Chapter Fifteen
The moment Evan’s lips wrap around the head of my dick, I’m a goner.
An absolute freakin’ astronaut, because I’m out of this world.
What the heck was I even thinking by telling him to use me like some sort of experimentation instrument, as if I could maintain that separation between just sex and catching feelings?
I wasn’t, that’s what. Because it’s not like this is the first blowjob I’ve ever gotten—and, let’s face it, it’s evident Evan is a total newbie at this—but it’s because I’m getting some sort of thrill over watching Evan take what he wants.
And what he wants, apparently, is to pleasure the dickens out of me.
Again.
I doubt that, by the time I finally get some sleep tonight, there will not be a single dicken left in me. Actually, you know what? That’s false. I may have used the wrong pseudo-swear. I mean, I’d like to have a dick in me, but I know that’s not going to happen… it’s far too soon.
Maybe I’ll stick to the term ‘bejeezus’ instead of ‘dickens.’
He’s sucking nonsensical terminology right out of me now. Great. Just wonderful.
Actually, you know what? The distraction is kind of necessary, so maybe I can last a little longer this time. Blowing my load so quickly before was a little embarrassing, but, ugh—I couldn’t help it! I know I told him to use me like a sex toy, but I felt like anything but that.
I’m trying not to snap my hips, though every ounce of me wants to shove myself into his face. He’s taking his time, learning this new skill, so I’m going to lay back and enjoy this—even though it’s making me twitchy to do so.
Suddenly, Evan swirls his tongue around my engorged tip again, and I make some kind of noise—not even a word—and I know I’ve officially gone off the deep end.
I’m moaning out nonsensical crap, and I can’t even think coherently. I can tell you who can do what though: Evan can learn quickly how to suck a dick, My-lanta. His hot mouth is doing wondrous things to me. I’m struggling to keep my hands from balling into fists in his hair.
Also, thank the heavens for that little extra time I had to spend in the shower today for some self-care. I am glad I finally got to trim the hedges, so his first foray into giving blowjobs wasn’t met with him getting a face full of my pubes. I already feel exposed enough.
He doesn’t even seem to mind that I have a comparatively narrower penis than him. In fact, I think it’s actually making it easier for him to practice the act of giving a blowie. For once, my pencil dick isn’t being made fun of.
That's… different. Nice.
He’s drawing noises out of me that aren’t quite song, but must sound like music to his ears, because every time I make any sort of noise, he picks up the pace a little or adds some special attention to the sensitive underside of my head.
He hasn’t forgotten about my balls either, though, which is also very nice.
I wouldn’t expect such gentle, tender rolling with such strong, calloused hands.
Oh, he definitely wants to make me come again, without me being able to return the favor. I saw how hard he was before he buried his face in my lap, and that level of erectness has to hurt. I bet I could’ve done a whole body plank on that monster, and it’d hold me up.
I offered to take care of him, though, back in the stream. I really did. But then he melted me by nudging my hand out of the way and telling me, ‘If you take over, I won’t be able to memorize everything about you.’
I almost drowned there, on the spot. I mean, who freakin’ says that in real life?!
He probably just meant it as a generalization, about the experience, rather than actually me—but my stupid, lovesick heart flip-flopped around in my ribs nonetheless. I’m such a romantic. Sounds cliché, but I really am hopelessly so.
Kai pokes me about it all the time, when he can see I’m struggling to separate our past from our current encounters. He’s always quick to remind me that what we do in his bedroom—or the backseat of the rust bucket—stops there though. There, I feel like I’m truly being used as a sex toy.
Technically, this right now should feel no different—I’m simply an implement here, while Evan works on exploring his sexuality—but it does feel different. It feels charged and reverent at the same time. I can’t let myself fall for this man, though. I simply can’t.
I feel Evan pull off me with a pop, leaving a trail of spit from the tip of my dick to his mouth, before his tongue darts out and captures it. “Am I not doing okay? You got pretty quiet up there…” he asks me, nerves lacing his tone.
I reach down and run my fingers through his hair. He blinks, eyes full of concern. He needn't fret. I worry that if I were to flip over, my needle-dick could probably pop a hole in this sleeping pad.
