Six(6)

Baby steps.

One of my hands wrapped around the base, stroking it as I bobbed up and down.

Turned out giving head was like riding a bike—a little intimidating at first, but once you got going, muscle memory kicked in.

“Enough,” he said through heavy breaths.

I pulled back, twirling my tongue around the head as I pumped his shaft. “You don’t want to come?”

“Oh, I do,” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back onto the bed, “but I want to come inside you first, then I can splatter you with my paint.”

Fuck.

Charismatic, confident f*cker with a panty wetting mouth. My hand slid down my abdomen, over my panties, and pressed against my clit as my legs fell open.

He slapped at my hand and I pulled it back, giving him a pout. All it did was make him smirk down at me.

“No touching yourself.” Reaching down, he tore the thin fabric from my body and tossed it on the floor. “I’m going to make you come.”

Fuck, yes, he was.

The bed dipped as he climbed on, settling between my thighs. He looked up, our eyes locking as his tongue flicked against my clit.

It felt like an electric charge pulsed through me, making my body jerk away from the intensity. His arms wrapped around my legs, holding me in place.

“Stay,” he flicked his tongue out again, running it up my slit, “put.”

I actually feared for my sanity, if I would have a mind when he was done. Driven crazy by the touch of a man.

A loud moan slipped from me as his mouth closed over my *, alternating between licking and sucking on my clit. The intense feeling made my * clench, dripping as it begged to be filled.

Yanking on my bra cups, I freed my breasts and my strained nipples. Light pinches and fluttering touches increased the euphoria pumping through me. My hips rose, writhed against his face, riding him, taking my orgasm from him. One he denied me as he sat up and moved to loom over me, cock in hand.

So f*cking close. I glared at him, but that sly smirk was back on as he moved up, the tip of his dick trailing up, tapping against my skin until the hot head landed on my clit.

“Condom?” I asked just as his hand moved between us.

His eyes cleared for a brief second. “Shit. I don’t have any.”

My mind was all over the place, but important questions needed answered. “Clean?”

“Took a shower this morning,” he said as he moved again to position himself.

I smacked my hand against his chest, and he chuckled.

“Don’t laugh. This incredible feeling isn’t worth some STD.”

“Yes, I’m free of any and all diseases.”

I twisted and reached down to the floor and pulled up my purse. Good thing I’d remembered to grab a few condoms for just in case.

After tearing one off and handing it to him, I set the rest on the bedside table. I had a sneaking suspicion we weren’t going to be done after one round.

It was so hot watching him roll the condom on, inch by inch by so many inches until it couldn’t go any farther.

“Fuck, you’re big.”

He smirked at me, rocking his hips against my slit, making me shudder as he lubed up. I craned my neck up and he dipped down, hungry mouths meeting again. I rested my hands on his waist, helping me to lift my hips in time with his thrust.

So turned on I ached and burned, and every stroke against my clit gave me goose bumps.

“Let’s see if it fits,” I whispered with a smirk.

No words, no witty retort, just a possessive touch and a large cock forging a path into my underused *. The feeling was so intense my body shuddered and exploded. I shook beneath him, clamping down around him.

“Did you just come?” he asked, the surprise evident in his tone.

I whimpered and nodded as I convulsed in his arms.

“Damn, I’m good.”

“There’s that cockiness,” I said through harsh breaths.

“Nope, you’re just upping my already high confidence.” He pulled out and slammed back in, then fisted my hair, tilting my head back as his teeth scraped against my neck. “Let’s see if I can do it again.”

There was no room to argue, no dispute, just a long keening from me as he slammed his cock into me. Fast, hard strokes to my still spasming *.

“Your * wants to come again. It’s squeezing me so tight,” he whispered against my ear.

“Fuck.”

He pulled out and slammed back in. “What is it you think I’m doing?”

“Harder.”

He smirked. “As you wish.”

I asked for hard and he gave it, along with fast and pounding. Obliterating my *, blissed out and shaking as I came again.

A few more insanity making strokes before he let out a low groan, his hips jerking as he erupted.

Our breaths mingled, another kiss, soft and sensual as his strength gave out.

“Don’t think I’m done,” he said against my neck.

“No?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

He made a humming sound. “No. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk out of this room.”

Fuck. Me.





Three hours of sleep was not nearly enough before a ten-hour shift. My own fault for f*cking a guy all night. I was paying for it in many ways. Walking was difficult, my thighs sore and weak, and there was a nonstop, pulsing ache in my *.