Sam’s eyebrows raise into his gorgeous hairline, and his hand goes to his cock, stroking it. “You’ve never taken all of me,” he says, almost deadly calm, “and I’m bigger now then the time we’re pretending doesn’t exist.”

I don’t look away, because I know I’m right. In fact, I can’t help the self-satisfied smirk the comes to my face. This is something I’m very good at, and I know it.

This feels a little bit like a showdown, neither of us looking away. He’s waiting for me to admit that I can’t do it, and I’m waiting for him to realize that I’m serious. I let what’s left of the sheet clinging to me drop to the floor, and he breaks our stare, looking down at my body, and I heat up under his gaze. “Would you like me to prove it to you?” I ask softly.

I don’t give him a chance to respond—it’s not a really question. Sinking off the stool and onto my knees, I understand why he didn’t believe me. He’s big, and looks even bigger up close. “I wonder if you taste the same,” I say, echoing his words from the other night.

Pressing my lips to the tip of his cock, I watch as he closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of my mouth on him. I lick down the length of him, and I’m flooded with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, because he does taste the same. The sense memory is strong, bringing back all the other times that I’ve been on my knees in front of him, but I can’t worry about that right now. I tease him with the tip of my tongue, trailing down to the base of his cock, drawing patterns with it. I glance up. “Can’t forget about these,” I say, a moment before I take his balls into my mouth.

Sam groans, and I suck gently, working him the same way with my tongue that he used on my clit—deliberate and slow. I seal my mouth against is skin and suck back up his length to the tip, tasting the salt that’s already leaking there. Taking in just the head, I stroke under his head with my tongue, almost smiling when the muscles in his stomach tighten and I see his jaw clench. All good signs.

Slowly, slowly, I take more of him into my mouth, pulling back and sinking down, dropping further with every stroke. I reach the point where he’s at the back of my mouth, and I pull back preparing. Everything else has been a warm-up. Sam smiles because he thinks that he’s won and that I can’t do it. He’s wrong. I take a deep breath and sink all the way onto his cock, allowing him to slip into my throat with a silent pop! He’s all the way in now, my lips sealed around the base of him, nose pressing against his stomach.

“Holy shit,” he says under his breath. And he swears again when I swallow. I keep swallowing, milking him with my throat and he moans, hands finding their way into my hair. I run out of air, pulling back so I can breathe. “Fiona,” he says. I give him a sassy smile because I know that he’s in shock.

“Told you,” I say.

“You did,” he says, and suddenly that strength and power is back. “And now, no more talking.” His hands tighten in my hair, and the look he’s giving me only increases the wetness I can feel on my thighs. “You’re going to take all of it again, and again until I’m ready for you to stop.”

I like this bossy side of him because he knows just how much I enjoy this, and that I would have done it anyway. That edge that he’s bringing to it, like the edge he brought to our hook-up at the party, turns me on, and I swallow him eagerly as he guides my mouth back to him. Straight down to the bottom I go, and I like the feeling of swallowing him completely. I’m filled up with him, in the same way he fills my pussy, and it feels intimate in an entirely different way. I look up his body, and the look on his face is priceless, part awe, part lust, and part something that I can’t entirely name.

Sam’s fingers weave more tightly into my hair, and it keeps my head still. He rocks his hips, thrusting in and out of my mouth, gently at first, and then harder. There’s a chance for me to catch my breath and then he’s in my mouth again, pressing in deeper and deeper. He holds his cock all the way down my throat, balls against my chin until I’m running out of air. “Swallow,” he says, and I do. “Again.” I do. Again and again until he pulls me off his cock and I gasp for air. It becomes a rhythm, my taking the entirety, him fucking my throat from gentle strokes to furious pounding. Suddenly his breath goes short, and he presses in and holds, short thrusts against the back of my throat, pressing me harder down onto his cock.

He swears, pulling back just far enough for him to burst into my mouth, salt and cream splashing across my tongue in waves. I remember his words, about how I would have taken everything that he gave me, and I do. I swallow his cum, the sense memory bringing me back to the way I used to do this years ago, even if I wasn’t as good as I am now.

Sam’s cock spasms in my mouth, and I take the last of it, licking him clean before releasing him from my mouth.

“Fuck, Fiona.” He leans back against the bar, a sheen of sweat on him. “Serves me right for not believing you.”

I lick my lips pointedly. “Serves you right. And you do taste the same.”

“So do you.”

He helps me off the floor, and we’re caught in a moment together. I ask, “What was that you said about every position?”

“Every position,” he says. “All night long.”

“I didn’t wear you out just now?”

Sam grabs my hips and pulls me against him, his cock pinned between us so that I can feel it stirring, hardening again. “That was without a doubt the best blowjob I’ve ever had. But with you, I’m always ready for more.”

I grin. “So what’s next?”

“Dessert.”

“I didn’t even know you had dessert planned,” I say, looking around at the kitchen, trying to see if there are any hints to what it is.

Sam approaches the fridge, “I was just going to bring out a plate of gummy bears,” he says, “but I actually couldn’t find any at the stores I went to. So I thought we’d have ice cream sundaes.”

“Thought?”

He gives me a look that makes me shiver, and know that something’s coming. “You can have an ice cream sundae. I want a Fiona sundae.”

