Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
But for some reason, this was different. Being used by Locke was both thrilling and degrading. I didn’t want him to think of me as just a willing mouth. But at the same time, him treating me like nothing but a vessel for his need turned me on more than I expected.
And I was way more interested in an orgasm right now than trying to get to the bottom of this esoteric morality.
His cock was fucking perfect. Thick and long. Satisfying without being intimidating. I’d savored every moment of sucking him off more than three years ago in his kitchen. Had replayed the moment way too many times while getting myself off. And I was shaking with the need to do it again.
“That’s it. You’re doing so good.”
His murmured words penetrated my lust-filled haze. I looked up at him and saw a flash of approval, of tenderness. But then it was gone, replaced by the intense, commanding stare he usually wore when looking at me.
“Get on with it,” he said gruffly. “I have work to do.”
His voice hitched on the last word because I’d already dialed it up a notch, deliberately letting myself gag as the head of his cock passed into my throat. Tears sprang from my eyes as I sucked in a breath and dropped deeply over him again, sucking and slurping, getting dirty and debauched. The sound of my gagging filled the small space and was soon joined by his grunts of pleasure and murmured encouragement.
“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he said in a rough voice. His hand was still firm in my hair, and his other hand came around behind my head to hold me against his groin as his cock settled into my throat for several long beats.
When he let me go, I gasped in a deep breath and then took him in again, cupping his tight sac in one hand and reaching for my own cock with the other.
It didn’t take much. As soon as I tasted the first spurt of his release and knew that I’d made him lose control, my own release took over. I quickly pulled off him to keep from accidentally biting him, which meant the last few threads of his release ended up on my chin as I threw my head back and gasped.
“Jesus fuck,” he said in a graveled voice.
I opened my eyes and saw him staring down at me. Tears streamed from my eyes, and snot and jizz probably covered my mouth and chin. It was hard to tell from the watery view I had of him whether he was satisfied or disgusted.
But then he lowered himself to the nearby couch and reached for a box of tissues in a wall caddy, carefully pulling a few out and reaching for me.
I stared at him as he moved me to kneel between his spread knees and began wiping my face.
“You’re a mess,” he murmured, handing me more tissues for the cum on my hand and clothes.
One of his hands held the side of my face while he carefully wiped around my eyes, nose, and mouth.
Instead of cleaning up my dick with the tissues he’d handed me, I continued to stare at him in shock. Who the fuck was this guy?
When he was done, he cleared his throat and stood up, stepping away from me and straightening his clothes. “Maybe now you’ll stop fidgeting.”
And then he was gone.
The door to the compartment closed again, leaving me alone with cold cum drying on my cock and hand.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
I stared at the door for another beat before hearing the muffled sounds of the flight attendant asking him a question about his coffee. I quickly moved to the rear lavatory and cleaned myself up, taking advantage of the healthy supply of luxury toiletries in a little cubby next to a stack of fluffy hand towels.
When I returned to the front of the plane, the flight attendant was setting the table with a white cloth and gleaming silverware. She made casual conversation with an attentive Locke, who was asking her about a recent visit home to visit her parents in Montana.
“Montana’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to spend some time there,” Locke mused.
“My family has a place in Montana,” I volunteered, stupidly wanting some of Locke’s attention. “In a tiny town called Legacy.”
I didn’t realize my mistake until I saw the surprise on his face. “They do? What kind of place?”
Yes, Jett, what kind of place would go-go boy Jethro’s family have? Fuck.
Why hadn’t I thought to refresh my memory about the finer points of Jethro’s cover story, when I’d literally lived a dozen lives since I’d last been Jethro? Double fuck.
The answer, I realized, was that I’d spent my time googling Locke instead. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Oh, uh… I just meant I have a couple of cousins who live there,” I backtracked, waving a hand vaguely.