Eighteen (18)(49)

“Fancy,” I say. I hate flying, especially over the ocean. It freaks me out and no amount of posh first-class bullshit will change that.

“You may come in.” He opens the screen door wide for me and I step past him.

“I hope you have a f*cking dryer,” I say, peeling off my clothes. I’m getting f*cked today. That’s all I’m saying. I’ve been studying that little unit-circle trick all damn day. I practiced it in art while I was messing around with Photoshop making graphics for my website. I practiced it in PE when I was walking my laps. I practiced it in every class today. I even recited the angles and the radians to myself on the way over here. I’m ready for that test and I am getting f*cked.

I drop my clothes on the floor as I make my way to the kitchen and then stand there naked. “Where’s the test?”

“Sit,” he says, smiling like a fool.

“Mateo—”

“Sit,” he growls.

I sigh, but I sit.

“Today you’re going to learn how to memorize the trigonometric functions.”

“Oh, no, I’m not! Today I’m sucking your dick, taking a test, getting my * licked, and then you’re f*cking me.”

He almost laughs. Almost. “No, you’re working first.”

“That was not the deal.”

“I make all the deals, Shannon.” He takes my little red textbook out of my backpack and opens it up to chapter two. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet. Now look here…”

An hour later I’m still looking at that damn book, and I’ve got those functions memorized using his newest trick, but I’m tired now. My eyes are drooping and I’m not even horny anymore. “You’re not as fun as you first appeared,” I say, yawning.

He eases himself up on the counter of the island in the center of the kitchen and starts unbuckling his belt.

I get a little more interested.

He unbuttons and unzips, looking at me the whole time.

I smile.

He positively grins. “You did good. And you’re gonna take the first test, so you get to suck my dick until I come down your throat. But just so we’re clear, if you want to take a test tomorrow, you have to suck me at school.”

Jesus. Why does he say these things to me? It f*cking gets me crazy. I know I should be horrified, but I’m not. He’s turning me on. He’s turning me into a freak. “Noted.”

“Take me out.”

I smile so big my cheeks might crack. The last time I gave him a blow job here, I got so bothered by it, I came. Jesus. I ease up out of my seat and walk over to him. His eyes never leave mine. It’s like he’s more interested in what I’m thinking than my naked body. And that turns me on even more than his hulking cock under those jeans.

I reach for his boxer briefs and pull them down until I see the tip of his cock. God, he has a beautiful cock. The head is thick and perfect. I lick my lips and look up at him.

“Go ahead. If you’re so eager, just do it.”

I pull him out all the way, pumping him gently in my hand. His hand clamps over mine, squeezing. Making me squeeze harder. I lower my head into his lap and wrap my lips around him, sucking on his tip and then swirling my tongue around it like I’m licking a lollipop. His fingers dig into my hair and urge me to take more of him. I know he likes that deep stuff, and I’m not that good at it. But I try hard. I try my best to please him and I’m rewarded with a moan.

I moan too, my vocal cords humming against his shaft as he presses down on my head. I decide to just go for it. Fuck everything. I forget about everything but him. I take him in as far as I can, gag, pull back, the saliva spilling out of my mouth. But I dive down for more and this makes him pull my head away. He jumps down off the counter and stands in front of me.

“Kneel and put your hands on my thighs, Shannon. And don’t move them.”

It’s not an order. Not something I must obey. But the way he says it—well, it makes me want to obey. I place my hands flat against his muscular thighs as he gathers my hair in a ponytail, gripping it so tight, it pulls on my scalp.

“Look at me,” he says.

I do. I want nothing more than to look at him. His jaw is covered with stubble two days old. His green eyes are at half-mast as he gazes down at me. His dick is hard and right in front of my lips.

“Open,” he says. “I’m gonna f*ck your face and come down your throat.”

I open my mouth and he shoves himself inside so fast, his cock bumps up against my soft palate and makes me gag. But he doesn’t wait for me this time. He’s in control. He’s the one with the power. He pulls my head back by my hair and then thrusts me forward again, hitting that same spot. My fingers are clenched around the loose denim of his jeans as I force myself to give in to what he wants from me.

I never stop looking at him. My eyes are only on him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” And the he rams his cock again and again. I gag, and spit, and noises are coming from my throat that I’ve never heard before. But each time he thrusts, he moans.

I am doing it right, that’s what those moans mean.

The next time he hits my soft palate I wrap my lips around him tighter and suck, bobbing my head to his rhythm. Back and forth so fast, he loses control, stiffens, and then his warm semen is spilling down my throat.