“You’re doing fine,” I console him, running my hand down his cheek.
“I want to do better than fine,” he huffs, propping himself up on his elbows between my spread thighs. “What do I have to do to make this better?”
“It’s nothing you’re doing wrong. It’s the one-sided attention that I can’t get past,” I tell him.
He cocks his head to the side, taking the request in. His brows knit. “Has no one ever pleasured you without expecting repayment?”
I hesitate for a beat, letting that question really soak in.
“Brooks—” He fixes me with a heated glare. “I told you, I want to memorize everything about you. I’ve been doing it for weeks now, outside this new sexual stuff. You give and you give. Who gives you anything back with no expectation of anything in return?”
“No one,” I blurt out, before I have a chance to overthink a more apropos, less pathetic sounding, answer.
In response, he presses a kiss to my inner thigh.
“Let me be clear, then. I want your hands, your mouth, your anything on me more than I want air to breathe. Right now, however, I want one thing even more. I want you to feel appreciated, needed, desired. I want to watch you come—to hear you shout my name into these treetops—as I draw every last drop of cum out of you with my mouth. I want to learn how to worship you, without distraction. Please, let me do this for you, Brooks.” He presses me with another kiss.
Well, okay then.
Definitely did not expect that from the man whose late spouse accused him of being dull in the sack.
That sounds far less generalized than before. It sounds far less ‘using me to experiment’ than before, that is. But lust will make you say some crazy things sometimes, as I’ve demonstrated for the jury mere moments ago.
Surely, once this night is over, and we’re back to our day-to-day, he’ll come to his senses, and I’ll be the one left with a shredded heart, thinking this was personal.
There’s no use in arguing with the stubborn man though, and I’m not foolish enough to wind up getting blue balls over being just as hot headed back.
Self-preservation be damned, I nudge my hips up slightly, offering him my concession.
He takes it and runs with it. Gagging, licking, sucking, teasing—he worships me with his mouth and throat, just as he promised.
When I come for the second time tonight, the treetops do indeed hear me shouting out his name, singing his praises for the moon and all the stars as well.
I don’t even need to clean off, he’s done that all for me with his tongue. Much to my surprise, yet again, he didn’t back down from swallowing my entire load. In fact, he looked hungry for it, instead of nervous about trying it.
When he finally sits up on his knees, wiping the rest of me from his lips with the back of his hand, I notice the large, sticky looking spot he left behind on the sleeping pad. It appears that in bringing me to my own release, he’d found his as well.
I catch him looking down at the spot, embarrassment lining his features. I bring his face close to mine, reassuring him with a kiss. “It’s okay, Evan,” I tell him. “In fact, it’s kind of a compliment…”
“I’ve never done that,” he admits.
“What, orgasmed?” I tease, trying to lighten him up. “Well, happy first eruption then, Vesuvius. Pretty sure that’s a lie though, unless Colton is adopted. Which I seriously doubt, since he looks just like I presume you did at that age.”
He scowls. “Not funny. You know what I mean. I’ve never just blown my load like that before. Usually it takes me forever to come, if I do at all. Half the time, I used to get all in my head and go limp.”
Avoiding the mess, I pull up behind him and hug his naked body into mine. “So what you’re saying is, I made you go out of your mind…” I joke, relieved that I wasn’t alone in that respect.
But he doesn’t return the laugh. Instead, he nods. “You did. I could replay that moment, over and over in my head, and get myself off every time.”
Okay, wow. I know I’m past the point of not allowing this to go on longer than tonight, now.
But I still need to be firm about this being just for the summer instead.
I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my cheek on his shoulder.
“Well, for the next month and a half, you won’t have to replay anything in your head.
You’ll have the real deal to practice on, if you so choose. ”
He stiffens beneath me. “Why the expiration date?”
“Uh, because you have your life outside of here, and I have mine? We both have our responsibilities, and your home, your life, is across the state.”
It pains me to remind him of this, but it’s true. This, whatever this even is right now, is a product of our proximity. We’re in a bubble here. Once the season is over, however, that bubble bursts.
The sun will set on the third day without a true love’s kiss, Ariel will poof back into her mermaid tail, and we go back to reality. Prince Evan sails off on his ship, leaving me to the briny sea.