I’m nervous now. This was supposed to be a quick thing, me and Ben. And now I’m stopping, hesitating, dragging it out. My pulse quickens as he tugs at my jeans.

I catch his hand again and look into those steely, impenetrable eyes. There’s something he’s hiding, something he’s not telling me. I’ve been in business long enough to know that for certain.

I hate that I don’t know what it is. What I hate even worse is that I don’t care what it is. I was taught to value honesty above all else, but we’re already caught up in the lie we told my parents. What’s one more?

The pit of my stomach twists in excitement, nervousness, in the agony of the unknown. And inside my body swirls the sensual arousal that Ben has pulled out of me, a slick wetness and aching need that I’ve never felt before.

Ben makes me feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of desire a few times in my short life. Contained in his hard-sculpted body are untold depths of pleasure I’ve never explored before.

“I’m not into relationships,” I say curtly. Something deep inside of me is nervous. I can’t help it when the words fall out of my mouth.

“I know,” he says. He bends towards me and takes one nipple in his mouth again, pulling it between his teeth and biting ever so gently. His tongue moves across the surface of my sensitive flesh, and I let out a low moan. I drop his hand and instinctively bring my fingers to his hair, tangling them there, bringing him close to me and taking in the dark, rich scent of his own desire.

“This isn’t serious.”

“Definitely not,” he replies. I feel his hands on my hips, pulling down my jeans, hooking into the fabric of my plain, white panties. He tosses the clothing on the floor in a heap. I see the falling fabric as if in slow motion, like I’m watching a movie, or seeing something from a far-off distance. The feeling in my head is fuzzy, slow, like I’ve been drinking or smoking pot. He’s intoxicating, slowing me down and making me dumb.

Tomorrow, back to business, I think. Tonight, give in. Just this once.

I spread my legs reflexively, barely thinking, fully naked in front of him. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this—fully open, no guilt. And none of the deep, unsettling shame I was taught to feel for the majority of my childhood.

“I don’t even like oral…” I hear myself saying the words as I lie back on the couch and Ben pulls me to the edge of the cushion.

He grins at me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ve just never had the right experience before.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” I say. But my hands are already moving to my exposed breasts, my fingers pulling at my nipples, legs spread wide and utterly exposed for the strange and mysterious man before me. I moan as Justin gently pulls my legs around his waist. His fingers find me again, and he slips two inside of me as he pulls off his shirt with the other hand.

I felt the muscles of his body before, but seeing them is an entirely different experience. A damn good one. He’s sculpted in a way that you might see in an old painting of a hero or a god. Every piece of him is symmetrical—a mathematical picture of beauty, otherworldly and almost disconcerting.

He moves his head to kiss the insides of my thighs, his tongue working itself over my skin and up to the dark secret between my legs. I close my eyes, and I let out a deep sigh as his tongue connects with my skin, his full lips pulling my clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it and then dropping lower to taste my wetness. Ben lets out a growl as his tongue explores my slick, waiting folds. His tongue thrusts inside of me and travels down to the tight pucker of my ass.

I should feel bad about this. The memories in my brain scream with guilt and negativity, but the thrill running through my body overpowers all of that. I give in to the sensation, my hips bucking with pleasure as as his lips encircle my clit and suck at it ever so gently. Flames rise from the base of my thighs into the pit of my stomach as the pleasure rises within me, building to one small peak and then another. He must sense it within me because he slips two fingers inside of me as the feeling reaches to new heights. One finger presses against my puckered hole, and I cry out as the cascade of pleasure courses through my body, centered on the places where Ben is touching me, caressing me, licking me, and drawing me out.

I buck and writhe against him, completely wild.

I thought I’d let my hair down the day I left Indiana, but I have the faintest thought as I cum, lightning coursing through my veins, that I knew nothing of freedom until now.

The afterglow. I don’t think I knew what that word really meant until now. My whole body feels like it’s glowing, like I’m still experiencing the earth-shaking orgasm I just had.

Still, I instinctively pull the blanket on my sofa over my body. My brain comes back to consciousness, and I wonder exactly what the hell I’m thinking. I’m definitely high off of this man’s expert tongue, and I definitely don’t feel anything like the Sarah I’ve been my whole life.

I feel different.

And utterly hungry for him.

I sit up and hold the blanket in closer, as if I’m trying to protect myself from my own desire.

Ben pulls the throw away and smiles, pulling me down to the floor with him. He laughs. “How was that? You still don’t like oral all that much?”

“That was… different,” I say. I’m a little more guarded than I should be with someone who just went down on me and gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life, but I still don’t really know who this guy is.

“Admit it. It was awesome. I am good at a few things—and that’s one of them.” The confidence he exudes when he says this makes me want to spread my legs for him all over again. Instead, I curl into his body, leaning into him and running my hand over the finely shaped muscles of his core.

I want something more. I know that.

Millie would tell me to go for it. Throw caution to the wind. Sleep with him and hope for the best—she’d tell me to say goodbye in the morning and not to hold on to the expectation that I’d ever see him again.

I can’t do that.

As much as I want this to be a quick fling, there’s another part of me that fights against that idea. I wasn’t raised to go fast. And this is lightning speed compared to anything else I’ve ever done with a man.

Maybe it’s the fear of wanting it so much. Too much.

I run my hand over the fabric of his jeans, and my hand comes to rest along the swell of his hard cock. He groans and gives me a sideways look

“You said you didn’t want any more than this.” His fingers reach toward me and pull a lock of pink-blond hair behind my ear.

“That wasn’t entirely honest.” I run the palm of my hand over his cock, feeling its thickness and length. My body is suddenly consumed by the idea of what it would feel like inside of me. My mouth waters. I respond again, without thinking. “I do want more. A lot more. But… I need to figure out a few things.”

