Jock Road (Jock Hard) - Sara Ney Page 0,66

and up again. Slowly. Slowly. Up and down, again and again.

“Fuck, Charlotte. F-Fuck, fuck…”

His words are music to my ears. They’re a tribute to how good I’m making him feel—and I haven’t even done anything yet.

I stare at his junk for a few moments, studying it. I can see that it’s throbbing, involuntarily twitching the longer I look. I’m close, my hot breathing warming the tip. My tongue darts out so I can lick it. Flick it.

I watch his eyes flutter closed, his biceps flexing. Nostrils flaring.

Thighs clenching, too.

His whole body is tense, trying to gain some semblance of control, and I love it. I want him to lose it. I want him to…

I want to make him feel like he’s never felt before.

No amount of jerking off and masturbating is going to feel like my mouth on his cock, and we both know it.

I free his business up a bit more by yanking his pants and underwear down so they’re around his thick thighs, noting that everything about Jackson is big. Thick. Hot.

So beautiful and well put together, he’s a work of art that’s gone unappreciated for twenty-two years—and I plan to make up for lost time if he’ll let me.

I lower my head and…suck. He damn near jerks his ass off the mattress.

“Holy fuck!

I suck a bit harder, as best I can given the size of his dick.

“Charlotte, stop.”

I raise my head. “You want me to stop?”

“No! Yes. No, oh my god, don’t stop.”

“Okay.” I laugh.

I get back to it, deciding to enjoy myself (let’s face it, who actually enjoys having a cock jammed down their throat?), deriving all my own pleasure from the pleasure I’m giving Jackson. Hearing his moans and sighs and grunts and cursing.

It sounds like he’s being tortured.

Just as I begin to wonder how long he’s going to last with my mouth wrapped around him, his hands come down from behind his head and hit the mattress, grabbing fistfuls of comforter.

I’m not timing this, but it can’t have been more than five minutes.

“Shit, oh shit…” He’s mumbling, moaning. “Christ…oh god…”

Wow. I knew this would be easy, but I didn’t think it would be this easy. I’ve heard horror stories from my friends about guys taking half an hour to come from a blow job, which would be my worst nightmare.

I’d probably get lockjaw! God, wouldn’t that be a freaking train wreck.

“Charlotte…Ch-Charlotte,” Jackson mutters above me, lifting one arm, tapping me on the shoulder. “I’m…I’m gonna…”

He taps again, warning me.

But I don’t plan on spitting once he goes. He gets the full treatment, swallowing and all.

I’m no spitter—that would make me a quitter.

The poor boy deserves to come inside my mouth. His dick has been neglected for so, so long.

“Charlotte.” He sounds desperate in his attempts to get me to lift my head, to spare me from his sperm. Honestly, if it hits the back of my throat, who even cares? I won’t taste it.

I can’t explain this to him, though—by doing so, I’d have to lift my head and talk, and we can’t have that now can we?

Giving my head a shake, I let him know we’re finishing this together.

Jackson moans again—this time so loud, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, knowing someone in the house had to have heard. Moans again, head thrashing against the headboard.

Knuckles white. Rising from the bed, fingers flexing. Hitting the beddingmattress. Hips shaking.

It’s intoxicating, this level of control and making him feel this way. I’m the one giving him an orgasm—me.

He chose me to be his first.

Jackson comes as I suck, taking him as deep as I can so I don’t choke, waiting until he’s done trembling.

Pull back and glance up at his face; it’s flushed, hotter than mine. Eyes closed, his chest moves up and down, breathing labored like he’s just run the fifty-yard dash.

“Are you all right?” is the first thing I ask when his body stops convulsing.

It’s adorable.

He nods. Sort of?

“You sure?”

“Come here.” He spreads his arms wide, and I scramble to my knees. “Here.” Jackson pats his thighs.

I climb back on top, facing him, and he wraps those strong arms around my middle, pulling me close. Hugging me tight. Kissing the top of my head.

I lean back a bit so I can see his face, two sets of shining, glassy eyes. Jackson inches forward, kissing my mouth.

Opening mine, he deepens the kiss. Tongue.

Oddly, it’s romantic; this post-blow-job make-out session makes me feel close to him. The fact that he didn’t push me away or want