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I crawl out of my panties and set them on my crumpled dress.
I’m sitting on my heels, legs tucked under me, as Ben starts to walk slowly around me once more.
“Beautiful. So perfect.”
I’m dying for him to touch me, but I try my hardest to be patient.
I’m not the one calling the shots here.
His next command is not completely unexpected.
“Take my cock out.”
He’s standing a foot in front of me, so I crawl the few inches necessary to get my hands on his belt. I go ahead and pull the belt all the way out and lay it on the ground next to me before starting on his zipper.
Just in case he wants it later.
I don’t dare look up at him, but I hear his soft laugh as he watches my deliberate movement with the belt.
His pants fall as soon as I have them unzipped. I pull his boxers down quickly, practically grinding my teeth in anticipation.
When I’m about to get my hands on the prize, however, he takes a half step back.
“Stop.”
My hands fall to my sides with a soft thud, and I look up at him. He holds my gaze as he steps out of his pants and boxers, taking the time to fold them and drape them over a chair, adding his own shirt to the pile before walking back over to stand before me, naked and every bit the picture of male perfection. His strong arms lead to chiseled shoulders and pecs. His abs belong on a man twenty years younger, and I feel a rush of respect for the work I know it takes to keep it looking that way. He’s textbook perfect. And I’m about to get a crash course.
“Open.”
I obey, praying that he can’t tell how much I’m salivating for him.
Without laying a hand on me, he slides his tip down my eager, outstretched tongue until he taps the back of my throat and then slides it back out.
I take a deep breath and look up at him, tongue still laid out like a red carpet.
“What are you going to do if you want me to stop?”
I close my mouth and swallow. “I’ll just get up and walk over there.”
He eyes the bar I’m gesturing to and nods. “Promise?”
I nod.
“Open.”
This time, I get both of his hands wrapped around my head when he enters me. His fingers slowly snake into my shoulder length hair until he’s got a death grip on me. Two fistfuls.
He’s gentle in my mouth at first, playful even, sliding in and out, allowing me to lick and suck at him as he fills me.
Slowly but surely, however, I feel him working his way further back until he’s breaching the top of my throat. I breathe calmly and squeeze my eyes closed as a rush of embarrassment and fear starts to overtake me. Tears hit my cheeks and run hot down to my chin before dripping off and hitting my thighs over and over.
“Look at you.”
His words are a balm—but only a small one.
I know I'm getting what I asked for, but all of a sudden, I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision in handing this man control.
You may not know if you made a mistake until it’s over.
