Chapter 10
Kellan
I gasped as she took her time between my legs. I’d never thought much about my balls during sex, other than how quickly I could empty them and how often, but suddenly they seemed an erogenous zone so big they threatened to swallow me whole.
“Even your balls are beautiful,” she said, licking them clean for the second time as I writhed, so hard and excited even I could feel the pre-cum drizzling into my belly button. “I could stay here all night.”
“Be my guest,” I murmured, gasping as she nibbled at the tender flesh of my testicles. “I mean, since we don’t have to work tomorrow…”
“Don’t kid yourself,” she sighed, moving up from my sack to the base of my cock, the tip of her fiery tongue following the long, thick ridge on the underside of my cock. “You’re going to be putting in plenty of hours tonight.”
“This is hardly work,” I murmured as I wriggled my hips in response to her tempting, teasing tongue, still only halfway up my shaft.
“Don’t worry,” she murmured, her breath spilling across my glistening cock. “You’ll have your turn to tie me up and do your worst.”
“I can’t wait.”
She nibbled, gently the rosy tip. “You’re gonna have to, pretty boy, because I intend to take as long as I can and make you beg for release.”
“Big talk,” I said before she took me in hand, using my shaft like a gearshift to lick the top, tip to base, kissing my manscaped pubes while stroking me gently.
The sensation was divine, so slow and tender, just as she’d done everything since I’d shown up that evening. From the light appetizers to the rich, red wine, the flickering candlelight, and the funky, Bohemian back deck, Carla had been a startling and sexy revelation.
Now, tied to the bed blindfolded, tantric sex music oozing from some unseen speaker, the humid South Beach breeze whispering along my naked body, I wilted beneath her touch.
I’d been so eager to dominate her, to show her who was boss, to strut into her office, fix her life, and make her pay with hot, wet, domineering sex. Instead she had taken me by surprise, beaten me at my own game and bound me, heart and soul, and not just to her bed.
I was a model again, wowing them on the catwalk and earning a big, fat, much-needed check from a very generous designer in return. And now, Carla’s lips nuzzling the tip of my cock, teasing me with delightful anticipation, I couldn’t ask for more.
And yet, she gave it—and then some. Her mouth, a supple plaything, enrobed my cock with an infernal heat, generous moisture drizzling down and along every vein and ridge only to be scooped up and gathered by her expert hands.
Gripping the bottom half of my rod, she sucked the top half, meeting lips to fingers and letting me marinate in her juices before fingers and lips drifted apart again, only to meet a few succulents, slick sounding seconds later.
She was tireless in her eagerness to please and, at her mercy I did her the honor of savoring every moment of her rapt attention. She spoke not a word, for the time for quips and puns had passed. Now there was only the music of our bodies, hot and writhing, my hips begging to move, my ass lifting gently off the bed, pressing my cock deeper inside that precious heat. She wanted more, and so did I.
From her endless blow job, she dragged her lips from my shaft, lingering near the tip to suck and lick it before rising in a flutter of sheets and the rasp of skin against cotton. I could smell her, ripe and robust and fragrant, moving closer as she crept toward me. I stood at attention, my wrists bound, my fingers wound around her metal headboard as I felt the heat of her bush rasp against the underside of my prick.
I exhaled so loudly I surprised myself, turning my head from side to side as I felt her wet bud, stiff and tender, rise along my throbbing cock. Her heat was off the charts, blistering as she rose above my hips and wriggled the damp folds of her pussy until they gathered, like petals, around my stem. And then, they parted, both of us gasping at the sensation as she moved on top of me, sliding down until I could feel every glistening inch of her, and her me, until she sank, and sank, knees on either side of my hips, our pelvises meeting as her breath washed across me, eager and desperate.
I lay, my legs spread, and my arms above my head, plunged deep inside of her as she rested against me. She wasn’t riding me, just grinding me, seeking her own pleasure from the joint where our bliss met, dragging across it again and again until I could feel her pleasure coming, faster, faster, throbbing all around me, grinding against me, throbbing and moaning until…until…she came, sighing, murmuring, muttering, “Oh shit!”
“What?” I moaned, so enraptured by her pleasure I’d completely forgotten my own.
“I wanted this to be all about you,” she panted, giving the lie to her words as she grabbed my waist and, quickly, ground out another orgasm on the slick joint of my pelvis.
“Like I’m not enjoying myself?” I chuckled.
“Oh, you will,” she purred, bending forward to pepper my lips with a kiss and using the new angle to rise, gently, off my slick, creamy cock. I gasped and said, “I already am, Carla.”
I could feel her nod, against my face, and thought maybe I felt a tear or two drift down her cheeks and onto mine. It had been a long time since I’d made a girl cry, and never in a good way. As she nestled herself back on top of me, settling in for a long, good ride, I thought about how lucky I’d been to walk into Carla’s office that day.
And how much I was looking forward to seeing what the future held. …