Page 11 of Take Me Slow


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“Ari, baby. I’m coming.” He tries to pull back so that he won’t come in my mouth, but I latch onto his thighs and savagely pull him deep into my throat as his hot seed spills inside of me.

As I said, I want it all.

Blaze’s explosive orgasm tastes just as delicious as I believed it would. I look up at him with a grin, swallowing my treats, and he looks at me, amazed.

“Whoa! What was that?” Blaze says, ribs constricting. He looks like he is having an out of body experience as his body continues to jerk and recoil from the sweetest tasting blow job I’ve ever given.

I giggle. “We’re just getting started, Big Blaze.”

“Oh shit, tonight is going to be wonderful. It’s the best night of my life already,” he says smiling. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

Blaze walks me down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once inside, he turns on the light and starts to make up his bed. I open my mouth to say something about helping him, and the doorbell rings, bringing our attention to it.

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask.

“No. Whoever it is, I’m going to tell them to get lost, so make yourself comfortable on the bed, and I’ll be right back,” he says, kissing me again.

“Okay,” I agree and sit on the edge of his bed. There isn’t much furniture, just the bed and a dresser, but his room is tidy.

I hear Blaze pad back up the hall and open the door.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” he asks whoever is on the other side.

“Nothing, just stopping by to get my clothes. What are you doing? You look like you just ran a marathon or something,” a man’s voice asks.

“No marathon, bro, but I am busy. I’ll get your clothes for you. Hold on,” Blaze returns to the room and grabs an outfit out the closet. It’s on hangers and wrapped in a clear bag. “Be back in just a second, baby,” he says, pecking my lips once more before he trots back up the hall.

“Here you go, Terry,” Blaze says, and I surmise Terry is a good friend of his from the way they are talking.

“Thanks, man. Are you watching that game that’s on now? It looks like our team is about to lose,” I hear Terry say. “Turn to it; it should be in the fourth quarter,” he adds.

“No, I’m not watching the game. I have better things to do with my time, tonight,” Blaze indicates, and the hint is obvious. “How about we catch up later?” he asks.

“Oh, I see. You got a woman back there. Is she fine?” Terry asks.

“What kind of question is that? You know she’s fine if she’s here with me,” Blaze says sounding cocky.

“That’s right. What was I thinking?” Terry asks, and then giggles as if his question is meant to be sarcasm. “You and that hooker from the other night didn’t get any jizz on my clothes, did you?” Terry’s trying to whisper, but I hear him.

I’m already eavesdropping, but that statement causes me to listen more intently. I get up and start walking toward the living room.

“I told you I wouldn’t get anything on your clothes, man.”

The front door creaks open. I step into the room to see Blaze running his fingers through his hair with one hand while holding the door open for his friend to exit with the other.

“Hi,” Blaze’s friend says to me, then turns to Blaze. “Wow, I can see why you’re putting me out. She is super sexy! Is this the girl you borrowed the suit for?” he asks.

“Are you trying to ask if I’m the whore he’s sleeping with for money?” I cut to the chase. I don’t like people that beat around the bush with their insults, so Terry rubs me the wrong way from the get-go. “If you’re trying to insult me, just come right out with it, why don’t you?”

“No, I didn’t mean it that wa—”

“Later, man.” The sound of Blaze’s voice lets me know he’s frustrated his friend is messing up our night. “I’ll catch you some other time,” he adds with a frown.

“Alright man, you don’t have to tell me three times. Have fun tonight,” Terry says, and I can hear the smirk in his tone. That along with the way he looks at me like I’m the trick for hire that I pretend to be.

Blaze closes the door without saying anything else to him.

“So, do you go out and hunt for prostitutes often while wearing your friend’s clothes, or was I your first? Please tell me I’m your first, so I can at least feel special in some way.” I don’t mean to sound hurt, or even upset, but I sound like a wounded animal when I ask that question.

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