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Her hands are shaking a little as she lifts her arms and fumbles with the button and zipper on my jeans. Eventually she manages to unfasten them, pulling my pants and boxers down over my butt just enough for my dick to pop free.
I’m rock-hard, the head pink and wet with precum. Tipping her head back again, she looks up at me instead of at my dick, and I chuckle. “Eyes on me, I want to watch you try to swallow me.”
Instead of grabbing my dick, like most women do when they’re in this position, she lifts her butt off the floor, putting her face a little closer to my junk, then opens her mouth and sucks the head of my cock between her lips.
“Good girl,” I praise. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to come right then and there. Her mouth is hot and wet and her tongue laves over the sensitive head of my dick, and the entire time she looks up at me with wide, innocent slutty eyes.
It’s the perfect trifecta intended to bring men to their knees, but I don’t think she even knows how fucking perfect she is right now.
“So…fucking…good,” I grind out as she bobs her head up and down.
Toying with the head of my cock, she inches slightly deeper, but she doesn’t try to take me so deep that she risks the chance of gagging on my dick. Another time, I’ll encourage her to take more of me, but right now I’m too close to the edge to care how good her gag reflex is.
A woman choking on your cock is great, as are the sounds they make when you slip into their throat, but my woman sucking on my cock like it’s her favorite treat is a million times better than any blow job I’ve gotten before.
“I’m close,” I growl in warning. “You can either swallow me down or take down your pants, and I’ll fill up my cunt. Pick now.”
Her movement pauses for a second, and I watch as indecision plays through her open expression. Just as I open my mouth to speak again, she starts to move, sucking hard like she’s ready to taste me.
“Fuck, Etta. You’re so damn perfect. Open your mouth, I’m going to come on your tongue, and you’re not going to swallow until I tell you.”
She obeys so fucking easily, sitting up straight and opening her mouth like doing what she’s told is everything she needs. Grabbing my dick, I jerk in fast, erratic pulls until hot streams of cum burst from the tip, coating her pink tongue until it’s white and drowning in my release.
Hooking my thumb under her chin, I slowly tilt her head back, just enough that I have the perfect fucking view of my innocent wife with a mouth full of my cum.
“Look at me and swallow, Etta,” I order.
Blinking slowly, she lifts her gaze to me, then closes her mouth and drinks me down.
“Good fucking girl.”
19
ETTA
Cum tastes gross, but watching Oz watch me while I swallow a mouthful of his jizz is one of the most powerful experiences of my life. His eyes widen, and he holds his breath, staring down at me like I’m an ethereal being, not just me.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasps, his voice a gravelly drawl that vibrates through my pulsing core.
I don’t know if it’s the praise or the way he’s looking at me when he says it, but I feel like I could come without him laying a finger on me.
Bending down, he pulls me to my feet, collars my throat with his huge palm, then kisses me like he didn’t blow his load all over my tongue twenty seconds ago.
“You’re such a good fucking girl, Etta. That was fucking perfect,” he says reverently against my lips, kissing me again before he pulls me into a hug so tight I can barely breathe.
It feels wrong to have a warm, fuzzy feeling for being praised for giving good head, but the way he’s reacting feels like I’ve achieved something. Whenever he calls me his good girl, I feel like I won a prize, and I like it so much I’m prepared to never really consider what the reason is behind that.
“I wish I could take you to bed and spend the rest of the day making you feel as good as you just made me, but we really do have to get stuff set up for the barbecue,” Oz says, and I can hear the regret in his voice.
“Okay,” I agree, wishing we could go back to bed but knowing we can’t. When I woke up and he wasn’t here, I had a moment of panic that he’d left and wasn’t coming back—which is ridiculous because I was sleeping in his bed, in his house—but the fear I felt was very real.
In just a few short days, he’s altered me and changed my entire makeup, and somehow, he’s become vital to me. I don’t know when exactly it happened, but now that it has, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.
When I blurted out that I loved him, I hadn’t meant to say the words. But this morning was the first time I truly felt the truth of loving him. I hated waking up without him. I hated the emptiness of the house without his intense, all-consuming presence in it. I hated how much I’d wished he was there.
Instead of releasing me, he pulls me in tighter, and I sigh, relaxing into his chest, because I need him, and I think he needs me just as much.
The barbecue is actually a lot more fun than I expected. With Oz’s team, the Barnetts and their extended family, and the families of the smoke jumpers who are at work, we have quite a group, and once the grill has been lit, some music put on, and the firepit crackling, it becomes quite a party.
