Brandon

What? I look at her, feeling my pulse race, my head spin. Did I just hear what the hell I think I did? Did she just say “I want you to fuck me”?

I close my eyes against her for a moment. Against her urgent eyes, her hungry dry mouth. No, she couldn’t have said something like that. And even if she did, she’s probably out her mind. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s struggling with trauma. There’s no way she could just come on to me like…

My thoughts are interrupted by a very real, very persistent feeling of her body grinding against mine— her fingers and nails scratching themselves along my body, pulling at my clothes. My pants, belt buckle, shirt.

Then, as if that weren’t enough — the feeling of being drowned by her wiry, hungry body — her voice comes in next. Slams into me with its hot, quiet her. “Please,” she says, “I want you to fuck me.”

She grinds on me again, being sure that I feel her pussy against my leg. My knee. Her nipples against my chest, my hands, like she’s trying to get me to hold them. Squeeze them. “I need you to fuck me. I need to feel good. I need to have you, Brandon,” she says.

Her voice is louder this time, matching the climbing intensity of her touch. Her fingernails dig deeper, and her hands hold firmer. They drag across me, as if I’m her life vest. As she begins to work me out of my belt buckle and pants, I realize I feel the same. I feel hungry for her, too— in need of contact, warmth.

In this moment, as I feel her hands pull my pants down around my ankles, followed by my boxers, I know it’s been too long. Like a wave I didn’t know was burying me, I’m suddenly breathless with my years of living alone.

And then her mouth is on my cock. In seconds flat, I’ve gone from wearing clothes to wearing her warm, diligent lips. She has stretchy, silky cheeks, and a tongue that knows how to massage me, even from the depths of her mouth and throat.

I need this too, I think, hating myself for such weakness. Part of my mind still believes that I’m taking advantage of her. That I’m just using her suggestible, weakened mental state to my benefit. That I’m really no hero to do something like this to a woman I’m supposed to be taking care of. But all these thoughts are quickly drowned out by Juliet and her devoted sucking of my cock.

Up and down she goes, sucking and slurping each inch. Each bit of texture, each vein comes under her attentive, wet, fat tongue and silky throat. It’s so warm, there are times I’m not sure I’m in her mouth. It feels like I’m in her pussy. Just wetter. Slimier, but I’m not turned off in the least. If anything, I’m even more sensitive because of her saliva.

The words spill out from under her lips as she moves. And there’s very little room for these words, since my cock is almost too big for her. As it is, she gags with each downward movement. But she doesn’t stop. She just continues to give me a blow job, saying, “Thank you for giving me your big, fat cock. Thank you for giving it to me to suck on.”

Over these words, she smacks her lips. She licks my head, adding, “Your big, manly cock makes me feel better. You give me the most delicious to eat.” Here, her words are thick and wet. Like her dripping saliva. “It’s so juicy, Brandon, and I’m going to suck you dry.”

She continues her work on me after this, and my head is practically swimming. Now I feel like I’m the one dreaming. I’m detached from my head with how floaty and dizzy I feel. Despite the size difference between Juliet’s mouth and lips and my dick, she keeps eating me. Sucking and caressing me, as if her life depends on it.

And my cock can do nothing less than respond. It begins to pulse, stiffen, and I feel my balls beginning to pucker. They suck in, and before I realize what’s happening I almost cum. I think about blowing my load in her mouth as she says, “Thank you for giving me your cock so I can feel better,” but I hold back.

Somehow, I manage to keep back my cum. I pull my cock gently from her mouth, not wanting to miss actually fucking her.

At the same time my cock comes out of her mouth, I pull her from her knees and bend her over the bed, getting a look at her small, pretty pussy laid out in front of me. I shiver, just because of how shiny and puffy it looks. I can’t cum before I’ve had some of that, I think, setting my breathing as well as my aim. I can’t lose it. Not yet. Not until I’ve had her for real.