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I had to hold back the reflex to gag when the tip of his cock nearly reached the back of my throat, but he seemed to know how far to push it without making me actually gag. After a few seconds, I relaxed a little, trusting him not to make me throw up.

I let my neck go soft and stopped pumping my hand. I let him use me, thrusting his hips against my face and breathing hard now. I could feel myself getting insanely wet, even though I’d always thought of blowjobs as the sort of thing that were for the enjoyment of the man and the man alone. It made me wonder if he’d enjoyed going down on me this much. I certainly hoped so.

Without warning, his grip on my hair went painfully tight and he stopped. A warm rush of something came in my mouth, making me pull back in surprise. A second burst of hot liquid hit me across the nose and lips, dripping to my chest.

I blinked back surprise, realizing what had happened a second later.

Tristan stroked my hair, smiling down at me, almost proudly. He ran his thumb across the line of semen on my face and stuck it in my mouth, waiting until I sucked it clean and swallowed. His cock twitched when I did.

I chewed my lip, then ran my tongue across my mouth, cleaning up the last of remnants.

Tristan stood me up, then grinned down at my chest. “If anyone asked, you can just say you sneezed on yourself.”

I looked down and groaned. There was a small spot of it on my chest. I did my best to rub it away, but it sank into the fabric, leaving a little circular reminder of the absolute insanity I’d just participated in. My heart was still pounding.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I know.” Tristan smirked. “I was sure you were going to tell me to go fuck myself.”

“That was an option?”

He laughed. “You knew it was.” His voice lowered to a raspy whisper as he pulled me in to him, pressing his still hard cock between us. I felt a dirty longing for it—to reach down and touch it again, to ease it into myself and feel that wonderful fullness again with him. “You enjoyed that as much as I did. I bet you’re absolutely dripping right now.”

I pushed myself back. My idea was to casually tuck his penis back into his pants, but it was a little more difficult to manage with the size of it than I’d anticipated. I struggled with it for a few seconds, before realizing I had to pull his boxers far enough forward to slide it in through the flap. Then I zipped up his pants, buttoning them with a shy smile. “That’s a mystery you’re going to have to live with.”

Tristan laughed. He ran his thumb across my lower lip, planting another kiss there. “For now.”30TristanIt was a refreshingly pleasant day, especially after all the scorching hot ones we’d had this summer. I waited outside Kennedy’s house in a collared shirt and a nice pair of pants. The goal of this little operation was simple. I needed to win her mom over.

I’d been letting my mind wander during history class the other day and couldn’t help thinking how many similarities there were between dating and war. You could storm a city with a superior army and occupy it. But it wasn’t a game of force. If you destroy the city in the process of taking it, then all you’re left with are the broken ruins. The goal to claiming something valuable is to leave it intact.

But even after that valuable asset is in your hands, you still need to win over the hearts of the people, or it’ll never last.

At least, this was all according to my teacher. Mr. Snyder. As far as I saw it, the people were Kennedy’s mom. As long as she was hostile to me, I’d never truly have Kennedy. We’d always be sneaking around. Always one parental blow-up away from sabotage.

So, tonight, I was bringing the heavy weaponry. Manners. Good manners were about as natural for me as wearing dresses, but I could fake it well enough.

Kennedy answered the door in her wheelchair. It was a little strange seeing her in the chair because I’d been seeing her out of it so much more often now. I gave her a coy smile, tapping the side of my nose before bending down to hug her.

She rolled her eyes, then invited me in.

Her mom was waiting by the kitchen table with a wary look on her face. “Tristan,” she said.

“Miss Stills,” I did my best, I’m not sleeping with your daughter smile and walked over to give her a hug.

She stiffly returned the hug. “Tea?”

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