Gently, very gently, I take his veined rod in my left hand. It responds with a dribble of something clear and a little watery. And though this is my first time, though I know literally nothing about sex, a hundred million years of biology tells me that’s a very, very good thing.
“Tell me what that was.”
He laughs a little. “Pre-cum, baby.”
“Pre-cum,” I repeat back.” Looking up at him, I carefully clean the drop from the head. God, he tastes amazing. And I’m so surprised at how delicate the skin of the head is. So smooth, so soft, so tender. And yet so utterly powerful, too.
“Fuck. I have thought about this for so long.”
“For how long?” I ask, gently toying with his cock, kissing and licking and pressing the shaft against my cheek.
His eyes flutter, and his expression changes. “A year. Tops. I’m not some fucking creep. Just so we’re clear.”
I never thought he was. Never thought that at all. “A year is a long time.”
He nods slowly and strokes his dick a few times. “Tell me about it.”
The way he talks, the feelings I can feel underneath his words. His power, his intensity. This is not a boy with a crush on me, stealing kisses between movements in Mozart’s Second. This is a man. This is Mike.
And the way he makes me feel, it’s the difference between a flutter and an earthquake. This raging, smoldering unbearable need to give myself to him. To have him make me his.
To belong to him. Now and always.
I feel bolder with every moment. I slide my hand down his massive shaft. His cock is so big that my fingers barely meet around it. I take it fully in my grip, clenching it hard. And my pussy responds with a shivering pulse of please.
As I stroke him, his head falls back. The stubble over his throat pulls tight over his Adam’s apple. The veins in his neck pop out and throb, as he delicately strokes my hair as I work his length. I can feel him losing a little control and I revel in that power. There is so much powerful energy radiating from him to me, so much warmth and need. It feels like a dream. But a dream come very true.
“You’re gonna earn that first chair, aren’t you, baby?” Mike says, knotting his fingers into my hair possessively. And then looks down at me, so possessively and darkly and with so much need.
I know he’s playing with me, teasing me. If only this was all just a game to get that first chair place. If only it were that simple. If only this didn’t matter so much.
And yet, I like the naughtiness of it. “Yes, Mr. Hawthorn,” I say, teasing back. “Let me pay my dues.”
Mike laughs up at the sky again. “Fuck.”
I study his cock closely, every detail, every ripple. The way the skin curves tightly over the mushroom of the head. The lacework of veins running up the shaft. And now I feel the weight of his massive close-trimmed balls in my hand. They are heavy. And full.
“Those need to be emptied. As soon as fucking possible, little girl. So suck that cock like you mean it. Suck that cock like there’s a prize inside and we’ll see if you earn that chair.”
My toes curl tightly and automatically underneath me, so tight and hard that it makes my feet fill with cramps. But I ignore it. And I open my mouth and gently circle the rim of the head with the very tip of my tongue. Popsicle-licks, little tastes, learning and watching all the time.
I have no idea what I’m doing. But I follow my instincts, I follow my desire, and I watch him close to make sure I am doing what he likes.
I am. Oh, I definitely am. I play with his dick in my mouth, growing bolder, taking him deeper, looking up all the time.
I get more into it with every passing second. He’s huge in my mouth, but I like that fullness. I suck and kiss the tender flesh of his dick, enjoying his taste. His musky warmth, mixed with the freshness of his soap and cologne. And the more I taste him, the more I want to taste him and only him forever.
I take his cock deep into my throat, fighting my gag reflex. His body tenses and he lets out a primal groan of desire that eggs me on, past my gag reflex, past my body’s protests. I know, in my heart, that he could fuck the hell out of my throat right now. I know he could hurt me. I know he could make me cry.
But he doesn’t. He lets me do the work, lets me bring on my own tears.
And that makes all the difference.
I find my confidence and I start sucking his dick like I was born to do this job. Another drip of precum dripples from the tip and I suck it clean, pushing into the opening of his urethra with the tip of my tongue. He groans at that, clenching his ass to thrust in deeper. I look up at him and see him start to surrender. I’m making him feel amazing and that makes me feel even more amazing, too.
“Fuck, you look so good with my dick in your mouth.”
I move it around, batting my lashes, teasing the tip with my teeth. I press the head into the hollow of my cheek, licking down the sides. I pull it clean and lick all the way down the base, from shaft to tip, all around, and then use the wetness of my saliva to lubricate my hand as I draw the skin up to the tip and back down again.