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“No, I don’t. Not really.” Her blonde hair sways as she shakes her head. “Besides, it’s not like we’d be doing anything we haven’t already done.”
My dick strains behind my zipper in agreement.
“I’m not going to touch you,” I repeat.
“Fine. Touch yourself. If that’s all you can give me, I want it.”
Her tone is part curious, part daring, and it has my hands tugging open my jeans before I consciously make the decision to give in. Once I realize what I’m doing, I don’t have the willpower to stop. I could blame that on the way her hooded gaze tracks my every move, but the truth is I want it, too. And in my warped mind, I can even justify it if I hold to my no touching rule.
Shoving the waistband of my boxers beneath my balls, my cock springs free. Tiff’s eyes widen as it comes to a rest, pointing tall and proud toward the sky. Her hand stretches forward tentatively—with both of us on the couch she’s within reach—but I grip it in my fist before she can make contact and shake my head.
“Can I assume if you don’t know how to give a blow job you don’t know how to jack a guy off, either?” I pump my length, long and slow. A pink flush creeps up her cheeks as she nods her head, so I narrate what I’m doing as I squeeze my shaft. “Okay. Well, every guy is different, but for the most part a firm grip is key. You can stroke all the way from root to tip, use shallow pumps. Or a combination of the two.”
I sound like I’m giving a damn public service announcement, although I like the idea that giving instructions makes this less taboo.
Tiff’s eager eyes follow my fist. “Fast or slow?”
“Depends on the situation. If you’re trying to make him come… fast. If you’re trying to build anticipation… slow.” I swipe my thumb over my leaking crown as I work myself with ungodly restraint.
“And that?” Tiff licks her lips. “When do I touch the tip?”
“Anytime you want.” I let go of my shaft and tease my finger over my slit. “It’s pretty sensitive, so some guys prefer gentle, others rough.” My dick twitches, begging to be wrapped up in my fist again.
“I like the way your cock moves even when you aren’t touching it. Sure you don’t want to put it inside a tight pussy?” She cocks her head to the side with a devious little grin.
“Fuck. I really wish you didn’t remember everything I say.” A groan rumbles from my throat as I grab myself again, my words in her mouth threatening to make me lose all control.
“Well?”
“What I want and what I have to do are two separate things.” I say through gritted teeth.
“What do you want?” It’s practically a whisper, but even that I can’t resist.
Closing my eyes—as if that will somehow absolve me of what I’m about to say—I lean my head against the back of the couch. “I want to feel your hot little mouth wrapped around my dick like you suggested a few weeks ago. And I want to bury my cock inside your wet sheath, rutting into you until you quiver around me and come with my name on your lips. But I…”
Fuck. My head snaps forward as my eyes shoot open to find Tiff crouched between my legs, tongue swirling around my tip. “What are… We can’t… Oh fuck.” My head falls back against the cushion as she wraps her lips around me and sucks on the head of my cock, and I’m helpless to do anything but let her.
My head screams at me to stop, but my dick isn’t listening. It’s too consumed by the wet heat surrounding it, and I’m too enamored by the vision of Tiff’s sweet mouth closing around it to say no.
She works me tentatively at first, exploring. Flicking her tongue over my slit, swirling it around the head. And sucking gently, causing my hips to chase her mouth when she pulls back.
“Why are you moving?” She looks up at me with a worried frown.
“Cause you’re fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth,” I growl.
“I’m not trying to. I’m just working up to swallowing it.”
Fuck me, that’s going in the spank bank. Also, I wonder if she could. No, I can’t encourage her.I tighten my grip on my dick and clench my thighs together in an effort to stay still.
“Move your hand,” she tells me.
“No.”
“But it’s in the way.”
“You aren’t ready for that. Plus, this feels less wrong if I’m holding it.”
“I’m doing it wrong?” Her lip quivers.
