Page 100 of Blush Crush

His hand slides into my hair, gripping the strands. Not controlling but tight enough to know he likes me right where I am.

“Fuck, I knew that sweet little mouth of yours was going to look like a dream wrapped around my cock.”

I pull back and let a dribble of saliva roll down the corner of my lips.

“Spit on it,” he says through a ragged breath. “Make it yours.”

Gathering the moisture in my mouth, I do as he instructed and spit on his head. It’s the lewdest, dirtiest thing I’ve ever done and my thighs instantly press together trying to soothe the sudden ache there.

I spread my own spit around before taking him back in. This time with more confidence. His cock bobs in my mouth, and with each surge forward and back, I try to take more of him. I want him down my throat, I want to watch him come completely undone because of what I’m doing to him.

“Just like that,” he praises. “You like that fat cock in your mouth, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut on your knees for me.”

His dirty words encourage me to go faster, increasing my suction, taking him past where I thought I could. My lips are stretched to the point of burning. A burn that hurts so good.

I recall a girls’ night discussion about the importance of not neglecting the balls so I reach a hand over to cup his sack, gently rolling them around in my palm.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

Even through the off-spray from the showerhead moistening my body, I know my center is getting wetter. Needier.

My hands stack on his length as I dive my lips over him. Sucking, licking, swirling my tongue. I take him deep, gagging, my eyes watering. I’m giving him everything I can. I want him to be proud of me. To maybe even be impressed.

“Ariana,” he grits. “I’m going to come, baby. If you keep sucking me like that I’m going to fill up your mouth so pull away now if you don’t want it.”

Ignoring his warning, I keep going. Faster even. I want the full experience. I want to taste all of him. And I’m going to try my best to swallow it.

His hand fists my tangled soaking hair as our eyes meet through the mist. For a moment this doesn’t feel nearly as sexual as it is. It doesn’t feel like a lesson or practice or fake. It’s real. As real as it gets.

In the next breath, my mouth is flooded with his salty release. His grunts of pleasure are animalistic. The noises from his throat are unrecognizable, harsh and rough, and so, so hot. A sense of pride strikes me, that I’ve succeeded in turning this refined, polished, well-dressed man into a heap of pleasure.

Slowly, he withdraws his cock from my mouth and helps me to my feet. The bewilderment in his stare is unmistakable.

He studies me as his breathing starts to steady and I make it a point to not break eye contact as I swallow his cum in one gulp.

I liked that.

I liked it a lot.

The satisfaction in Cole’s expression is more than worth the sore knees.

He backs me up against the tiled wall and captures my lips in a devastating kiss. Some of his release still coats my mouth but he doesn’t seem to mind in the least. I get the feeling he might even like tasting himself on me if his moaning is anything to go by.

I wouldn’t have thought I’d be into something like that, but it turns out Cole is very good at changing my mind.

“That—”Kiss.“Was—”Kiss.“The—”Kiss.“Best—”Kiss.“Blowjob—”Kiss.“Of—”Kiss.“My—”Kiss.“Life—”Kiss.

He dots kisses all over my face and I can’t help but giggle, squirming in his hold. It’s odd how quickly we can go from hot and heavy to tender to laughing. It makes me wonder if it’s like this for everyone or if this is something rare. I worry it’s the latter. And I worry what it’ll do to me once it’s over.

“Come here.” Cole drags me to stand under the spray, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Let me actually wash you before we run out of hot water.”

“Are you going to get in?” Cole asks as he watches me stare at his bed, propped up against the headboard already under the covers.

I wasn’t sure what would happen after our shower. I thought he’d take me home. There’s no way he actually wants me to stay the night, right? That has to blur the lines of our agreement.

It does.

I know it does.