Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
One long, slow slick is delivered to his lips, likely to buy him time to collect his composure. “What about a round of regular golf?”
I lean in closer at the same time I salaciously state, “Not that either.”
Gravelly groans are poorly stifled.
Angling my face towards the other members of our group, I slyly suggest, “Why don’t you two play on?” He anxiously grips the fabric in his grasp tighter. “We’ll catch up.”
Jer makes no effort to argue, inspiring Bryn to wordlessly follow his lead.
The two of them thoughtlessly continue onward with our security guards in close range, yet the two of us consciously trek backward to search for the privacy needed.
We maneuver around a couple of other small groups on the course.
Two security guards.
A cocktail waitress.
Eventually, we cross paths with a janitor who – for two Frankies – grants us access to the keycard needed, employees only stockroom where our mouths frantically mesh together in a mess of tongues and teeth and moans before the door even shuts.
While dropping to my knees to enjoy a new mouthcapade was initially the idea, J.T.’s hand greedily cupping my face as his fingers tangle themselves in my hair, deliciously delays the adventure.
How he manages to pair the tugs of my strands to the same speed of his wild lashes is mindboggling.
And breathtaking.
Yet each breath he steals seems to only fuel him to work his tongue faster.
Harder.
Whip and whirl and whirl and whip until I’m not sure if I’m whimpering for more or for mercy.
Pawing at the button to his shorts, desperate to have more of him, feel more of him, seems to be frivolous and fruitless, but I don’t stop.
I repeatedly fondle the territory in a blatant refusal to give up.
Determined to be a champion.
The one thing I’ve always been.
Knowing all I need is our lips separated for a split moment, I purposely run my palm along the hard length of his imprisoned cock, prompting him to pull back on a chesty grumble, “Fuckkkkk, Beloved. I wanna come in your mouth, not in my shorts.”
Smugness radiates through my smirk. “I’ve never had a guy do that for me.”
“And I never wanna be the guy that does that for you.”
Small snickers escape us both prior to me successfully undoing the button to his bottoms.
Lowering them along with his boxer briefs to the ground.
I do my best not to gawk at the mouthwatering sight I’ve been blessed with but fail.
Happily.
Miserably.
Fail.
One, thick, drop of pre-cum sits tauntingly on the tip of his dick, daring me to stop admiring its long length, jeering me to drop my jaw to swallow his thickness, challenging me to do it in a single, flawless motion.
Which I do.
Inching him inside would’ve been the wiser and safer or at least smarter play but that’s not me.
That’s not my style.
Risks for rewards has always been my policy.
Will always be my policy.
And something tells me that that’s exactly what J.T. needs in his partner.
Even if it’s just for the next few days.
“Fuckkkkk,” groans the man above me for a second time, “that feels so goddamn good.”
The urge to smirk is beat by the one to brush my lips against the very base of his cock.
“Too…” he airily groans, fingers returning back to my disheveled locks, “good…” An abrupt yank sends me backwards to the point his tip is all that’s resting on my tongue. “You wanna get me off quick, don’t you?”
I roll my tongue around in a slow circle before sliding completely off to reply, “Maybe.”
“Well, maybe I wanna see those eyes while you swallow my load.”
Another lick along his slit is delivered.
“And maybe I wanna see you fucking your hand while I fuck your face.”
Delighted shock threatens to have me swiftly swallowing him again.
“I’ve never had a chick touch herself while she blew me,” he informs on a wolfish grin. “Be my first, Beloved.”
Whether it’s his tone or words or the thought of being his first something that leads to me popping the button to my jean shorts is ultimately unclear; although, I really don’t think it matters.
Creating enough space to slip a hand inside matters.
Spreading my thighs a bit wider to accommodate my fingers matters.
Loving the way his hazel eyes roll back into his head when I moan around his cock as I lightly brush my clit matters.
Right now, the only thing I give a shit about is getting us both off.
And the fact his pleasure is amplified by me getting pleasure tells me it won’t take long.
Not that I’m complaining.
Who doesn’t love a quick and dirty orgasm on vacation?
“You look so fucking perfect like this,” growls J.T., hooded vision latching onto my own. “And even more like this,” he states in tandem with diving his hold back into my hair, “but especially like this…” One forceful rock forward sends his dick soaring across my tongue, igniting an anxious whimper; however, it’s the second lunge that’s gets me moaning. Mimicking his thrusts with my hand. Curling my manicured finger inside while my lacy thong aides in securing it in place. “That’s it, beloved.” The scraping of my scalp unleashes more whimpers. “Just like that.”