after you got here. I wanted to ensure our privacy. And Alice is at her literary society as usual, on Mondays.”
“Is screaming normal? I don’t scream.”
