AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If you decide at some point you do want to get off, you can shove me around if it helps.”
He grunts, but otherwise stays still.
“Also—if it helps—I’m just using you to come. I don’t like you very much either.”
“Sure you don’t,” he murmurs.
I wish his eyes were open because I definitely have a sneer ready to reply, but he keeps them closed, so I don’t waste my energy.
Instead, I wrap a hand around his cock, lifting it from his thigh and giving it a few tight pumps in my fist. His abs flex, and he hisses. Probably at the lack of lube. I lean in to take a sniff of him after spending a night in wool pants in the warm lobby. He definitely smells like a man. A man after a workout with traces of his last shower desperately hanging on, but slightly overwhelmed by musk. He’s not as well-groomed as I am—a dead giveaway he’s got a steady girlfriend he’s stopped trying to impress, but he’s not all that hairy either. It’s all very—masculine down here.
And jarring. My dick is hard, but it’s also confused. Vaguely repulsed and threatening to flag one moment, and then overwhelmed with the turn-on of doing something it once considered forbidden—out of the question. It’s curious, I guess, the same way I’m curious.
Wetting my lips first, I lick a stripe over his slit with the pointed tip of my tongue. His softness affects me first. His velvety crown is even smoother and softer than my favorite part of a woman—the underside of a breast. The slit itself is tempting, too. I prod it with my tongue, widening the opening slightly and making his hips jerk in what I’m guessing is discomfort. I lick another stripe, and he relaxes again, letting out a long sigh.
With a slow but firm pumping motion, I work my fist over his shaft while I continue to taste and tongue his crown. I trace the graceful curve that serves as a demarcation line between his cockhead and his length. I do this repeatedly because it feels good to me. I’ve always been a texture person.
Once he’s slick with my saliva, it’s even more fun to run my tongue back and forth.
“What are you doing?” he grumbles, almost conversationally.
“Just waiting for you to get hard, Jack.”
He grunts and says no more.
Now that I’m basically drooling, I wrap my mouth around his entire crown, making out with it like it’s a woman’s clit. If I could push my tongue inside him I would—it makes the ladies go wild, but all I can do is wish and want and probe that tiny opening because I like that he doesn’t seem to care for it much.
Or maybe I just want his hands around my neck again.
Even a hair pull—I’d take it.
Look, I’ve never thought I’d be into pain. I was beyond coddled as a child. My tears were never mocked. I was never told to man up. In fact, I got even more attention when I cried over a boo-boo which made me prone to waterworks at an early age, so I don’t know what appeals to me about Drew’s brand of abuse. I’ve never once connected pain with pleasure. If I get so much as a leg cramp during sex, I won’t hesitate to take a break and make a position change.
Maybe I like the way I look with bruises on my neck.
It’s possible I’m just shallow like that. I also like that they really, really bug Elodie. I told her last night it was a rash from my aftershave.
Tomorrow, I’ll probably tell her I’ve been diagnosed with hemophilia.
I’ve considered, in my downtime, giving myself bruises elsewhere, but like I said, that would hurt. I’m not into that kind of pain. I don’t even manage my own hangnails. There are professionals for that.
The vein that runs up Drew’s cock is pulsing with a faster beat. Without stopping the intrusive kissing of his head, I shift my attention to his shaft, pleased to note it’s not so soft anymore. I twist my fist on my next upstroke, and his abs flex again. I’ve barely taken my eyes off him once. He has yet to lift his head or arms from the sofa, but I’m content to let him bask in his denial.
Now that he’s sporting a semi, I change tactics, crouching lower to attend to his hairy balls. This is where he’s muskiest. The dark, heady scent shouldn’t turn me on, but has me finally reaching for my own cock.
I hold his dick out of the way, my fist still giving it slow, twisting strokes, and I inhale deeply.
“Mmph…”
My brows lift. He liked that?
Wonder what he’ll think about this…
I wrap my lips around one of his nuts and suck it into my mouth, gently—very gently—tugging as I swirl my tongue around it, soaking it with my spit. That’s when the first shot of pain slices through me. He’s gripping my curls at the roots, pulling hard. I jerk myself harder, quicker. Yes.
I have to fight to switch to his other ball, but his breaths are audible now. “Bullshit you’ve never sucked a cock,” he practically seethes.
I want to tell him I haven’t even begun to suck his cock yet, but my mouth is full, and I’m kind of in the headspace where I wouldn’t have it any other way.