I walk around the bar and he lifts me up, setting me on the counter next to where he’s piling all the ingredients. “What’s a Fiona sundae?”

Picking up a bottle of whipped cream, Sam shakes it and points it at my breasts, covering one nipple and then the other with white foam. His mouth follows close behind, savoring and sucking me while he consumes the cream. “Getting the idea?”

“I’m starting too.”

Sam feeds me a bite of ice cream. “I’m going to dress you up, and the I’m going to lick you clean, before fucking you senseless.”

My pussy clenches and I open my legs a little. I want to see what he does, turning me into his perfect treat. Sam pushes my legs wide, exposing my pussy, and has me lean against the wall. I’m his canvas. He starts with chocolate sauce, drizzling it across my collarbone like a delicious necklace and then drawing circles with it around my breasts. Lines fall to my hips and he fills my belly button so the chocolate is spilling out. The lines curve in from my hips, so the chocolate is dripping over my pussy, and it feels strange and erotic. I shift myself a little, and Sam puts a hand on my knee. “Don’t move.”

He feeds me another spoonful of delicious vanilla ice cream before dribbling it across my collarbone and breasts. He gives me another spoonful and paints my lips with the lightly sticky remnants. Sprinkles go in the chocolate art he’s drawn on me, and then he picks up a candied cherry. I take a breath as splits one open, balancing it on my clit and the pressing another one into the entrance to my pussy. Finally, he grabs the whipped cream again. It covers my nipples, belly button, and pussy. “Open,” he says, and fills my mouth with the sweat cream.

Sam pulls me forward, kissing me, sharing the cream and it feels so strange and amazing. The taste of him mixed with the delicious simplicity of whipped cream. He licks down my neck and across my collarbone, smearing chocolate and ice cream in his wake. He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to lick me clean, and he takes his time across my chest and moving around my breasts, teasing me, moving slowly toward the center before he finally, finally, sucks a nipple into his mouth. My back arches and I moan, loving the silky cool feel of the cream on his tongue and the way my skin pebbles under his attention. He moves to the other, and back and forth, sucking my skin into hard points before sliding his tongue down the crevice in between my breasts.

I never knew that the belly button could be so sexy before this moment, but the sight of Sam’s tongue dipping inside, spilling chocolate across my stomach, and the feeling of his tongue, it sends aching need straight to my pussy and clit. He’s almost there, licking down the chocolate lines on my hips, teasing.

Stroke by stroke, he cleans the whipped cream from me, tongue barely touching where I need it to be touching. Oh God, the gentle brushes are driving me mad. Sam’s teeth brush my clit as he nips the cherry off the top, and I groan as his lips finally connect, sucking sweet sugar off of it and swirling his tongue around. And then I watch as he pushes my legs even wider, and locks eyes with me as he slips his tongue inside my entrance. When he pulls back, the cherry is on his tongue, clearly slick with me, and he doesn’t look away as he swallows it. “Delicious,” he says, and I flush as bright as the cherry.

Sam pulls me to the edge of the counter, and kisses me, the taste of chocolate, cherry, and me on his tongue. He’s tall, taller than I am, and perching on the counter like this puts us at a perfect height for what he’s thinking. His cock is rock hard again, and he slips it inside me in one smooth stroke. I wrap my legs around him to draw him closer—I like him close, and I love that now we’re at eye level.

There’s no condom and it feels entirely different, the texture of his skin on mine is delicious. My body is primed and ready to go, flooding with feeling and pleasure right away. Like everything that’s happened tonight has made it ready to orgasm. Sam is right there with me, thrusting fast, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he holds onto my hips. I feel like I’m clinging to him for life, wrapped around him as I am, and I just might be. It feels so good, impossibly good, and I think I might break apart if I wasn’t holding onto him.

“Fiona,” Sam says, voice rough, “I’m close. I can’t last.”

“Then don’t.”

Even barely hanging on, he manages a smirk. “You first.” He kisses me, a consuming, powerful kiss, and it’s enough. I crash into an orgasm with a dazzling speed that makes me cry out. I can feel my orgasm dripping down onto Sam’s cock, and I’m crushing him against me, unable to control the flow of pleasure through my body. Is swirls like a tornado, destroying me and putting me back together before evaporating.

Sam pulls out of me, stroking his cock as he comes, his orgasm splashing across my skin, groaning as he comes. I can’t take my eyes off him, taut forearms working his cock like he’ll die if he doesn’t. Everything about him is rigid as cum spills out, and he presses his head against my shoulder as he finishes.

“Your dessert really knows how to make an impression,” I say, and he laughs.

“You know I always want to make an impression.”

“Do you?” The words are out there before I can think and realize that they kind of break our goal for the night. But the Sam that I knew in high school never wanted to draw attention to himself, despite the fact that he was talented and rich. He always preferred to fade into the background. Other than making a dynamic sexual impression, it doesn’t seem like that’s changed.

“Maybe,” Sam says. “I guess we’ll see what you’ll say in the morning.”

I smile. “I guess.”

“Care for a shower?” He’s actually asking, but I can see the glint in his eyes that tells me that it won’t be just a shower. The idea of seeing his body dripping wet ironically makes my mouth go dry.

“Only if you promise to clean up the mess you made,” I say, gesturing to my body and the remnants of his dessert and orgasm on my skin.

“Oh,” Sam says, “I promise.”