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I’m already rock-hard. I hear Gianna’s soft gasp when I slip my cock free, the warm air of the room ghosting over the wet tip, pre-cum already dripping down my shaft. Her eyes go large and round, and she stares at my cock in a way that makes it throb visibly, my arousal already far closer to the edge than it should be from displaying myself like this to her.
“It’s so big,” she whispers, and I let out a choked laugh.
“Make sure you tell a man that whether it’s true or not, and you’re well on your way to him doing whatever you ask.” I wrap my fingers around the shaft, pressing my fingers into the base for a moment to ease my arousal a bit.
“What are you doing?” Gianna leans forward, her tongue tracing along her lower lip, and my cock throbs again, more pre-cum pearling at the tip. “What’s that?” Her voice is curious, inquisitive, and I suck in a slow breath, worried that the intensity of all of this will tip me over the edge too soon.
“This is what happens when I get aroused.” I brush my thumb over the glistening head, letting her watch as some of the fluid drips down the shaft.
“Oh.” Her teeth sink into her lip again. “I think—there’s something similar when I—”
“Yes.” I bite the word out, utterly unable to listen to her describe her own arousal without either coming on the spot—which would be embarrassing—or crossing the room and pinning her back on that chaise. My fingers brush over the tip again, swollen and hot against my fingertips. “This is the most—sensitive spot.”Fuck. My toes curl, my thigh muscles so tight I’m afraid they might cramp with the effort it’s taking not to come. Gianna’s eager eyes on me, following my hand, her rosy lips damp as her tongue flicks out to brush against the edge of her full lower lip—it’s almost too much. I swallow hard, my jaw clenching as I brush a finger against the soft flesh just beneath the tip.
“Here,” I murmur. “If you brush your finger or flick your tongue right here—it feels incredible. Your mouth especially—if you have your lips wrapped around a man’s cock and flutter your tongue just here—” I brush my finger over it again, my cock throbbing in my fist as more pre-cum leaks down the shaft.
She wants to touch me. I can see it in her face, in the heat glimmering in her eyes, the way she’s leaning forward on the chaise. All I would need to do is say the word, and she would be on her knees in front of me, her sweet, hot mouth wrapped around me, ready to swallow the cum that’s on the verge of bursting out of me. I squeeze the base of my cock again, trying to slow down the pace of my oncoming orgasm, but it’s difficult.
“And if I just want to use my hand?” Gianna asks softly, her voice a little strangled, too, as if she’s just as aroused by this.God,I want to know how wet she is. I can almost feel it on my fingers, that slick, messy heat that I’d find if I slipped my hand into her panties.
“Everyone is different.” I clench my jaw again, breathing slowly, trying to hold back. “But this is what I prefer.” I begin to stroke, long, slow strokes, my palm rubbing over the damp head with each pass, down into the very base of my cock as I bring my fist down. “The same movement, over and over. Unless youwantto tease, to draw it out, and then you can mix it up.”
“Do you like that?” Gianna draws her lower lip between her teeth again. “Being teased?”
“It doesn’t matter what I like,” I grind out. I’m so desperately close, and as much as I know I shouldn’t be so close to coming this hard from stroking myself in front of a woman at my age. As much experience as I have, I’m almost past caring. Ineedto fucking come, and I don’t know how much more patience I have left in me for this. “This is a—general—lesson.Fuck—”
I hiss the last word between my teeth without meaning to as Gianna leans forward, her hands on the edge of the chaise, her tongue sliding over her lower lip again. All I can think of is how easily I could bend her over it, how quickly those pants could be around her ankles, her panties pulled aside so I could thrust into her.She’s soaking wet. You know she is. She would be so hot, so tight, so fucking good—
“If you have any other questions—ah—” I stroke again, pressing my fingers just below the tip, squeezing out another drop of pre-cum, and Gianna lets out a small, quick breath that feels as if it jolts straight through my cock when I hear it. “I’m going to come in a minute, and I won’t be able to—”
“Do I do the same thing with my mouth?” Her lips part, her eyes still bright and curious. “That—rhythm? How hard do I suck—”
“Shit.” My cock throbs, and I’m going to come. I can’t stop it, unless—
I jerk my hand away. For one second, I think I’ve ruined my own orgasm, that I’m going to explode anyway. My cock jerks and twitches, glistening in the light, the veins thick and standing out along the shaft. I feel the urge recede, the smallest bit, but I know it won’t be for long once I start to touch myself again.
“Everyone is different,” I repeat, trying to focus, tothinkthrough the impossible fog of lust. “But a hand and mouth together is good. It might take some—practice. Start slowly and build up the pace, and when you can tell he’s close, then keep a steady rhythm. Lips and tongue and fingers. It will take you time, but you’ll get the hang of it. And then, in time, if you can take it all the way down your throat—”
My cock throbs again, warningly, at the idea of Gianna deep-throating me. I swallow hard as her eyes widen even more.
“Mythroat?But how would I even—”
“Practice.” I can’t stand it any longer. I wrap my hand around my aching shaft again, knowing how close I am to the point of no return. “Most men will want to come in your mouth—or somewhere else. But if you don’t want—”
“Where else?” Gianna looks at me curiously, and I know this is it. I won’t get this sentence out without picturing what I’m about to say, and I’ll lose control.
“On—you. Your face, your breasts, your—”
Her mouth opens slightly, but I don’t see disgust on her face; I seearousal.She stares at me as I groan, my cock swelling and throbbing in my fist. “I’m going to—oh,fuck—”
I’m not sure I’ve ever come so hard in my life. The intensity of it washes over me like a tidal wave, one hand gripping the side of the chair as a burst of hot cum splashes over my fist, dripping over my fingers. I hear Gianna’s surprised gasp, the sound trailing off into something that sounds very much like a moan, and that only intensifies the sensation, spurt after spurt splashing over my fingers and hand as I tilt my head back, unable to do anything other than give myself over to the intense, overwhelming pleasure.
Gianna is breathing hard. I can hear her as I stroke my hand slowly over my cock, slick with cum, drawing out the last swells of pleasure before I take my hand away. When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me with a glassy-eyed look that tells me she’s turned on almost to the point of begging me to touch her—and if she weren’t so innocent, she might.
She’s a little less innocent, now.
Guilt follows the euphoria of my orgasm, so close and hot on its heels that one has barely faded before the other arrives. I reach unsteadily for the handkerchief I’d put in my pocket, one I’d intended to use to minimize the mess and forgotten all about, wiping my hand off on it before unsteadily tucking my softening cock back into my trousers. “Remember what you promised,” I tell her flatly, my voice going cold. I see the way she flinches at the sound, and that brings another kind of guilt, but she has to know this is the end of it. If she doesn’t, if she tries to ask for more—I don’t know if I can stop myself from touching her. I want to find out just how wet she is, to taste her, to teachherwhat it means to feel that kind of pleasure. It’s taking everything in me not to think about whether or not she’ll touch herself after I leave.
“I know.” Her voice wavers slightly. “I—”