Ben shifts, moaning ever so slightly. “Fine by me, but I’ll need to take care of this after I get home.” He gestures to the bulge in his pants.

I bite my lip. “I’d like to… help you out with that. But…”

“But what…?”

“I haven’t… exactly… gone down on a guy before.” I blush furiously. Ben’s mouth drops open. I keep rambling before he can react. “I’ve had sex. A few times. With a few guys. But it was quick and not spectacular. One relationship lasted a little longer than the others, but I didn’t do anything that was sexually adventurous.”

“Giving head is not exactly sexually adventurous.”

I blush harder. “You know what, just forget it.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice growing softer, “I get it. I didn’t have a great childhood myself. It was different from yours, sure. But I have hangups too. I’m guarded, too. Just in a different way.” His eyes have that closed-off, steely look again, and I wonder exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.

“Okay. I get that.” I take a deep breath. “I’m nervous.”

“It’s not a requirement,” he says, grinning. “But it’s a good bonus after how good it felt to make you come.”

“It was alright…” I let my voice trail off and then give him a wicked look.

He tackles me and brings me into a kiss. I taste the sharpness of my own body on his mouth, and for the first time in my life, I’m utterly turned on—by my own body.

When he pulls away, I delicately unbutton his jeans and to feel the heat of his stiff cock.

“I’ll do this if you’re willing to take a chance on me. I might not be that great…” I let my voice trail off. The mix of nerves and excitement hits me again.

“I’ll help you,” he murmurs. Ben raises himself to the couch and takes off his jeans, setting his stiff cock free. It’s big. Much bigger than I’d imagined. I swallow nervously, just looking at it.

“It’s massive,” I mutter. “I don’t know if I can…”

He laughs, stroking himself. I can’t take my eyes off his cock, and for some reason, my mouth starts to water just looking at it. This wasn’t what I imagined when I first thought about escaping my home. I realize that Ben might just be one of those things I never expected.

“You can. And you’ll be damn good at it.” His smile widens. “I just have a feeling about these things.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh too. After the incredible experience of coming for him, this feels awkward, like a high schooler having their first kiss in the back of a crowded movie theater. Of course, I never got that experience—or this one, either. “I sorta doubt that.”

“That’s for me to decide.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and urges me forward until I’m face to face with his cock. A pearly bead of precum is at the very tip, and he continues stroking himself, sighing a little with each movement of his hand.

I laugh again just to ease the rising tension in my body. Ben takes my hand in his and places it on his cock, moving the cup of my palm over his length. My fingers barely wrap around it. That should be intimidating—but instead, I feel more turned on, more in tune with his body.

“Now put your mouth on the head of my cock, and swirl your tongue around the tip.”

I hesitate for a moment, but then I do exactly as he instructs, guided by my own body and the desire that’s burgeoning again inside of me. I taste the saltiness of his skin, the sharpness of his essence, and somehow, it feels good—and right—that I’m doing this.

“Keep stroking,” he says, moaning slightly. His hand moves over mine and then falls away. I keep the huge girth of his cock in my palm, moving quicker now as I bring the head deeper into my mouth. I move my tongue slowly around its circumference. Ben guides me again, thrusting his cock forward and groaning loudly.

“That’s it… that’s it,” he says. His voice is husky with lust, and his gray eyes are closed when I look up at him. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at my roots—not in an overbearing way, but simply eager. The sounds he makes brings my own arousal to a new height. I’ve never focused on pleasing someone like this. I’m totally, completely centered on him—not my business or my appearance or my history. Time melts away, and I bring him deeper into my mouth until his length hits the back of my throat.

I sputter ever so slightly, but I keep going, willing his hips to arch towards me, willing him closer and closer to orgasm. I want to show him the same sensation he gave me.

“Now swallow. Move your throat’s muscles against my cock,” he murmurs, still tugging gently at my hair. I do as he says, and Ben lets out a muffled, low groan of satisfaction.

“I’m cumming,” he moans. “Pull away so I can—”

But I don’t pull away. Some instinct inside of me takes over and tells me to keep working his cock with my hand and mouth. I feel his cock jerk in response and taste the flood of slightly salty, slightly alkaline come that jets from deep inside of him.

I swallow all of it.

And I’m somehow even more turned on now than I was when he first spread my legs and moved his fingers over my aching sex.

“Oh, God,” he whispers. “Sarah, that was—”

His body jerks one more time, releasing another hot wave of come into my mouth. I pull away finally. I feel one drop at the corner of my mouth and wipe it away with one rose-gold nail. The look on Ben’s face is one I haven’t seen in a man before, not in this setting, anyway.

He wears a look of bald amazement, his guard down utterly and completely.

I must be wearing the same look on my face. I hold his gaze for a while and then pull myself up next to him.

If he stayed here, I’d definitely wake up next to him.

I’d definitely submit to his will—whatever it was.

And I’d definitely fuck him.

Best not to let any of that happen.

“That was incredible,” he says, pulling me in closer.

“Good,” I mumble. “Because I need to get to bed. I can call you a Lyft?”

I look back up at him, smiling.

He laughs out loud. “Got it. Point taken. We’re slowing things down.”

“Just a little,” I say.

I drag myself away from his perfect body, putting my clothing back on as he stares at me with interest.

“You know, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before,” he says.

“I know,” I reply. “Don’t forget it.”

“I certainly won’t.”

When I watch him go, I know I’m missing out on what might happen tomorrow morning.

But if he wants it enough, he’ll come and get it. And I’ll be waiting.

Steady and measured, just like I always have been.

He’ll be back. And if he’s not, I won’t get my heart broken by the loss.

It’s all casual, after all.

Isn’t it?

Something tells me that I might want this to be casual—and it’s most definitely not.