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“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now? Kneeling, ready to do whatever I ask of you? Your lovely blond hair flowing down toward the small of your back? Your creamy shoulders, the swell of your hips, the beautiful cleavage of your ass. You’re stunning.”
I bit my lip. “Thank you.”
The word “sir” sat right on my tongue. He had never asked me to call him “sir,” but I had done some research on Dominant and submissive relationships. Most Dominants required their subs to address them as “sir” during play. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but at the moment, saying it felt natural. Still, I would wait until instructed to do so.
“You may rise, Melanie. Turn to face me.”
I complied, the soft fibers o
f the carpet making an indentation on my knees. I turned to face my lover. He had already taken off his shirt, his boots, and socks. He stood, wearing only his jeans, his bronze chest glowing, the musculature of his abdomen a beauty to behold.
“We haven’t talked about a safe word yet,” he said.
I’d read about safe words. Most people in these types of relationships had them.
“I want you to say ‘red’ if you want me to stop. Like a red traffic light.”
I nodded.
“Say ‘yellow’ if you’re getting a little uncomfortable but you don’t want me to stop yet. Like a yellow light. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good.” He cupped my cheek, thumbing it lovingly. “Now, remove my jeans, Melanie. Then kneel and suck my cock.”
I looked down and fumbled with his belt.
He touched my forearm. “Look into my eyes. Look into my eyes as you undress me.”
Looking into his eyes didn’t seem like a submissive thing to do, but he was the boss. I glued my gaze to his, the smoke in his deep, dark eyes heating me. My fingers trembled slightly as I unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his jeans. I slid them over his hips, following with his boxer briefs.
His cock, so large and majestic, jutted out at me, and a pearl of pre-cum glistened on the tip. I licked it off of him, letting the saltiness sit on my tongue. I inhaled. So musky and masculine, so spicy and perfect. I stuck my tongue out again, teasing the head of his cock.
“You’re so beautiful, Jonah,” I said. And then I gasped. Was I allowed to speak?
He did not berate me. “You’re beautiful too, Melanie, but never so beautiful as when those ruby lips are around my cock.” He grabbed the back of my head, taking a fistful of my blond hair. “Suck me. Suck me hard.”
I had sucked his cock many times before, but his size was always hard to take. Still, I wanted to please him more than anything, so I wrapped my lips over his engorged shaft.
I slid my lips forward until the head of his cock nudged the back of my throat. Still I was only little more than halfway over his length. I would have to get better at this.
But his groans told me I was doing all right.
“Yeah, baby. Suck me. God, this is good.”
I slid my lips back, teasing the head once again, and then slid them forward, taking slightly more. I grasped him at the base, moving my fist with my mouth. I sank down upon him again, relishing his moans and groans. His hand was still wrapped in my hair. Still, he was careful not to move my head. I almost wanted him to.
I pulled backward for a moment and then used my tongue and lips to tease the underside, going down to his balls, nibbling and kissing. Again I inhaled his musky fragrance. Such a wonderful masculine scent. I nipped the inside of the thighs, giving him tiny kisses, and then moved back to his cock where I sucked him deeply once again.
This time he did grab my head and pulled me toward him. He was careful, though, and I didn’t gag. Above me, he groaned, moaned, urged me on, my name a sweet caress from his lips.
“Melanie… Melanie… Melanie.”
His whisper enchanted my ears, spurring me on to take him deeper, ever so deeper, into my throat.
He groaned above me and then pulled my head off of him.
“No, not this way.” He pulled me to my feet and slid his fingers between my legs. “Are you wet for me, sweet Melanie?”
