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I want to know what it’s like to see him untamed.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs.

“I want your cock so far down my throat that it chokes me. I want you to fuck my mouth until you can’t hold on anymore, and I want to taste your cum as I swallow it down.” Thank goodness for the glasses of tequila at dinner that are allowing me to speak my truth with no filter.

“Fuck, Ive,” he says, rasping my name again.

I tip my chin up, and his mouth falls to mine, picking up right where we left off—only this kiss is slower. More luxurious. Hotter.

I pull back from him and drop to my knees, and I unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans, and yank the zipper down. He helps, pulling his cock out and stroking it a few times, and my God, it’s a glorious, massive thing to behold.

He pushes the tip toward my mouth, and I open wide as my eyes connect with his.

I’ve never had penetrative sex.

I’ve also never given a blow job, and I’ve never received oral sex.

I’ve given two guys hand jobs, and those same two guys fingered me. I’ve used a vibrator a few times, and other times I’ve used my own fingers.

That’s it.

That’s the extent of my experience.

So I let him take the lead. I close my lips over him and wrap a fist around his base, applying pressure as he starts to move in and out of my mouth, fucking it just like I told him I wanted him to do.

He tastes warm and salty, and there’s a little sweet tang there, probably from his precum, as if he’s just as horny as me and can’t hold back.

His hand moves into my hair, guiding my head back and forth around his cock. He pushes into my mouth as far as he can, and I feel my eyes start to water as he cuts off my breathing—choking me just like I told him I wanted him to.

I close my eyes, and I hear his command loud and clear.

“Open your eyes.”

Our eyes connect when I open them, and his are so dark they’re nearly black. I realize with excitement and anticipation that he likes this. I’m doing something right.

An ache pulses down low.

The growly sound that emits from him as he pulls out so I can breathe again before pushing back in is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever experienced.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Look at that gorgeous mouth of yours all full of my cock.”

He reaches down to pinch one of my nipples, and he grunts at the feel of my tits in his hand. He lets go because of the height difference, and he pulls out of my mouth. “Spit on it,” he says.

I’ve never done this before, but I follow the command. I spit right on his cock, and I use my fist to spread my spit around.

“Yeah, just like that,” he says. “So fucking hot, my good girl.”

Oh, God. I love his words, his sexy mouth. The taste of him.

I’m freaking addicted to him. Already.

He pumps his hips toward me some more, and even if we never get to actual sex, this is a brand-new experience for me. It’s hot and raw and carnal, and I’m tempted to reach down to finger myself to the finish line.

But I want him to do it. I want to get close to the edge. I want to feel the pain of anticipation, the need, the want. And then I want him to relieve it with his mouth, his fingers…eventually, his cock.

He moans some more as he holds my head in place again while he pushes in. He curses, holding still, and he tips his head back, his neck corded as he holds in place.

And then he pulls back and really starts to move. He lets go with pure abandon and fucks my mouth, and it’s so visceral and raw. I can’t help but study his face as he keeps going, my fist moving in time with the rhythm of his hips, his hands in my hair.