Yesterday I touched it. And that was overwhelming in itself. But this close—feeling the heat of his arousal on my lips andsmelling his manly musk that coats my lungs—I start to realize what that feeling was inside me.
Not relief. Worship.
I want to worship this man.
“Open up,” he says. I do as I’m told.
He moves his hips forward, guiding his sex to my lips with one hand as he slips the other into my hair, threading the strands, cupping the back of my skull with his palm.
His swollen tip, dripping with slick, presses against my lips. So smooth, so hot, so salty.
My whole body reacts. My nerves begin to sing, and my eyes close on instinct.
“No. Look at me,” he orders. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”
Obediently, I look up at him. Being told what to do like this—feeling wanted—it’s awakened something inside of me. And I just want more.More.
He feeds me another inch. My jaw opens to accommodate him. My lips strain around his girth, and I moan. It’s just so hot. The weight of his sex on my tongue is short-circuiting my brain. Every thought is replaced byhim.
The wonderful existence ofhim.
“Good girl. Now suck it.” His fingers tighten in my hair, causing my hips to buck slightly. “Use your tongue on the underside. Trace that vein—fuck yes. Just like that, angel.”
Angel…
Hearing him call me that is transformative. Like he’s awakening some other piece of me.
I do as he instructs. I flatten my tongue and lick along the ridge of his shaft. His entire body jolts, and his grip in my hair goes tight enough that it starts to sting. Somehow, that ignites my desire even more.
I want to please this man. Ineed to.
“Deeper.” He pushes my head down and his hips forward. “You won’t choke. Just breathe through your nose.”
I try my best, but I gag when his crown presses against the back of my throat. I try to hold back, but he holds me there for a second. My throat starts to burn, and I’m sure I’m going to pass out, but then he pulls me off.
Saliva strings hang from my lips, dangling from his tip. Tears spill from my eyes as I look up at him.
Why aren’t I mad? Why is this just turning me on more?
“Again,” he growls.
Yes. That’s what I want to hear.
I open wide and take him again, even deeper this time. I manage to force back the gag as my throat convulses around him.
“That’s right, angel,” he grunts as I taste his pre-cum. “I’ve wanted this all goddamn day. I spent all night thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock.”
His words are like golden punches, hitting me in the chest, causing my heart to pound like it’s going to burst.
I love it. His praise is like encouragement. All I want to do is more. Be better.
I bob my head, finding a rhythm that pleases him. Spit drips from my mouth and runs down my chin. But I don’t care. I want to be messy. I want to be ruined by him. I want to be so good at this that he never looks at another woman again.Ever.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he groans as his head tilts back. “You were made for this. Made forme.”
His praise turns my blood to warm honey. I suck harder. I even reach up and wrap my hand around the base where my lips can’t reach. He’s pulsing against my tongue. I feel him swelling, somehow growing even larger.
“That’s it. I’m going to come down your throat, angel.” His eyes lock on to mine. Intent, feral, fiery. “You’re going to swallow every single drop. Don’t waste anything I give you.”
