Page 58 of Jesse

My smile creeps across my face as I tilt my head up to lock eyes with him.

“I’m telling you,” he says. “You’re not gonna win. You know I’m better at this than you are. You’re about to give me what I want. You’re on your fucking knees with my cock in your—”

He doesn’t get any farther. Because I take my pouty little mouth right up to the tip of his cock and plump my perfect lips around his head.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Then opens them real fast like he didn’t mean to do that.

But he totally did that.

It takes some concerted effort on my part not to laugh.

Was this my plan when I came up with the idea to out-power-date him today?

No. But so what? He put me here, he’s refusing to back down, he’s being cocky—so this is what he gets.

A little blow job is a small price to pay to see the look on his face when this is all over and he realizes—this is all over.

I take him a little deeper. My hand still working its magic. In fact, I double-hand him. Two fists around his fat cock.

Hmmm. I lower my eyes from his to get a better look at it.

It is kinda fat. Nice and thick. And long.

I’d forgotten how nice and thick and long, actually.

But so what? That’s just good for me, isn’t it?

Wait, no. I’m not going to fuck him. Eye on the prize, Emma. And the prize is…

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jesse moans. He’s got both hands on my head now and he’s rocking his hips with the rhythm of my motion. Pushing his cock a little bit deeper with each forward thrust. And I have to admit, this is kinda hot.

Wait, what was the prize again?

Yeah. I remember. I’m the boss here. Not him.

“Put your hands on my legs,” he says.

I glance at his legs. Notice the muscles of his thighs through his tight jeans. Jesus, he’s got nice thighs too.

“Do it,” he says.

I don’t do it because he tells me to. I do it because I just want to feel those muscular thighs for myself.

Oh, God.

“Yes,” Jesse says. “Rub them. I like that.”

I am rubbing them. His jeans are soft, but I suddenly wish he wasn’t wearing them.

He fists my hair and starts to thrust forward with a little more determination. And now that my hands aren’t in charge of how deep he enters me, he takes advantage of his newfound power and makes me gag.

I press on his thighs, pushing him back a little to give myself some space. But he doesn’t yield to my subtle hint and I just barely gain enough distance to stop his cock from sliding down my throat.

OK. Fine. I see what he’s doing. It’s hard to get the upper hand when you’re giving a blow job, but certainly not impossible.

I might not be a blow job expert, but I’m no amateur.

My eyes lock with his, daring him to give me what he’s got.