And I thought I had an oral fixation…
Her tongue swirls tortuously slow around the tip of my cock, lapping up the mixture of melted ice and pre cum.
I should tell her to speed this shit up.
This is the absolute last fucking thing I should be doing right now.
On today of all days.
On a day I know matters so much to one of the only people I really give a fuck about in life.
One of the only people I consider family.
The almond skinned minx drags her tongue down to trace the outline of my ball sack.
A heavy groan is immediately grabbed.
Fuck it, he’ll forgive me.
I’ve done worse.
I’m sure in the coming years I’ll do worse.
Because that’s apparently who I am.
That’s what I’m known for.
Coming first and caring who it affected later.
If I choose to care.
That’s typically a huge fucking if.
She hums as she sucks my smooth nuts into her mouth. The added vibration causes me to grit my teeth and curl my toes inside my dress kicks.
Fuck, I love a woman who doesn’t need a pre-drawn map to get a man off.
Who’s willing to just explore.
To taste all of me.
And I do mean all of me…
Her damp hand begins to stroke my shaft at the same time she increases the hold she has with her mouth.
I grumble again and tug her sea of hair sprayed curls. “That’s right, sweet cheeks. Suck that shit.”
She does as she’s told like every other woman I’ve ever had on their knees.
Guess you could say I have a type.
Guess you could say I am a type.
Guess you could say why not wear the fucking kicks if they already fit?
And they’ve always fit.
Since before I learned to talk or walk.
Since before I was even born.
There was a type I was born into being, and no matter how fast I run or hard I fuck I have a way of continuously falling into it.
All of a sudden, she abruptly abandons my dick and sits back onto her silver heels. “Turn around. Hands on the shelf.”
My head tilts in intrigue.
Women never tell me what to do during sex.
They like being told what to do.
Owned.
Controlled.
Guaranteed to come so many times their husband or boyfriend or favorite vibrator will spend the rest of their life crying cause they can’t fucking compete.
This is different.
Just like her offering to get me a drink.
Just like her leading me to this supply closet.
Just like her insisting she get on her knees to blow me after making out with me for ten minutes.
Even in the dimly lit room I can tell her stare has darkened. “You won’t like what happens if you make me say it twice.”
I cock a smirk yet instantly follow the instructions. With my face staring at an unopened box of napkins, I mentally contemplate what could possibly be in store.
A moment passes by without being touched further.
And then another.
And another.
Just as I’m about to complain she won’t like what happens when I’m made to wait, which is fucking never, her mouth clamps around my cock, confining it with an ice cold companion.
My head falls forward. “Fuck…”
The object is whirled around in slow, concise circles, amalgamating a mixture of pleasure and pain that has my nuts aching in anticipation. I thoughtlessly thrust my hips forward only to be anchored in place by the sharpness of her nails digging into my bare thighs. A grumble of irritation threatens to break free but slinks back into my throat as I grow closer to the edge of hers. Warmth from the untouched area tickles the tip of my cock, rapidly growing the urge to shove it to the brink where the heat lies, yet each time I attempt her nails cut deeper into my flesh, reminding me that despite my position I am not in control.
I am being controlled.
Dominated.
Owned.
She hollows her mouth and slides back towards the head, retreating my dick into the cold depths I was excited to be escaping. More groans fester in my chest as my eyes screw shut, loving the thrill of the torment. The melting object is twirled viciously around the tip accompanied by a moan so delicious I wish it was being served as dessert rather than the bullshit they’re calling Crème Brûlée. Again, without warning, my dick is thrust forward, penetrating past the frigid barrier into the paradise of heat.
I growl and grip the edge of the shelf even tighter, silently praying she starts sucking before my nuts turn blue for a new reason.
For the record, they’ve never been blue for a logical reason.
Body paint, edible and non-edible.
Frosting.
Fucking in a walk-in freezer.
All of those have turned my testicles the dreaded shade in a fun way.
Never because I’d gone too long without fucking.
And never because a woman made me wanna come so bad it physically fucking hurt.
