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My balls were tight, and my cock strained for the woman in front of it.Like sheer will and perseverance would help it grow an extra few inches to get to her mouth.
She didn’t put her lips on me right away.She explored.She ran her thumbs along the veins of the shaft.Cradled my balls, gave them a squeeze.I stood like a redwood.Tall, erect, and not to be moved until my time was up.
When her lips brushed the tip, I groaned.“Woman, you’re killing me.”
“Sorry.”
I cupped her chin and ignored my obnoxious cock in her face.“There’s nothing to be sorry for.You’re killing me in the best way.I’m at your mercy.”
“I’ve been thinking about this.”
She’d been having wicked thoughts?Of me?I’d been daydreaming of holding her, kissing her, someday having people know that this magnificent woman had given me a chance.
“Show me what you’ve been thinking about.”It came out as a growl, but I was ready to beg.
Her eyelids drifted shut, and she sucked me in.A small hum traveled along every inch of my erection and sparked up my spine.
Her hot tongue was hesitant but grew bolder, and her fingers dug into my thighs as she pulled back and then pushed forward.I died a small death every time she took me into the sweltering depths of her mouth.The tug of her suction.The way her cheeks hollowed.Dark lashes sweeping down with her eyes closed.
It was just the two of us.Fully dressed except for my dick in her mouth.But it was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.This would keep me up at night.This would make every night I spent alone in my tiny rented bedroom on a borrowed twin mattress feel like eternity had come and gone and left me behind.
I didn’t want to be by myself anymore.I wanted to come home to my kids and Kenny.I wanted to come home to this.Not blow jobs specifically.I wanted to come home and talk, tell each other our problems, and then help each other demolish the stress of everyday life.
I clenched my glutes to keep myself from swaying.She pumped my base as she laved the tip.
“Fuck, Kenny.”It was getting harder not to move.
I clenched my fingers over her scalp but didn’t dig in.I held myself still.The last thing I wanted to do was stab her throat and choke her.
She worked me until I was shaking.My hands were rock steady in her hair and my feet planted firmly in one spot.The rest of me was a quaking mess.Because one woman had my cock in her mouth.
“I can’t—I’ve gotta—” I tried to warn her, but she hummed.Hummeddammit.
I couldn’t withstand the onslaught of ecstasy.I came, long and hard.And she took me.Humming.Holding me.I was putty, molded perfectly into her grip.
I sagged, and she released me.Cool air wafted over my damp skin.I wouldn’t be surprised if steam rose from where she’d had her mouth.She was about to get up.
“Stay down there.It’s your turn.”
Desire flared in her eyes, but she sat back.“You don’t have to.”
“We have time.”I’d make sure of it.
I stuffed myself into my pants, to hell with the zipper, and kneeled.I crawled over her, forcing her back.I kept going until her back hit the floor and I covered her.
I caught her lips with mine.She was hesitant to open, as if she worried the taste of me would be revolting.It turned on the caveman in my brain.That was me, and she was mine.
Mine.
And someday, maybe I would be hers.
Kennedy
Hattie tookus on a tour around the showroom.I’d never been to Haven Furnishings.Derek would cross his parents when it came to people in his life, but he’d balanced it by staying on their good side when it came to business.Barrons were forbidden from doing business with Hattie Garcia, thanks to Cameron.No one wanted Thanksgiving with a pissy Cameron.I’d been through one and could understand why.
Hattie ran her hand over elegant sitting room chairs.“These pieces are from a supplier in Glendive.She handcrafts the wood she uses for the frame and partners with a woman from Ethiopia for the fabric and designs.Her stuff is considered high end.I’m lucky to get pieces from her.”Hattie paused, shooting each of us a grin.“I can mark them up like no one’s business.It’s a good profit margin—for all of us.”
She paused at each section she’d created in the floor plan and told us about the designer, the builder, and how she’d met them.Her chin-length salt-and-pepper hair swung, and when she smiled, the right side of her face lifted higher, that eye squinting more.She also tilted her head, as if trying to even out the sides.A tic from childhood, perhaps, when a brash adult or unthinking kid had made a comment on the asymmetry of her features.
