“Towel,” she gasps.
There’s no time, so I swipe my shirt off the floor.
Then she lets go.
I catch her release in my shirt, but mostly with my mouth.
“It’s too much,” she whines, though she doesn’t squirm away.
Still inside her, I’m greedy for every quake and pulse of her orgasm. I remain there, gently massaging her G-spot until the last flutters cease.
She flinches at the loss of my fingers when I finally extricate them. I rest my wet face against her ribs, her rapid heartbeat like a personal sound machine, and watch as she pants, her beautiful breasts taunting me with each rise and fall.
I wait for her heart rate to settle, then I ask, “When are you going to let me fuck those gorgeous tits?”
Head tilted up, she hits me with a devious smirk. “Go for it, big guy. They’re all yours.”
Mine.
I wipe my face with my shirt, then slide it under her and help her sit up. When I rest my knees at the edge of the sofa and grasp the back for support, precum leaks from my tip and onto her chest.
Millie captures my cock between her tits and spits, allowing me to slide between the soft skin with ease.
“Tighter.”
With a hum, she pushes her breasts closer together, trapping me. “Fuck, that feels good,” I groan as I grind my hips into her cleavage, savoring the warm, slippery sensation.
The seductive look she gives me has my balls clenching. She releases her hold, and just as I’m about to protest, she grabs my shaft and takes me into her mouth, simultaneously stroking and sucking, coating my cock until it’s slick enough that she tucks me back between her tits.
As we work in tandem, she whispers words of encouragement, sexy little phrases that have me nearly slipping off the sofa with every thrust of my hips.
“I’m close,” I warn her.
“Are you imagining it’s my pussy? Do you wish you could come inside me?”
“Fuck.” That does it. Those words and the image of unleashing inside her bare send me over the edge. Hot ribbons of cum brand her throat like a pearl necklace.
When I’m spent, I slump onto the cushion to her left, my chest heaving and my cock still leaking.
Millie pulls my shirt out from under her and wipes my release from her neck, then passes it to me.
It’s sopping wet. “Shit,” I laugh.
“I’ll wash it for you,” she says, angling forward like she’s going to stand.
Before she can, I pull her into me and cocoon her in place. When I kiss the top of her head, she relaxes against me. Fuck, my chest aches with so much admiration for this woman. For a long while, she plays with the dark hair at my navel while I feather my fingers against her hip. My eyes are closed, my mind wandering, when she brushes my inner thigh, startling me.
She kneads the muscle there, her knuckles brushing against my balls. “How much time do you need?”
I open my eyes to meet hers. “Huh?”
She grabs my balls and tugs. “How much time do you need before you’re ready to go again?”
32
Millie
JOEY IS STILLthe only person who knows about my appointment with Dr. Thomas. My mom would have dropped everything to come with me, but sometimes she acts a bit too much like a stereotypical Jewish mother. The woman can be downright suffocating. If she catches wind that I have a headache or sniffle, she’s at my doorstep with a noodle kugel. I don’t even like noodle kugel.
