rasped, and I realized that I’d never witnessed him being at a loss for words before. This kind of power was invigorating. “It was a verbal dissonance between us. I wanted you to call me Decker.”
“And now?” I asked before sliding my mouth over his hardened head, tasting salty precum on my tongue.
“Now, it’s kind of hot.”
I pumped him up and down, his cock hitting the back of my throat as I hummed. I used my lips as guards around my front teeth and pressed, adding to the pleasure. He held my hair and watched me, as if not wanting to miss the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of my mouth. “Fuck, Blakely.” The admiration in his tone, mixed with the slurping sounds escaping my mouth, was erotic.
He shifted his leg between mine and lifted up, hitting my throbbing center with his thigh, and I started grinding against him as I worked his dick. I’d never been the type of girl that enjoyed giving head. The act always felt so degrading and one-sided to me. But now I understood the appeal. There was power in holding the key to someone’s pleasure in your mouth.
I slid off and licked my lips. “You taste so good, Mr. Harris,” I said in a whimper.
“Fuck, don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Decker squirmed as I resumed giving him, in my humble opinion, the best damn blow job of his life. His muffled groans filled the room, and I knew the moment he was close. Could feel that rising twitch at the base of my throat as I dry humped his leg. He was right there on the edge. I coaxed his orgasm with a demanding hum, cupping the base of his shaft with my palm.
“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he said without asking for permission.
His cum shot out like ropes down my throat, and I swallowed every last drop. Then, I continued to slide up and down to wring out his pleasure for as long as possible. He writhed and moaned and sighed and bit his lip, tossing his head back on an oh fuck while arching his back.
It wasn’t until he started to grow soft that I pulled away. He clawed at my hips and tossed me down on the bed, ripping my shorts and panties off with greedy hands that were abrasive and rough. “My turn, punk,” he said before yanking my thighs apart and licking a straight, long, slow, intentional line up my center, pausing right before my clit. He wanted me to be on the edge of my seat, and I was.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked while lifting up. His hands pushed me back down into the mattress.
“I’m just enjoying the view, Blakely,” he replied.
Then, his mouth latched onto my clit, those plump lips wrapped around my nub as his tongue worked it over. The light flicking wasn’t enough, I needed him to press harder. “Don’t hold back, Decker,” I moaned.
He pulled away as I looked down at him. His lips were shining from the taste of me as his bright teeth molded into a grin. “I stopped holding back a while ago.”
And then he proved how much he was done denying this by swallowing my orgasm whole.
I rode his face like a champ, tugging at his hair as his conquering mouth feasted on me. And when I was done, he moved up to hold me close. We spooned on his mattress in post-orgasmic bliss as I listened to the steady breathing rattling around his chest. In and out. The constant homeostasis working without either of us thinking about it was comforting. I loved how normal this felt, but the idea that this was temporary kept flashing across my mind.
“What now, Decker?” I asked, hating the words that left my lips. I knew this conversation was necessary, but it felt like a knife in the chest of our new and budding acceptance of this.
“Now I’m going to hold you,” he replied simplistically, but I knew he was evading.
“And after that?” I asked.
“I can’t decide,” he replied in a sad, small voice, making my heart squeeze. “I don’t know if I want you to ride my face or fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
I wiggled against him with an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, Decker,” I chided.
“I know, I know. I’m just not ready for that conversation because it scares me.”