Come down my throat like a good boy #3
And yet, as I gas it through the intersection, pants all zipped back up, everything between my thighs still aches deeply. It needs to be filled by something more than my two fingers, and I am beginning to see that with more and more clarity.
Fucking Atticus.
“Hi.” Miller’s greeting smile shook me to my fucking core. Literally, part of me wanted to cry as he said hello. Now that I’ve really admitted to myself and out loud how I feel, it feels nearly impossible to hide.
But I know it’s a mistake to say anything and would be pretty wrong of me, not to mention it would probably look like I roped him into this deal just because I was obsessed with him or something. And that’s just not true.
Instead of making a mistake, I channel that passion into bravery.
“I just put my car in park in the intersection of Flor and East Street and masturbated until I came.” I swallow and force backbone in my tone in place of nervousness.
His Adam’s apple crashes with his swallow. “Get in here,” he rasps, closing the door behind me as I hop inside.
He locks the door and turns to face me. “Why?”
I know what he’s asking, so I don’t play coy. “That spark plug lesson.” I smile and shake my head, loving the way his gaze chases my curls before coming back to me. “It got me thinking of what I’d be teaching you tonight.”
His jaw ticks. “And what would that be?” He steps close, shielding our mouths with his hand as Salsa stands inquisitive in the hallway. “You had your finger in my ass last night. I don’t know where we will go from there.”
I rock to my toes and focus on his lips, not his eyes when I kiss him. Holding his cheeks with my hands, I pepper kisses on his lips over and over, then say, “Don’t worry, I do.”
We separate so I can start peeling off layers of clothes, and when I’m sans my coat and scarf, my winter boots, and my cardigan, I weave my fingers with his and guide us slowly down the hall to his room.
Halfway there he whispers, “you didn’t say hello to Salsa.”
I shoot him a wink. “I’m more concerned with his daddy, first.”
Once we’re in his room with the door closed, I poke around his closet, snatching two neckties that are draped over the neck of a hanger .
“Got a big interview?” He beams with his sarcasm, and it’s so fucking cute.
“Har, Har,” I say, nodding toward the bed. “Get naked and sit with your back to the bedpost.” I put my hands on my hips and wait.
I think for a second he’s going to protest or question the plan, but a moment later, his t-shirt and sweats are in a heap on the floor. I nod to them as he steps out of his boxer briefs. “The Miller I knew folded his clothes and stacked them.”
He grins as he stands, holding his undies balled up in one hand down by his side.
There, rising from the full pink swell of his balls, is his magnificent cock, bobbing against his muscled belly.
Long with just the right amount of veins, a perfectly defined crown, and a thick, meaty shaft.
Everything about his cock and balls melts the sanity and reason in my brain.
I see his pink, slick head rising up with needy determination, and all I want to do is spread my legs and be pumped full of his cum.
I want it dripping from between my thighs.
“That was before I put my mouth on your tits.”
Whoa. Dirty talking Miller is not something I’m used to. Not at all. My pussy clenches, and my ribs work to contain my rapidly pumping heart.
“Gonna tie me up?” he questions happily, getting on the bed in the exact position I asked for.
I nod. “Yeah, and I’m gonna edge you until you burst.”
His crooked smile does dangerous things to me. “Won’t take long.”
I run the tip of my tongue along the length of my lips. “I’m gonna use my mouth.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t lose his adorable grin. “I’m never gonna last. ”
Smacking him playfully, I say, “you should have jerked off today!”
He brings his wrists together around the bedpost. “I did. Three times.”
I stop undressing, dead in my tracks. “ Three times ?!”
His eyes crawl over my body, stealing my breath for a moment. “I got a lot on my mind.” With that, he smiles. “Tie me up, Queen .”
I snicker a little at his choice of words. Taking a spot behind him, I loop the silk tie around his wrist, securing it slowly and carefully. “It’s funny you called me Queen…” I start.
“You are my Queen,” he whispers, making me freeze. “Don’t stop tying.”
I continue tying.
“What were you saying? Why is it funny?”
My voice fails me for a minute as I begin to recount my thoughts from earlier. “I had a dirty thought earlier. It was about… oral sex,” I stammer, suddenly nervous that he’ll find this private fantasy of mine totally over the top and a little terrifying.
“What?” he urges.
“Earlier, when I thought of going down on you, I likened it to a Queen falling to her knees for her King to polish his crown.” The silk whooshes against itself as I complete the first knot. Miller is quiet as I move onto the second, and my instincts rear up, ready to say I told you so.
“Yeah, this is going to be very, very quick,” he says on a breathy exhale after a moment. My whole body falls with relief, and I laugh, making him laugh. Once the second knot is secure, I swing over his shoulder and place a kiss on his cheek.
“Not about how long you last. It’s about enjoying it.
” Swiping the bottle of lube off the nightstand where we’d placed it last night, I position myself between his legs.
His cock bobs anxiously against him, and I reach for it, dragging my fingertip along the dark, wide slit.
Precum bubbles immediately, and Miller lets loose a dark, feral groan.
“Oh god, it’s already torture,” he moans.
I giggle. “It’s been less than ten seconds!”
He laughs with me, but the lights are on tonight, and I can see his flushed cheeks. He’s not embarrassed; he’s really just struggling.
“Edging,” I repeat. “We’re edging, so when you get close, hold it, and I’ll stop. We’ll reset, then keep going.”
“That is torture,” he groans, and I punish him with the back of my curled knuckle grazing the seam of his sac. “Okay, okay, I’ll be good.”
I nod. “Good boy.”
He shivers a little. “Fuck. I liked that name.”
I repeat it. “Good boy?”
