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Until that last twenty pages I’d read that depicted the most realistic sex scene I’d ever read in my life.
Now I was hot, horny, and lying next to the world’s sexiest man.
A man who’d kicked off the covers and was lying, in all his naked glory, right next to me.
I’d at first been reclining against the headboard, but had quickly changed positions when I realized how easy it was to see Ian’s cock.
When I’d changed positions, I’d laid on my belly and had propped my Kindle up against the headboard, but quickly halted when Ian’s big, huge, sexy body rolled over and pinned me to the bed.
Now I’d been lying in exactly the same spot for way too long, and I had what amounted to a proverbial flood in between my thighs.
With nothing else to do, I read, and continued reading until I hit about halfway through the first sex scene of the book.
I’d stopped because Ian’s cock had started to rise.
The moment I’d shifted, he’d rolled, exposing that long, thick member to my curious eyes.
And I’d died.
Or, at least, it felt like I had.
I’d been with three men in my life, and none of them had a cock like Ian’s.
Ian’s would make a porn star proud, and it was a cock that should be molded so that tens of thousands of dildos could be produced in its likeness to memorialize its magnificence.
Yes, it was that good.
Slightly more tan than the rest of him, his cock was long—nearly nine inches or more if my guess was correct—and as thick as my wrist.
Granted, my wrist was on the daintier side, but the man’s cock was anything but dainty.
He wasn’t Coke can thick, but I’d definitely say it was beer bottle thick.
That thing would be a brute getting inside of me, especially since I’d never experienced anything quite like Ian’s cock.
The purple tinted mushroom head of his cock was pulsing, and the veins that ran along the large...
“Are you going to stop staring one of these days and actually do something about what you’re feeling?” Ian asked, amusement tinging his words.
My eyes shifted over to his face, and I blushed profusely as I realized he was awake and watching me.
“It’s like a train wreck,” I breathed.
“What makes you compare my dick to a train wreck?” he questioned, leaning up slightly onto his elbows.
I licked my lips involuntarily and replied with, “Because I can’t help but look at it. Just like when you pass a train wreck. You can’t help but look despite knowing that you shouldn’t.”
“What makes you say you shouldn’t be looking?” he persisted.
I cleared my throat and leaned forward, scooting until our thighs touched.
“It’s a bad idea to make this even more complicated than it already is,” I said, my hand reaching forward.
He leaned forward as well, and soon I found myself with a handful of Ian’s cock.
His hot…soft…silky… pulsing …cock.
I licked my lips again, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ian’s eyes become hooded.
“Fucking is not going to make this any more complicated,” Ian said, his voice rough with something I couldn’t place quite yet. “In fact, it might very well uncomplicate this.”
I leaned forward, and suddenly found myself on my knees, my mouth only inches from the tip of him.
My eyes found his, and I just…gave up.
Stretching my tongue out, I licked the small drop of pre-come that beaded at the top, wondering idly whether it would taste good.
I’d had bad experiences with the taste of come, and to my pleasant surprise, Ian tasted scrumptious.
I swallowed his cockhead whole, and closed my eyes as a moan slipped out of my throat.
Ian’s large cock trapped the moan before it could become audible; Ian felt it rather than heard it.
Which was all that mattered.
His hands came up to my head, sifted through my hair for the barest of seconds, and then disappeared to the bed where he clutched the covers on either sides of his hips.
I laughed at the amount of control he was able to hold on to.
Smiling inwardly, I started to lick his cock like a melting ice cream cone.
One lick up one side, curve around the top, and back down the other.
Round and round I went, sucking, licking, and tasting all that was Ian.
Before long, his hands were fisted so hard that I could hear his knuckles cracking with each downward lick.
“Take me into your mouth!” he demanded hoarsely.
I hummed in approval, and finally took him fully down my throat. So fucking deep that my throat felt like it was stretched to its limits.
“Ah, God,” he groaned. “Fuck.”
I pulled my mouth off of him and sat up to my knees.
The moment I was free of him, he pounced, hitting me bodily and throwing me back onto the bed.
“Lay there. Stay still.”
I did as asked, not because I wanted to, but because he made me.
