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Charlotte
I come up on my knees and kneel on the bed in front of Harley. He stands beside the bed and dips his head down to kiss me, and I feel warm and tingly everywhere. I love how he kisses me and seemingly can’t get enough.
But I have to pull away and open my present.
“I’ve never done this before, so be patient,” I tell him.
“You’re good. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he says as I fumble with the waistband of his underwear. With his fly hanging open, the bulge is more prominent, pushing against the material. I’m so close to touching a penis for the first time I have to keep from freaking out or worse: laughing from the sheer nervous energy. I unbutton his fly and then, very carefully, lower the zipper. My eyes go up to meet his gaze, and I let myself savor the moment, running my hands over Harley’s abs, up to his chest, where I run my fingertips over the wing tattoos on each pec. I let my fingers drift up over his traps, his strong shoulders, and then down over each nipple.
His skin is smooth and soft over hard, tense muscle everywhere I touch. His eyes go hooded, and his jaw tics as I run my hands all over his skin.
“Am I going too slow, Harley?”
“You’re fucking perfect. Everything you do is perfect,” he grits out.
I have to stifle a giggle. Yeah, right. I know I’m making him a little crazy; there’s something so heady about that.
My whole body shivers as my touch roams back down to where his jeans hang open, barely hanging off his hips. I can’t believe my first encounter with a man’s penis will be this one. Harley Wood’s legendary hog is mine.
Hooking my thumbs into his jeans and underwear, I tug everything down.
Harley’s cock springs free, dark pink, and upright. I don’t know what I expected for my first sighting of a man’s business, but wow. Wow.
Everything I heard was an understatement.
Harley is long, thick, and uncircumcised, with a dark vein standing out in relief from the root to the crown. I find myself oddly taken aback that this erection isn’t simply standing erect and motionless; it pulses faintly but evenly. It moves with Harley’s movements as he kicks his clothes away. And what did I expect, the Washington Monument?
The tip is slowly seeping with pearlescent beads of precum, and the sight of that has my body reacting in surprising ways. I never, ever, ever liked the idea of taking a penis into my mouth. But now I want to, sort of. I’m fascinated by its size and shape of it. I want to feel the heat of it in my hands and in my mouth. I fantasize about what it would be like to feel him explode down my throat. And what then? Do I swallow? What if I don’t like the taste? Would he be offended if I brushed my teeth afterward?
Harley’s hand on my cheek draws my attention upward.
“Where did you go just now?”
I smile. “In my head.”
He chuckles. “You want to touch it?”
“Can I?”
“Please, Charlotte,” he seethes.
Deciding to stay out of my head, I go for it and take his cock in my hands. Just as I imagined, it’s warm and hard, but the skin is shockingly soft and pliant over top of the steely length. I circle my fingers around the width of it, and my thumb and middle finger do not meet, which makes me tense up internally.
Just go with it, Charlotte. He’ll make it okay. He’s a good man. You chose wisely.
I stroke up and down, exploring every ridge, running my thumb over the prominent vein on the underside.
“Too…too light,” Harley grunts.
Without thinking, I lean forward and take the tip in my mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers in my hair.
I swirl my tongue around the tip, carefully nudging the foreskin as I lick off the bead of precum. Salty. Warm. Not bad. Not at all bleachy like some of the magazines warned me about. I decide that, yes, I could swallow. I pull my lips around my teeth and hollow out my cheeks, just like Emma explained to me once while we went on a tangent during book club.
A curse rips out of Harley, and a second later, I’m on my back, his hands pinning down my arms against the mattress. A vein stands out on Harley’s forehead, and he looks angry.
“Not that. Not yet,” he rasps.
