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She doesn’t answer my question. Instead she asks another. “What about drinking?”
“What about it?”
“Do you often get drunk off your ass?”
I shrug. My cock throbs in her hand. “Sometimes. Don’t need it when you’re here.” And ain’t that crazy?
“Good.”
Her hand clenches around my dick, and a long moan leaves my throat. “Christ, you’re killing me.”
“How do the piercings feel when you get a blow job?” She moves down my body and licks the tip of my cock as if it’s her favorite cherry popsicle.
“Ugh.” My mouth won’t work. My brain is exploding. Am I supposed to answer?
“I guess we’ll find out,” she says and swallows my cock, taking it deep.
Shit, so fucking good. She sucks on me, swirls her hot tongue on the underside, then pulls up licking the head and the small slit there. She takes me deeper again, her tongue playing with my piercings, and my hips come off the mattress.
Oh yeah, baby. Damn. I won’t last five seconds. My balls lift and tighten, my dick swells and throbs in time to my racing heartbeat.
I’m not in control, I realize. I’ve given it up to her. And she’s taking care of me. I reach down, stroke her hair off her face, and she winks at me. Her mouth curves into a smile, wrapped as it is around my cock, and my vision grays.
I distantly hear myself groan, see my hips lift and jerk. Feel the cum shoot from my balls out my dick, burning me with pleasure. Feel like I’m falling, or flying, or hovering in space.
When it’s over, after what feels like ages have passed and the world has resumed spinning, I lie there, panting like a lizard on a hot rock, my body boneless and heavy.
Dakota is kneeling on the bed, eyeing me. I have to say something. Anything.
“That was…” I lick my dry lips. “That was fucking awesome.”
And I mean it. Never felt anything like it.
“Because of the piercings?” She sits there, totally naked, sexy as fuck, and she’s asking me this?
“Hell no. That was all you, babe.”
She cocks her head to the side, smiling again. “Babe?”
Oh shit. Slipping again. Me, giving cute pet names to my girl?
And there it is. My girl. Girlfriend. Lover. Friend.
“Come here.” I reach for her, and she crawls up to curl in the crook of my arm. She tilts up her face, and I kiss her, powerless to resist.
“Come here, babe,” she mutters on my lips, and I laugh.
Can’t count how many times she has made me laugh in these last days. More than I have in months.
“My babe,” I whisper, and she captures my lips in another kiss.
I’m still flying high. It’s warm and bright up here, and I don’t wanna look down. Those alarm bells? Let them ring inside my head. I don’t care.
I’ll take my chances.
It’s Wednesday, and work at Damage Control is slow. One of my customers calls to cancel, and I go out for a smoke. I send Dakota a text, asking how she’s doing, but get no reply. She was busy with a graphics project when I left home this morning.
Home. Yeah, it’s starting to feel like home now, more than ever. The thought of finding another roommate is impossible. I want to ask her to move in with me. Maybe tonight, after dinner.
