I watch as his head slowly tilts right.
I keep my eyes on his face as I slowly drop his shorts. He doesn’t appear to be panicking, so I look down again. I have to pull the front of his shorts out and away to get them over his cock, and my whole body clenches as it’s revealed to me.
It’s glorious. Absolutely glorious.
Cocks aren’t always attractive things, but Rocco’s is perfect. It’s straight and long and thick, and as I drop to my knees to take his shorts the rest of the way off, I feel like I could start worshipping it at any moment.
With the shorts out of the way, I run my hands up Rocco’s legs but keep myself down on my knees in front of him. I don’t want to press my luck and go ahead to take the whole thing in my mouth right away, but I’m sorely tempted.
I reach up, run my hand over the underside once more, then wrap my fingers around it. My fingers touch as they circle him, but just barely. With my other hand pressed against his thigh, I stroke him up and down.
I can hear Rocco practically panting as I caress his cock, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve succeeded where no one else has before. I look up at him, raising an eyebrow as I smile and lick my lips. Rocco’s eyes go wide.
Chapter 5—Rocco
I think my whole body is in shock.
My eyes can’t seem to convince my brain of what’s happening. There’s a very attractive woman kneeling before me with my dick in her hand. She’s smiling at me, and I just can’t cope with all the sensations rushing through me.
I’ve never even come close to having anything like this happen to me before.
I’ve masturbated, sure. I was once a teenager, and I took myself into my own hands on a few occasions, but even that was never a regular occurrence. I’m not even sure when the last time would have been. Masturbating usually needs some kind of mental image, and those sorts of images are hard for me to conjure on my own. Looking at pictures of naked women or porn is not something I care for, and I never had much success using such things. Coming up with an original scenario on my own is nearly impossible, so I just don’t do it very often.
Now, I think my entire body, mind, and soul have gone into total overdrive. When she licks her lips, and I register the very idea of her tongue touching me there, I lose it.
My body tenses, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Everywhere her fingers touch, I can feel heat building like an unchecked fire through dry brush. I can’t think. The sensation is too much. Without warning, I gasp and moan. My legs quiver. A rush of sensation cascades from my stomach downward, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I come all over both Casey’s hand and the blanket
below me.
Oh, shit!
I want to run straight out of the building, naked or not, but I can’t go anywhere. My hands are secured above me, and for the first time ever, I want to start screaming out a safeword. Just tilting my head to the left won’t suffice. With no other option, I babble.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
If there was a worst-case scenario for any of this, I’ve achieved it. I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know what I was thinking even agreeing to come here tonight. Now I’ve made a bigger fool out of myself than ever, and I have nowhere to hide. Instead, I keep crying out.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Hey! Rocco! No!”
Casey reaches up above me and tugs on the rope bight, immediately releasing my hands. My legs give out, and I crumple to the mat below. Before I can get up and run, Casey drops down with a rope in her hands, quickly wrapping it around my shoulders and locking it off behind my back before she wraps her arms around me. I feel her hand between my shoulder blades as she grips the rope and pulls it taut.
The familiar feeling of the rope digging into my skin pulls me out of the panic, leaving me with just the embarrassment to deal with. Casey places her hand on the back of my head, pulling me down until my cheek rests against her breasts.
“I’m sorry!”
“Shh...shh...shh...” Casey coos at me, stroking my hair as she does. “It’s all right, Roc. It’s all right.”
I can’t stop the tears. Casey strokes my hair for a moment, then pulls at the braid until it loosens, and she can drag her fingers through the free strands while I continue to cry like an idiot. I close my eyes as she continues stroking my hair over and over until it’s lying across my back and shoulders, tickling my skin.
After a few minutes, I open my eyes, immediately drawn to the contrast of her pale skin against the sleek, black corset top she’s wearing.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”