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I crawl up the bed beside him, running a hand up his thigh.
“You’ve been making me come for longer than you realize.”
He turns his head.
“What?”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you, Jesse,” I say. “About your hands on my body, your lips on my throat, your cock in my mouth.”
He drops his head back and groans, covering his eyes with his hand.
“Holy fuck.”
“Hold still.”
I position myself over him, careful not to put my weight anywhere that will hurt him, and lick my way up his shaft. His dick pulses, and the tip is moist with pre-cum.
“Marci, are you sure you want to do this? I can’t fucking?—”
“Yes. Stop worrying,” I say, and then I lift his cock and suck the tip into my mouth, lapping him up.
Jesse makes a noise halfway between choking and moaning, and it makes me so wet I squirm. Because I have this power over him, because he desires me this much.
“How many times have you come because of me?”
He hisses.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck. Countless times. I wish I could make you come. This is torture.”
“Youaregoing to make me come. How long has it been since you started touching yourself and thinking about me?”
Jesse swallows.
“How long, Jesse?” I ask.
“Years.”
“Years?”
“Years. I’ve wanted you for years, Marci,” he says. “I’ve dreamed of you looking at me like you need me rather than hate me.”
I pop the tip of his dick into my mouth again and suck, tracing my tongue over the underside of his head, finding the sensitive ridge.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He grips the white bedding and balls it up in his hands.
“Relax, baby,” I say, brushing my fingers over his toned abdomen. “Relax.”
“How can I fucking relax when you’ve got my cock in between those pretty lips?”
“Because I asked you to. I can’t keep doing it if you’re going to hurt yourself,” I say. “No matter how much I want to.” I drag my tongue over the underside of his dick. “Tell me how you like it.”
“Slow and steady.”
“I need more than that. I’ve never… I’ve never done this before with anyone,” I say.
His dick throbs in my hand.
