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His hard shaft points up while I run my fist down on it.
I can’t wait to take him into my mouth and taste the moisture breaking at the tip of his crown.
He lets go of me, heaving, while I pull down and wrap my mouth around his hard-on.
His pants are still clinging to his hips as I bob my head and give him a few strokes.
Not for long, though.
He removes his shoes, and I peel his pants off. He steps out of them in front of me. My back is propped against the bed while he stands in front of me.
I look up. He peers down. Our hands meet around his hard meat. He lets me stroke him, his eyes narrowed at me, no tease on his face, only sharp focus.
I take him into my mouth again and swirl my tongue around his flesh, emboldened by his expression.
He likes me here at his feet. He likes me alive, filled with different emotions. He likes me living in the moment and following his lead.
It’s like breaking me. Making me go a certain way. And he’s succeeded. At least for now.
He cups my cheek while I pull him deeper until he hits the back of my throat. My head moves rhythmically, my eyes still locked with his.
He finally smiles, entertained, content.
What a big difference from this morning. How strikingly different our story is. How beautiful the music, the place, his touch, and my earnestness.
Life is beautiful, isn’t it? If only he and I could find the secret ingredient to make it work like that all the time.
He becomes tenser as my strokes get firmer, and he presses himself against my throat.
With every thrust, he hardens more. I move my fist, making his erection wet.
When he moans, I bury him in my mouth.
Every flick of my tongue makes his pulse beat faster.
He gets to that point. I see it in his stance and eyes. His stare is unfocused, foggy, steamy, lustful. The things he’d like to do to me… The things he’d want to feel with me.
My mouth waters as I watch him sail toward the peak. I want him to come. I want him to shoot his load into my mouth as much as I want him to be in bed with me.
He rocks his hips against my mouth, and I increase my pressure against his hardness, making him lose control.
His eyes become steamy gray waters before closing, his lips agape, the pleasure coming fast to him.
A few seconds pass while he fucks my mouth with unrestrained pleasure, and then I feel the tension in his grip and the warmth inside my throat, his scent in my nostrils.
His grip is like iron before he puts a bit of self-control in it.
I don’t mind it. I’m too caught in his expression. That mix of power and threatened control. Dominant and surrendering at the same time. He hasn’t surrendered much, although he’s given me plenty to think about.
I swallow his load and whatever drips from his shaft, and he enjoys it, shuddering from time to time until he finally opens his eyes and looks at me.
A soft grin pulls at his lips.
He helps me up and holds me in his arms, his heart beating strongly inside his chest.
Eventually, we catch our breaths.
“We still have some time left…” he murmurs before I tilt my face up and look at him.
