“I thought…you wanted…me to transfer…the money?” I gasp out between kisses.
“Can you transfer these pants to the floor instead?”
She does an admirable job of that all on her own, freeing them and tugging them down my legs before chucking them to the floor. I was not from money, and seeing expensive clothing all balled up makes something rise in my throat, but then Stella starts pulling and tugging at my shirt until I have to sit up with the force of it or get strangled. With a grunt, she slips that away too. Her hands explore my chest again, and what freaking pants? I don’t know anything about pants. Or a shirt.
Unless it’s Stella’s pants, or her shirt, which she’s still wearing.
I reach for her, tucking my hand up under the hem of her shirt and brushing my fingers over the smooth, flat planes of her belly, but she pulls away with a devious grin.
“Oh no. Nope. You already had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”
She slips her hands under the waistband of my boxer briefs and tugs them down. She narrowly, and I mean narrowly, misses getting smacked in the face by my very hard, very eager, very happy joystick.
“Oh!” Her mouth opens in a super cute expression of shock.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” She rips my boxers down the rest of the way and pitches them to join the rest of my clothing.
“Uh, for my…uh, well…bad behavior. It has a mind of its own.”
Stella wraps her palm around my dick, and holy sky, holy pie, holy buh-bye, holy I think I might actually die. She watches me the entire time—my face, I mean—as she slowly runs her palm down the length of my shaft and right back up to the head. She makes a noise in her throat as she gathers some of the beads of arousal at the tip and smears them down my length. She slowly works me like that, her palm so tight that I just about leap out of my skin and shed it like a snake. The ensuing pleasure that rolls through me makes my balls, my toes, and my fingers vibrate.
The room is suddenly thick with desire and arousal. I want to reach for Stella, put my hands between her legs, and feel if she’s damp right through her jeans. But she’s too far away, though, and when I try to sit up, she presses her other palm flat on my chest and shakes her head.
“Nope. I said it’s my turn. I want to touch you, taste you. And I want to make you come so hard that you see stars.”
“You mean you actually saw them? You led me to believe it was only just alright.” I know it was more than that, but I want to hear Stella say it.
Naturally, she won’t. “I think my skills are vastly superior to yours.”
She lowers her head before I know what’s happening, and then her lips are on my cock, kissing me. Her tongue licks at my head while her hand works the rest of me, and I jerk like she just shot me in the forehead with an elastic band again. My gasp turns into a low groan, and I fist her hair, trying to drag her face away, but she takes me further into her mouth and rolls her sweet tongue over me. She strokes down my shaft, then up again, and I’m too weak to do anything other than melt into the bed and just enjoy it.
I promise myself that when I’ve regrown some bones in my liquified body, I’ll get her back for this and pay her back in equal measure. It only takes a few seconds of what she’s doing to my dick to make me focus on something else entirely, which is the fact that it would be ungentlemanly to do what she said and come so hard that I see stars. I think it’s a little early in the game for that—every aspect of the game.
Stella seems intent on proving me wrong, though. She uses her hand and mouth expertly, then takes me almost all the way to the back of her throat. My balls constrict dangerously, and bolts of pleasure tear through and sweep over me.
I have no choice but to lift her face away. “Stella…”
Her lips purse with a smirk. “Had enough already? You might be even more of a lost cause than I am, and that’s saying something.”
“What do you mean?” I don’t ask her playfully because I hear the raw edge of her voice.
“I mean, what you said before.” She looks around the room nervously while my dick continues to throb in her hand. It’s hard having a serious conversation while I’m in this position. She strokes her hand down slowly—all along the length of me—and blinks at me innocently when my body practically convulses in joy.