Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“I didn’t want you to stop, so I buried your head in my pussy and I came again and. . .you just kept licking.”
“Fuck. . .Tora.” My fingers slid beneath my boxer briefs. I freed my cock and stared down at it. “You’ve got me so hard.”
She let out a moan.
Soft.
Barely audible.
But it slipped through the line like a secret not meant to be shared.
And fuck. . .that moan wrecked me.
I looked down at my cock—thick, weighty, flushed deep with blood. At the crown of my engorged cock, nestled in the swollen head, glinted the gold barbell of my piercing—shaped like a delicate rose.
The petals were smooth, sculpted by a Tokyo artist who owed me a life debt.
No thorns.
Just soft curved petals meant for pressure and pleasure.
The soft cabin light kissed the petals.
I grinned slowly, wickedly, as the ache within me deepened. “Tell me, Tora. . .when you imagined my cock in your dream, did you happen to envision a piercing?”
She hesitated. “A piercing?”
“Yes.”
She breathed, half-laughing. “No. . .do you. . .have one on your cock?”
My smirk widened. “I do. And you’ll find your G-spot will like it very much.”
“Well. . .” Her voice lowered into a sultry murmur that lit up every nerve in me. “I want to see it.”
Groaning, I leaned my head forward, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. “Careful, Tora. You’ll have a hundred pictures of my cock sent to your phone before we even hang up.”
She laughed again—that warm, throaty sound that made my spine hum like a struck chord.
God, I was becoming addicted to that laugh.
I wanted to chase it.
Frame it.
Pin it to the walls of every room in my mansion.
“Kenji. . .why did you get the piercing?”
I glanced down at my cock and thought of the lines from a poem I’d once read. “Pain split me open. Pleasure stitched me shut.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m still not sure.” I gripped my cock and kept my hands still around the hard length. “I got the piercing to remind myself that control isn’t always about force. Sometimes, it’s about how deeply you can make a person feel without breaking them.”
“You’re always so deep.”
“I could go deeper.”
And I damn sure wasn’t talking about words. I was thinking about my cock plunging deep into her wet pussy.
My cock twitched in my palm, hot and desperate, the metal rose pressing deep into the head—adding that edge I craved. “How did the dream end, Tora?”
She didn’t speak right away, but I heard her breathing shift.
Quickening.
That silence between us?
It wasn’t empty.
It was heavy with hot lust.
And it told me she wasn’t just listening.
She was dreaming again.
About me.
About my cock.
Pre-cum beaded at the tip.
I wanted to jack off right on the phone with her, but I held myself back.
“Well. . .” She lowered her voice. “After you made me cum twice. . .I leaned over and jacked you off.”
That did it.
Her words crackled down the line like electricity.
My body jolted.
Fuck.
I slowly ran my fingers down my cock, trying to relieve my desire, but it didn’t help. It only drove me madder.
“You begged for me to untie you.”
My hand stilled. “And did you?”
“I told you no. I told you I might leave you there, dripping and denied.”
Groaning, I gave my cock another long stroke.
Slow.
Savoring.
And then I curved my palm around the mushroomed tip and brushed my thumb over the ridge where the gold rose piercing bloomed from the head—smooth petals pressing into tender skin, glistening now with fresh pre-cum.
The soft hum of the aircraft vibrated faintly.
Then I exhaled.
Long.
Measured.
As if she knew what I was doing, Nyomi added this sexy tone to her words. “I jacked your cock. Fisted it tight.”
A low groan rumbled from my chest.
My knees almost buckled.
To get some sense of restraint, I let my hand drift downward.
Slowly.
I palmed my balls.
My fingers cupped the weight of them—warm, full, swollen with hunger.
The ache in my balls and cock was exquisite.
Heavy.
The skin on my balls was sensitive but not fragile—soft like velvet stretched over delicate muscle. Smooth, but with the faintest give beneath my fingertips.
Heat radiated from them.
“Did I cum, Tora?” I rolled my balls gently in my hand.
They shifted, slick with the thinnest sheen of sweat.
My fingertips grazed along the seam where the sac tightened—the natural line that always felt more tender when arousal surged. There, the skin puckered slightly under my touch, drawing them in tighter.
“You came,” she whispered. “Hard. Spilling all over my hand.”
Goddamn it.
A more deranged man would have just started jacking off in a grunting daze.
Gritting my teeth, I let my hand stay cupped on my balls, fingers curved, thumb lazily caressing the seam between my sac and hungry shaft.
I watched my cock rise a little—just a small lift in the air from the movement.
Another bead of pre-cum welled at the slit, catching the cabin light before sliding in a slow, trembling line down the front of my cock.