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“I want to do other things to you,” she told me. “Things that don’t involve pain.”
“And what might those things be, Zoey?”
“It’s been two years,” she whispered. “Don’t you think you deserve a little fun?”
Then, without another word, she dropped to her knees in front of me. She reached for my belt and undid it. Then she unbuttoned my slacks and tugged the zipper down. By the time she reached my cock, I was already hard and ready for her. I was already anxious to see what she was going to do next. I knew in my brain what she was going to do, but it was still damn lovely to see her on her knees for me.
Zoey reached for my cock wrapped her hand around it, and then licked the tip.
“Mmm.”
That little groan she made was everything. It was everything I needed. It was everything I didn’t even know I’d been craving.
“Oh, pretty girl,” I taunted her a little. “I know you can do better than that.”
“Better that what?” She looked up at me.
“You don’t need hands for this.”
“Ah, you’re right,” she said. She placed her hands on her knees and spread her legs a little so she could move more easily. Then she reached out and licked me again. This time, she ran her tongue over the tip of my cock before sliding the entire length down her throat. She could take me, I knew. She turned out to be just as skilled as she had promised, and I watched as she moved her tongue over my cock. Her hands ran up my legs to my balls. She cupped them for a minute, massaging them, and then she reached for my ass. She pulled me closer to her mouth, shoving me deeper down her throat, and then she continued her sweet, wonderful torture.
I closed my eyes as I stood there, right in the kitchen with my pants unzipped like some drunk high schooler at a senior party. Who thought I would be doing this with Zoey Lane? I definitely never dreamed it would actually happen.
Soon I could feel myself nearing my orgasm, but I didn’t want to come like this. Not tonight. I wanted this to be about Zoey and what felt good for her. She looked like she was enjoying herself, but there were other things we could do, too. We had all night, and I planned to make the most of it.
“All right, you little minx,” I murmured, pulling her to her feet. Zoey looked a little dazed as I grabbed her hips and tugged her close to me. My cock grazed her tummy, and she looked down at it and wrapped her hand around it. She stroked me for a minute. Then I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her to the counter. She sat there, looking at me, and I stepped forward, so I was between her thighs.
“Are you going to fuck me right here?” She whispered, kissing me.
“No,” I laughed. “I’m not in any rush.”
“Then what are you doing to me?”
“Well, first,” I told her. “I’m getting out of my clothes.”
I wiggled the rest of the way out of my pants and boxers and kicked them aside before taking off my shirt. She watched as I undid each button slowly, taking my time. I loved the way her eyes raked over me as I revealed my abs. She reached out and ran her finger across them.
“You spend a lot of time at the gym,” she murmured.
“More than I care to admit.”
That much was true. After Debra and I broke up, I took the time to start taking care of myself. The idea that people always lost weight after a divorce or a serious breakup was true. When you were in a relationship, you were always too busy going to events or baking or ordering in for movie nights to work out. Once the relationship ended, it seemed like there was always an abundance of time to exercise and focus on your physical appearance.
“I’m still wearing clothes, David,” she whispered.
“I think I have a solution for that.”
“What is it?” Zoey asked breathlessly.
“Close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes, and I took a moment to just look at her. She was gorgeous there, spread out on the counter like a tasty meal I was going to devour. I reached for the straps of her dress and pushed them down. Her breasts were tucked neatly into a tiny pink bra. I traced my finger over her cleavage. She kept her eyes shut, as I’d asked her to, but her mouth formed a tiny “o.”
“You’re beautiful,” I told her.
It sounded cliché even to me. Somehow, telling someone how pretty they were right before you fucked them didn’t seem good enough or powerful enough. I wanted to say something better, something more clever and more romantic, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and I kissed her, claiming her mouth. She wrapped her legs around me, tugging me closer as we made out right there on the kitchen counter. I lifted her, carrying her out of the kitchen and over to the bedroom. Somehow, I managed to get the door open and I brought her inside. The windows were open, but I didn’t care. The moon cast a beautiful glow into the room, and with the bushes that lined the outside of my house, nobody would be able to see inside unless they were directly outside.