Seconds prior to the tip of my dick touching the alluded to, but never reached destination known as the back of her throat, she starts to slide away, swollen shaft thrumming in objection. My mouth drops to voice my frustrations, to warn her how close I am to screwing her face if she doesn’t stop fucking with me, when she begins a vigorous bob.
The intensity knocks my head straight into the box. “Fuck yes, sweet cheeks…”
Her tongue rapidly strokes the underside of my dick while the suctioned walls of her cheeks create the friction I’ve been begging for. Despite the instinct to rock my hips forward, I hold still, letting her fuck me with her face.
Letting her chase away the coldness of the ice from her beverage by blazing a path of heat.
Letting her choke on the thickness of my cock clogging her throat.
The slick, sloppy sounds feel like praises being sung.
Praises I’ve never wanted to sing to another person in my entire life.
She savagely continues to devour my dick, creating conflict in my senses, all vying for satisfaction in the end. Each time her head draws back it bumps into the shelf creating a thumping that acts as the applause my hands are itching to give. Warm dribble drizzles its way down the base of my shaft straight for my balls, and they rise up to catch it. Suddenly, her ice cold hand cups them, delivering the perfect amount of tension to throw me into an inferno I wasn’t aware existed. Scalding streams splash down her esophagus only to be flawlessly swallowed like a shot of top shelf tequila. The lack of gagging or push back on guzzling my cum chars my nervous system.
Crumbles it down to bite size pieces.
My body helplessly sags; thankful her nails are still embedded in my flesh.
Fuck, she must be strong.
The undeniably gorgeous woman gracefully slides me out of her mouth on a content sigh. Regardless of the fact my cock is completely spent; she takes a moment to lave it clean, leaving no trace of cum behind. The delicate way she licks and lightly sucks has my dick starting to thicken at a surprising rate.
Won’t say that a quick turnaround never happens…It’s just…rare.
Really. Fucking. Rare.
She leaves a gentle kiss on the tip and wiggles her way out from underneath my wobbling legs.
It takes longer than I care to admit to get my brain and my body to sync back together to actually make movement. When I finally do, I turn around to see what has to be the woman of my dreams, adjusting her ample tits. I decide against saying anything and simply enjoy the view.
This chick has everything.
Big tits.
Wide hips.
Thick thighs.
More than a good handful of ass.
And curves that so many men make the fucking mistake of shying away from.
Yeah, she’s not model-thin, or fuck, thin in any capacity, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t sexy.
Her shape damn sure doesn’t stop me from wanting to fuck her brains out.
I should probably be honest with myself.
It actually makes me wanna fuck her more.
There’s something I can’t resist about bending a woman like this over and holding nothing back as I fuck her because I don’t have to worry about breaking her ribs in the process.
She wipes the corner of her lips where her bright red lipstick never smeared.
Fuck me, I wanna smear that shit…
Want it smeared on me.
Want a bright red trail of it down my body starting at my face… leading to my neck…across my stomach…Have the path continue to cascade down my cock and balls straight to a rim job.
Yeah…
That’s how this fucking night is going to end.
“This was fun,” she softly acknowledges, briefly biting her bottom lip, “but I probably should get back out there before my big brother comes looking for me. Swear to God, he can sniff me out like a bloodhound.”
I lightly laugh. “Bit over protective?”
“Understatement of the century.”
“Did he bring you, or you brought him?”
“Neither. It’s his engagement party.”
My jaw hits the ground in pure panic.
No…
No.
No. No. No. No!
She gives me one final wink before slipping out of the supply closet door.
This can’t be happening….
She can’t be his sister.
She can’t be my best friend’s sister!
He doesn’t have a fucking sister!
My head drops backwards hitting the shelf with a hard thud.
No.
No.
Just…fucking…no.
If what she said is true, which it can’t be true, because how could he have had a sister and not tell us, then she isn’t the woman of my dreams…
She’s the woman of my fucking nightmare.
I’d never consciously betray my bro…
None of them.
Not for money.
Not for fame.
And damn sure not for pussy.
Even if something inside of me is screaming she would be so much more than that…