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"Look at you," he whispers, breathing hard. "I love your make-up," he grins, his devilish eyes narrowing into slits as he takes in the sight. I can only imagine how I must look right now; I probably resemble a wax figurine, painted in white from the waist up. By now, his cum has started dripping down
from my tits and over my stomach, and I can feel his warm juices reaching for that wet spot between my thighs.
Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I let go of his cock and grab my tits, sliding my fingers over his cum and squeezing my flesh as a moan bubbles up to my lips. As if my fingers suddenly gained a life of their own, they slide down the curve of my tits and then go over my stomach, easily sliding over the layer of cum Aidan kindly gave me. I take one hand to between my legs, and then bite my lower lip as I press down on my clit with two fingertips.
Grinning as he watches me do it, Aidan slides down from his chair and kneels right in front of me, taking his hands to my breasts and squeezing them. My flesh molds to his fingers, and he starts smearing his cum all over my naked body, spreading it around with the tip of his fingers.
"Go on," he whispers, leaning into me and brushing his lips against my ear. "I want to watch you come," he continues, and then crushes his mouth against mine. I start stroking my clit harder and, unable to resist it, take my other hand to my pussy. Parting my inner lips, I slide my middle finger in, curling it upward and taking it straight to my G-spot.
Fingering myself as Aidan’s tongue explores the inside of my mouth, I realize that it won’t take long for me to come as well. I feel strands of his cum coating both of our tongues as they dance around one another, and just thinking of that is enough to make the rhythm of my fingers speed up into a frenzy.
"Come, babe, come for me," he whispers, now taking his lips to my chin and laying a gentle kiss there. He takes his mouth in a downward line straight to between my tits, scooping up his own cum in the way, and then his lips go straight for my right nipple. I moan loudly as he sucks it inside his mouth, lapping at it with a fierce intensity.
I press my finger against my G-spot and hold it there, feeling that sweet electricity pooling in my muscles. My other hand is busy with my clit, and a tidal wave of ecstasy already looms large on the horizon of my mind. It’s coming for me, and it’s going to pull me down into the depths of pleasure. And knowing that Aidan’s busy with my body, his lips and tongue scooping up his own cum, makes it all so much better. He truly seems to have no limits.
I have to remember to thank Cheryl. If it weren’t for her, I would've never accepted to sit down in front of Aidan for a meeting. But I did, and our meeting turned into this dance of sin and lust. God bless you, Cheryl, you’re the best agent money—or, well, friendship—can buy.
I press my legs together as that wave crashes against me, pleasure hitting me so fiercely that I throw my head back so fast I almost break my neck and fall backward. Luckily, Aidan places one hand around my waist and holds me in place, his lips never letting go of my nipple. Hissing through my gritted teeth, it feels as if I’ve just stepped on a live electric wire. My muscles are twitching hard, and I can even feel my eyes rolling in their orbits.
I’m breathing so hard it’s almost a miracle I haven’t passed out, but I’m still conscious—at least for the time being.
"Jesus, this was something else," I say, more to myself than to him. His response comes without words; he presses his lips against mine, and this time his kiss is a gentle one. A kind one.
"You weren’t kidding," he tells me then, both his hands going down to my waist. "This was probably the best blowjob I've had in my entire life."
"Of course it was," I respond, trying to sound as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But, inside, I’m swelling with pride. It’s not every day that I hear something like that, especially coming from a sex god like Aidan.
Why don’t all my days start like this?
Aidan
"Are you even listening to me?" Abby asks.
We're sitting at the table, our laptops open—Abby's sitting directly across from me and I know we're supposed to be brainstorming the story for our book, but after receiving the world's best blowjobs the last few days, I can't keep my eyes off of her fucking tits. I mean, she's wearing this low-cut tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. I'm fucking serious. It's white and I can even see the outlines of her perfect nipples under the fabric.
How does she expect me to concentrate?
"My eyes are up here," she says, waving her hands at me.
"Right," I say. "Back to the book."
"I know I've said this before," she continues, "but I want this story to revolve around guys with big dicks. The bigger the better. I'm talking a good 12 inches … and lots of 'em."
I laugh. "You know it's not jut about size, right?"
"I don't know what planet you're from Mr. Size Doesn't Matter, but it's always about size," she grins. "Mark my words. Always."
"Hear me out. It's not the size that matters, but what a guy can do with it."
She rolls her eyes. "How cliché of you, Aidan. Believe me, I've had a small cock, and it just didn't do it for me. I can promise you that."
"Can I be honest with you?" I ask.
"Of course. Always."
"I think you hold back."
She looks at me for a moment before responding, a confused look on her face. "What's the supposed to mean?"
