That’s not a penis.
That’s… “That’s gonna break my jaw,” I say, staring at the dark slit on the head, watching it open slightly as he strokes his foreskin downward, pulling the crown a little as he does. God, there isn’t a single part of it that isn’t huge. Even the slit is wider than most, like when he comes, it’s with the force of a water hose.
My belly flutters, but my belly is a dumb bitch because the flutter is excitement. Yearning. Hunger. She doesn’t know she’d get rearranged by that thing in a hot second.
But… I don’t blame her. Because even though I know for a fact that cock is going to make me burn and scream, I also know that cock is going to make meburnandscream.
Atticus surprises me, which should no longer surprise me because all he does is show me unexpected sides to himself and reaches out. He links our hands together by the fingers—swoon—and brings them to his lap. Turning our hands inside out, he carefully places my palm around his hot, hard cock, then closes it by wrapping his palm over mine.
“You don’t have to take it all. Not right here. Not today.” He moves my hand and then releases it, leaving me stroking the first few wide, veiny inches. “But,” he groans, getting comfortable as he leans back. “One day, you’ll take every inch down your throat, and you’ll wish there was more.”
I find myself stroking a little faster, leaning toward him over the console.
“You’ll take it in that tight little asshole of yours, too, Goldie girl,” he rasps, making my asshole clench in happy anticipation. The idea of that thing going up there? Fuck no. But the way my entire lower half seizes and wetness trickles past my lips into my panties… Fuck yes.
“But right now, show me what those pretty lips look like sucking the tip.” When he raises his arm and drops a hand to the side of my face, fingers weaving through the sides of my hair, I dive into his lap.
The corners of my jaw burn as I open wide to lave the underside of his cock with my tongue. I’ll suck his head like he wants, but I need this monster. I need to explore it just a little.
“Baby,” he groans, filtering his fingers through the crown of my hair possessively, ruining my styled hair. Thank god I opted for a low ponytail; those are easy to redo. “I’ll let you treat me like a popsicle whenever you want, but I need to get inside your mouth.”
I grip his thigh with one hand and continue pumping the base of him with my other. With my lips spread over the crown, I say, “why? Are you and your mammoth cock gonna cum for me?”
He growls with irritation and hunger, and his nostrils flare when I peer up at him. With my hair wrapped around his knuckles, he pushes me back down on him, and I gladly open wide.
His head is broad and salty, and I’ve never been so wet giving head… and all I’ve done issuck the head. He doesn’t push me; rather, the weight of his large hand merely rests on my head, letting me know he’s watching. Sucking in through my nose, I sink down another inch, finding the corners of my jaw aching from being spread this wide for so long.
And it’s only been a minute.
I pop off, pepper his glistening head with kisses, and slide him into my mouth again.
“Yeah,” he groans, his grip tightening, sending a sharp jolt of pain down my neck. The strain of his tug only aches for a second before a delicious, warm pleasure spreads through me. Every way this man touches me has me ready to explode. “I fuckin’ am,” he grits.
He is? He is what? I’ve been obsessing over him so much that I forgot what I asked. Oh… he’s going to cum fast.
Moving my hand from his thigh, I reach between my legs and struggle to move my panties aside. If anyone came out of Delilah's, they’d see me leaning over the center console, ass practically up, sucking a cock the size of my forearm, fingering myself.
I don’t even care. Literally. As a person who has cared so goddamn much about what other people thought of me for so long and ended up depressed as fuck, I don’t care.
Using the tip of my tongue, I trace the hard underside of his crown, gushing as his shaft grows rock-hard beneath my palm. He was already so hard, I can’t fucking believe he’s getting harder. How?
“Put your mouth on it, baby, fu-uck,” he growls, and as soon as I sink his fat head onto my tongue and seal my lips around him, he cums.
My fingers curl into my clit with a sudden throb as I explode, the thick, warm streams of cum flooding my mouth sending me over the edge. The way he groans so quietly and subtle, how his fingers hold my head like I’m his prized possession, how his hips lift with each hot ribbon of his orgasm—it’s all so fucking sexy. My pussy spasms as I hold my fingers over my clit, cumming right along with him.
Thank the porn god in heaven because this time… I don’t dothe thing. The messy orgasm thing that I’m not sure I can even say to myself yet.
I want to be proud, and think it’s sexy. But the part of me raised by Constance Berry is still crawling around on the floor somewhere inside me, and I’m trying to find her and kill her. Until then, I cringe a little.
But I ride my fingers as I let this huge, handsome, filthy, erotic man get high off my throat and fill my belly with his cum. And there’s so much of it, too. My swallows seem bottomless until finally, he relaxes his grip on me, and sinks back into the seat a little. I pop off him and lower back down to my seat as I take my hand out of my panties and begin straightening my skirt.
I fold down the mirror as I retie my pony, smoothing the flyaways before turning to face him.
He’s already put himself away, and he’s watching me looking drunk and dazed. It makes me smile. I can affect this wall of man, and I don’t know if it’s that I made him cum or if it’s more, but either way, I feel like I could make HR my fucking bitch right about now.
Seriously.
“Fuck. I think that did give you confidence,” he comments as he watches me reapply lipstick and pull on my seatbelt.