Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
But then Foster had sucked me off for the first time the other day, and now I couldn’t stop fantasizing about reciprocating, imagining myself taking his big cock into my mouth and watching his eyes as he came apart.
“You going to kiss and make it better, Doc?” he asked, eyes bright and the edge of his lip curled up.
I rubbed my cheek against his thick, ruddy shaft, reveling in the sight and scent of him. The hair at the base of his cock sparkled with water droplets from the angled light over the vanity shining through the glass door.
“Want to make you feel good.” I ran my tongue along the shaft, from root to tip, imagining all the times I’d received the same kind of treatment, never in a million years imagining I’d be the one on my knees doing the same thing to another man.
I’d never felt so powerful and undone all at once. Knowing I was pulling those sounds from him, that I was the one making his fingers tighten in my hair and his quad muscles bunch.
I pulled his tip into my mouth and suckled it, toying with him but also exploring the feel of him on my tongue, testing the way certain moves made him react.
“Ah Jesus fuck, Tommy. Just like that. So good.”
I wanted to be good. Wanted to make him happy, make him feel a fraction of what he made me feel. I wanted to drive him to his knees with pleasure. And, yes, maybe there was a small part of me who wanted to show him what he’d miss when he walked away from me.
That thought was enough to spur me on, to double down on dragging my tongue along his shaft, sucking his balls into my mouth, and taking him as deep as I could, even when it caused me to gag.
The noise of my gagging echoed around us, but I didn’t let it stop me, especially when it seemed to make his dick even harder and his balls draw up.
“Coming, Tom. Fuck. Coming. Fuck!”
The salt hit my taste buds as the sting of his grip in my hair made my eyes smart. I realized belatedly he’d been trying to pull me off of him before his release hit.
Too late and too bad.
I wanted it. Wanted every ounce of this experience with him. I didn’t want to do a damned thing to take any of his pleasure away.
My mouth filled with his release, strange and tangy on my tongue. I choked and sputtered, exposing myself as the neophyte I was. My cheeks heated with embarrassment, but when I saw the look on his face—a mix of dazed bliss and something tender that made my chest ache—I realized I’d take any embarrassment again if it meant seeing that expression.
I wanted more than sex. I wanted permanence, even if I didn’t have the guts to say it out loud.
It took me a minute to realize the water had gone cold, but as soon as I did, the exhaustion and overwhelm from my trip and the events leading up to it hit me in full force.
“Hey, hey. Let’s get you dried off, okay?” Foster’s voice seemed to come through water. I stood up with his help, large hands under my arms. My eyes remained on his cock, enjoying the view of it still ruddy and fat against his damp thigh.
He was so fucking sexy, so powerful and attractive. I couldn’t imagine living my entire life without ever having had this experience and this feeling.
In a way, I felt… almost cheated. Like all of my gay and bi cousins, my uncles and friends, had been able to experience this sooner, know this part of themselves earlier.
But I was so fucking glad I knew it now.
“Tommy, look at me.”
I blinked up at Foster, who was somehow already wrapped in a towel and holding a toothbrush with toothpaste on it.
“My toothbrush,” I realized.
“Yes. Your toothbrush. Brush your teeth, baby. You’re wiped out. We never should have—ow!”
I yanked a hair on his chest. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare ruin my first blow job. My first rimming. My first…” I thought back to the sensation of his strong tongue on my ass, in my ass. “Lots of things,” I finished lamely. Because words would never do it justice.
Foster’s face softened. “Okay then. Brush your teeth, Cherry. We’ll have to finish your sexual awakening another time.”
I shoved the toothbrush into my mouth and began brushing. “Want to have anal sex,” I said through a mouthful of suds. “With you.”
His eyes darkened. “Better the fuck be with me. Unless you found some pretty boys in Stanford.”
I leaned against him as I brushed, grateful for his solid presence. “Lots of pretty boys.” When Foster’s mouth dropped into a frown, I leaned on him even more and added, “Don’t want pretty boys. Want my beefy sheriff.”