Tsk.
He takes a slow sip from his glass as he turns to face me. His eyes glide down my body. Another sip, our eyes meet over the rim, and he leans over to kiss me. Slowly. Sensually. His tongue licking between my lips as he does.
My body responds in seconds. I drag my fingertips along his chest, lower down the perfect V of his abs.
What happened to cognac-tasting?
Except now I don’t want cognac. I want him again.
He pulls away and, not taking his eyes off me, dips his fingers into his glass, then brings them to my breast and circles my nipple.
My mouth falls open just slightly.
I look down at the drops glistening on my skin in the dim light, and Archer bends and draws a circle with his tongue around my nipple.
This is hot.
And his smile is even hotter when he pulls away, licking his lips.
“Wanna try?”
He dips his fingers in the glass, then his hand disappears between us.
I break the eye contact to look down—at his fingers brushing his cock.
Oh, fuck. So that’s how we gonna roll?
My gaze flickers up at him. His is narrowed at me, playful, devilish when he says, “It’s really good. Go for it.”
The cognac or…
Yes, I want it all.
I want to bite back with a clever remark. But Archer is not pushy. He wants to play. And guess who is the number one player?
Slowly, I get down on my knees in front of him.
He wants a blowjob? I’ll make sure he will never forget it.
His cock is long and thick, perfect and pointing at me like a gun. I lean over, stick my tongue out just a little, and give his shaft a quick lick, then lean back on my heels and look up at him. “I didn’t quite get the taste.”
His lips stretch in a smile as he dips his fingers in the glass again and brings them, dripping, to his cock, smearing the liquid along its length.
This time, I stick out my tongue and, locking my gaze with his, run my tongue slowly all the way up his length, tugging at his tip with my lips.
I’m dripping down my thighs, wanting at the same time to fuck him and give him the best blowjob of his life—not that mechanical stuff he gets from other girls.
I was too young for this stuff when I lived in Bangkok. But hanging out with ladyboys, in the back rooms of ‘ping pong shows,’ taught me a lot. I heard a lot. Saw even more.
It was Jonshu, mykathoeybestie, who told me that guys like being taken care of just like women—slowly and thoroughly.
“Blowjob is not a marathon. Unless you are working, of course. It’s a trip. It’s art. You want to make a guy come fast—find his prostate and do that in seconds. That’s just anatomy, babe. Blowjob is as visual pleasure as it is sensual.”
I do just that. I take Archer’s cock in my hand and press it against his abdomen.
Little kisses along its shaft—he exhales in pleasure.
Little licks along his length, my lips tugging at the skin that’s soft and smooth over his steel hardness—a grunt escapes his throat.