Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Nor was there in Rudy’s easy acceptance of the conversation. “It’s very sweet of you, Sophie, but I wouldn’t want to intrude further on your evening. You two have a good weekend.”
He and Neil shared an clumsy, drunken man hug, and then we went to the Maybach while Rudy took keys from the valet for a Maserati Granturismo.
As soon as we were inside the car, I apologized. “I’m sorry, that was really not cool of me to ask someone back to your place.”
“I’m just pleased that you got along so well.” Neil said, leaning against the corner of the seat and door. Rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger he added, “And I’m glad you feel so comfortable in my home, and with me.”
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, concern cutting through my inebriation. “You look super tired.”
“I have a bit of a headache. I think I might need to see the optician.” He blinked and forced a smile. “Let me stress, this is only a small headache, and not the proverbial ‘not tonight’ headache.”
“Poor baby.” The red wine with dinner had definitely gone to my head, as had round after round of after dinner drinks. I slid to my knees on the flat floor of the roomy backseat and climbed over to his side of the car. I leaned against his slightly spread knees and lay my head in his lap.
“Oh, this evening has taken a promising turn.” He laughed and stroked my hair away from my forehead.
“I never get to do this,” I moaned, sitting up to reach for his fly. I estimated we’d have about twenty minutes between the restaurant and his apartment in the current traffic, so I didn’t waste any time unzipping him and reaching inside.
“You could do it any time, you know. It isn’t by invitation only.”
“Most of the time, when we’re having sex, it’s kind of all about me.” My tummy fluttered when I realized what I was going to tell him next. “Why don’t we make tonight about you?”
“You don’t think I take enormous pleasure from getting you off?” he sighed contentedly as my hand slipped into his boxers to grasp him.
“I’m sure you do.” I pulled his cock free. He was half-hard and growing beneath my fingers. “I want that, though. I want to get you off. Tonight, your wish is my command. Nothing is off the table.”
“Oh?” He grinned like a delighted schoolboy. It was ridiculously cute. “You know my birthday isn’t until March, correct?”
I swept my tongue over my bottom lip and leaned down, brushing my mouth across the head of his cock. Then, with deliberate slowness, I licked him from base to tip with the flat of my tongue. My eyes remained locked on his, and my pulse sped up wildly. His did, too, I could feel it as I pumped my fist along his length. I fluttered my tongue against the underside of the head, along the seam between his glans and retracted foreskin, delighting in his sudden intake of breath.
“Happy birthday to me anyway, I suppose,” he groaned, dropping his head back.
Still stroking him with my fist, I rolled my lips over my teeth and took as much into my mouth as I could. I swirled my tongue around him, bobbing my head slowly, letting saliva run between my lips, coating him. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to savor this all night.
The truth was, I had been feeling a little... neglectful. After all, in most of the sexual relationships I’d had, a blow job had been one of the first activities we’d engaged in. I’d been sleeping with Neil for two months, and I’d done it twice. I don’t think I’d ever been on more than two dates with a guy before he was at least dropping mild hints for one.
Neil could have “ordered” me to do it at any time during our D/s sex games, and he hadn’t. Since it didn’t feel like an obligation, I found myself fixated on his pleasure not out of a desire to impress him, but a bone-deep need to make him feel good. I paid close attention to his body and his responses as I sucked, licked, and stroked. His hand in my hair, conspicuously never exerting too much pressure. His other hand on his knee, fingers clenching and unclenching in rhythm with his sped-up breathing. I pushed my head down, flexed the back of my throat against the head of him, and his hips jerked upward.
“Sorry,” he gasped as I gagged slightly. I lifted my head for just a second, to reassure him. “No worries.” Then I forced myself to relax and took him in, all the way. I have kind of a secret talent where cock in my mouth is concerned. “Fuck me, that’s incredible,” he moaned, and I was so, so grateful for all the practice I’d gotten on popsicles at summer camp.