Page 90 of Put a Rink on It

We reach Kaitlyn’s Traverse. “Only if I ask nicely?” I taunt.

“Or you give me orgasms. The choice is yours.” She flicks her hair, my dick on high alert.

“That’s a no-brainer.” I open the passenger door, pushing her inside. She’s barely all the way in when I close it behind her, rounding the hood with a restraint I didn’t know I possessed. Must be residual left over from golf. Keeping my vision in front of me, I slide behind the wheel. I can’t let my resolve crack.

It’s not until the car’s started and we’re driving away from the country club that she breaks. “Well? What’s it going to be?” She’s on edge. I love her this way—sexually frustrated and at my mercy.

Not until we’re pulling into my parents’ driveway and the car’s off do I say, “Marina, can you please try on the red dress for me when we get back to the hotel?”

Her mouth drops open, a small squeak exiting. Oh yeah, I’ve got her right where I want her.

Problem is, she’s not the only one aching.

A tingle slides up my back, my impending release on its way.

I peer down at her, her head in my lap, my cock fully encased in her mouth. Her blow job skills improve each time, and this one is her best yet. “I’m close, Ships.”

Marina bobs her head in response but sucks me in deeper. The sensation is all I need to blow. Her movements don’t let up as I fuck her mouth, my orgasm coating her throat. She swallows a few times, taking it all. Until it’s too much for her mouth to hold, and it dribbles down her chin.

On an erotic high, I slide back on the bed, and she releases me with a pop, her tongue licking her chin. “That’s hot.”

“I know,” she claims. She leans back, resting on her propped arms, her thighs together. “It’s hot for me, too. Watching you get off, completely unhinged, completely my doing.”

Fitting my arms under her armpits, I lift her onto the bed, lying us face-to-face. “Give me a few minutes. I want you in front of the mirror while I take you from behind.”

Her eyes grow large. “Fuck, that’s hot.” Her legs shimmy together, her want doubling. “Don’t make me wait too long, k?”

“I’m doing my best, but let me remind you—you suggested the blow job first. I was perfectly content with sex.”

“You didn’t say it would be hot sex,” she protests.

“Is any of what we share not hot?” I counter.

She’s quiet for several heartbeats before a sigh expels. “It’s all hot, Nero. Every time is better than the last. When I think it can’t possibly get better, you prove me wrong. Stop being so good at this.”

“Pfft. The minute I stop being good, you’ll have something to say about it.”

She giggles, her tits bouncing. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe never stop being good at this.”

“Better plan. Okay, hands against the mirror, legs spread wide, butt out,” I direct. She sits up, her hair falling against her shoulders. “How about a ponytail to give me something to pull?”

“I love when you’re demanding. That probably makes me weak, catering to your every whim, but it’s like I can’t help myself wanting to please you.” She makes quick work of tying her hair back in a ponytail, and for good measure, I give it a pull. “And this is why I bend to your every whim. You turn me on every chance you get, intentionally or not. And I’m soaking it up as long as we’re doing this.”

With her statement issued, she hops off the bed, positioning herself in front of the mirror as I requested.

I don’t let her “as long as we’re doing this” comment get to me but stay here in the present moment, a much better experience.

Standing behind her, I glimpse her reflection.

Her blue eyes like glass.

Her flushed cheeks.

Hair matted against her forehead.

“My gorgeous girl.” I don’t mean to voice the comment and only confirm I’ve done so when she smiles.

“My handsome hunk,” she mimics. “Do your worst, Champ.”