My stomach dropped.This is like that scene in American Psycho—I knew it was too good to be true.But, realizing I was getting ahead of myself, I asked him to clarify.
“This is…” he chuckled, then finished, “actuallya pinot.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re ridiculous!”
Playfully I hit him on the shoulder; he nudged me back, leaning in as he did so. Our faces were within inches of one another, which is when I noticed his eyes were traveling.
I brought a hand to my chest, fingering the necklace. “Can’t get your eyes off this, can you?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s lovely… but that’s not where I’m looking.”
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the moment, but just then I felt I was too much for my own body—I needed to get out of it. Having no way to articulate this, and worried my face would betray this sudden shift, I blurted out before realizing what I was saying, “I need to take a shower.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “A shower? Sure, the bathroom is just over—”
But he couldn’t finish his thought, because I didn’t let him; I succumbed to the feeling and brought my mouth to his.
I could taste the wine, and the heat of his mouth, and for a second worried I had misread the situation, had mistaken kindness for lust, and pulled away; but before I could, he grabbed me with both hands and brought me back in.
I had kissed before—and been kissed before—but this was different. There was thinking you wanted someone, and there was wanting someone; these things were not the same. I had thought I wanted Lucas from the moment I saw him, but now thought did not factor. It was him; I wanted him.
He ran his fingers through my hair as he kissed me; I felt myself moaning, giving myself to him. I wanted to beg, to let him know how much I needed it, but he pulled away abruptly, looking at me.
“What?” I asked, worried I’d imagined our connection.
But he smiled, a big smile, the kind that put all anxiety to rest. “Did you still want to take that shower?”
I opened my mouth to answer but couldn’t; I could only smile. He took this as intended, and before I knew it, he stood up and scooped me into his arms. I wasn’t heavy, but substantial. I had curves. Regardless, Lucas carried me as if I weighed nothing—no tension in his arms, no signs of effort flashing across his face. I felt his hands move tenderly up my thighs, pausing just before they went up my dress.
“Is this ok?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whimpered.
His hands were set back in motion, and then his fingers were on my underwear. He began massaging gently through the fabric. I moaned, despite myself. I had never been the noisy kind, but this was unlike my past experiences. His technique was magical, and suddenly I felt a surge of embarrassment—I was wet, and my underwear was heavy with it. But Lucas didn’t mind.
He pulled his fingers back, smirking as he examined them. They were wet, too. I closed my eyes.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, sucking my wetness off his fingers. “Mm… delicious.” I moaned again, ready for him to do whatever he wanted to me.
Instinctively, I tore off my underwear, which was wetter than I’d ever seen it, and dropped it on the floor. He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s all yours,” I said, spreading my legs.
Something came over him—as if he were a shark and I were in his ocean, bleeding from an open wound—and with ease he maneuvered me to another room, his bedroom, and tossed me onto the bed. I pulled up my dress, but Lucas couldn’t wait. I cried out as he buried his face in my pussy. His tongue was hot and rough, and I felt as if I were going to explode. I grabbed his head and pulled him in, and he growled, a deep, primal growl. He kissed and nibbled the inside of my thighs, his face covered in my wetness. He looked up at me, and I suddenly felt as if I were everything he had ever believed in, and now he was worshipping me. He flicked his tongue across my clit, and I spasmed. I felt myself getting wetter, and propped myself up on my elbows. That’s when I saw his cock, which was smooth and thick and hard.
Without thinking, I grabbed it and slipped my lips around it. I heard him exhale slowly.
“That feels good,” he moaned. He was uncircumcised, and I licked and sucked on the tip carefully, tightening my mouth around it as it throbbed.
“Fuck…”
I took it deep in my throat, his moans and mine converging to create an erotic symphony. Pulling it out, I drooled over the shaft and licked it, from the balls to the tip, and he cried out as if entirely at my mercy. I’d never been one to enjoy sucking dick, but he tasted so good—he fucked my throat like he was doing it a favor. I sucked the drool off his cock, then directed my gaze to his.
He looked at me, then down at his manhood. “You want this?”
“I want it,” I moaned.
“Yeah?” He grabbed his cock and it throbbed in response to his touch. “You want me to give it to you?”