He nods. “I’d fucking love to be your good boy.” He cocks his head to the side as I fill my palms with lube. “Is that a thing?”
I nod. “Oh yeah. If I was your domme, you could be my good boy. I’ve read that in books.”
“What’s that mean, if you were my domme?” he asks, watching me as I start massaging his taint and balls with my slick, lubed palms. His responsive groans make my clit throb.
“If I guided you sexually, and you were submissive to me, sexually.”
I lower my mouth to his cock and let my tongue tease the sticky tip. A deep rumble breaks loose from his chest. “So,” he manages through a moan. “How we are now.”
I bring my face to his and kiss him, letting him suck my tongue into his mouth. Shit, dirty Miller is so fucking hot. “I like it.”
I smile, moving the conversation forward because I like it too. But planning to take on the roles of domme and sub makes no sense when our lifespan is limited to two more weeks.
“Do you like your taste?” I ask, stroking my fingers through his soft, strawberry hair.
“I like tasting myself on you,” he says with a grin. Well shit, that was a good answer.
I lower my mouth to his cock, this time creating a seal with my lips right beneath the crown. My tongue worships his head as my hand slowly strokes the shaft toward my mouth. My name leaves his lips in a shattered rasp as his skin screeches against the wood, struggling with his arms.
I pop off and look up at him, his eyes captivated by my parted, spit-covered lips.
“Close?” I ask quietly, wanting to know if he needs a break.
He nods, still staring at my lips, like he’s in a sleepwalking episode and no one can get through to him. “You’re my first,” he pants, and it's now I notice a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over his pecs. “Blowjob,” he adds on another ragged exhale.
Using the tip of my tongue, I trace the bulging veins straining beneath his hot, hard flesh.
His cock bobs in response, the head slapping against my cheek.
He growls a string of curse words, which is so unlike the Miller I thought I knew.
But he’s right. He’s a different Miller now, one I like even more.
“Lame, right?” He says, a rivulet of perspiration sliding through the tight valley of his abs.
I bob between his legs, taking his cockhead into my mouth again. He’s saltier this time, and now when I bob down on him, taking some of his shaft down my throat, his thighs twitch beneath my palms.
“Break,” he pants, and I pop off, sitting up to find him looking drunk and sweaty. His eyes are hazy, and his hairline is damp from his discipline. “Thank you.”
I give him a moment to catch his breath, and when I lean forward again to suck him deeper this time, he stops me.
“Wait, wait,” he reasons, voice broken, thighs still trembling, abs flexed. “Can I…” he stumbles, catching his breath. “Can I taste you before you make me cum? So you’re on my tongue when I do?”
Oh my god. Whenever I think he’s hit his limit of how far we can push his comfort, he surprises me.
Getting to my knees, I close the slim gap between our bodies as I feed my fingers through the sides of his hair.
He’s so sweaty, and it turns me on even more.
Guiding him, I tilt his head just slightly, as he still nearly towers over me, even with me on my knee and him on his butt.
I bring his lips to my nipple, and a surge of heat zips up my spine as his lips crash down on me.
He moans as he sucks, his rock-hard cock slippery against my belly.
A tingle worms its way through me, leaving my core trembling yet filled with blazing heat. “No more,” I pant, truly panting because I’m out of breath, my mouth sticky with dehydration. I fall back into position at his legs and lower my mouth to his cock.
“Yes,” I moan as I tease his slick head. Licking along the hard ridge of his crown, his legs twitch, and his abs begin to quiver and flex in intermittent bursts.
“Break,” he grounds out, precum melting along his length in white ropes.
“Yeah, hold it,” I reply softly, releasing his cock with a pop. With the tips of my nails, I stroke lines down his balls. Jerking a little, his head drops forward, the squelch of his skin against the wood making my lips and face tingle a little. I have Miller on the edge right now. Me.
Holy shit. My belly tightens, and a familiar tingle rumbles through my veins. I’m going to orgasm from teasing him. Before I get him to orgasm.
In a rush, I bend over and bob down on his length until his head pokes the back of my throat, making me gag.
He attempts to give us distance by jerking his hips, but his tied-up state leaves him helpless.
I breathe around his thickness, bobbing down deeper on him again, my pussy aching, on the cusp of total explosion.
With my vision growing hazy, I keep his cock in my throat, letting my tongue writhe beneath his shaft.
“Laney.”
It’s not a plea to stop. It’s not asking for permission, either.
“Laney,” he moans again, his guttural timbre making my arms prick with heated interest. The way he’s saying my name, using my nickname, in a raw and vulnerable way. Like this is the most clandestine side of him, and I’m the only one privy to it. Privy to watching him unravel at my hand.
I pop off his length, earning me an angry groan, veins popping up in his forehead. I smile at him and enjoy the tortured want twisting his handsome, godly features. “Cum down my throat like a good boy.”
My orgasm spins off the rails, knocking around inside me, stealing my breath, making my head fall forward, sucking Miller deep in my throat.
“Laney.” The third time it's hardly a whisper. His cock thickens, flexing and pulsing in my mouth as he shoots his cum down my throat. Soft moans radiate from him as his release comes to an end, the wide slit of his cock dripping the last of his load onto my tongue. After I’m off his dick, I grab his face, my own orgasm still rattling my pussy and brain, and bring it to mine.
He’s panting, but immediately, his eyes fall on my open mouth, where the last of his load pools on my tongue.
I close my mouth and swallow, then crush our mouths together.
His tongue sweeps along mine, and we feed each other feral groans and out-of-breath promises until my pussy pulses for the last time, and my orgasm finally releases my rigid body.
Our kiss breaks, and I rock forward, out of breath, reaching for the ties.
He still hasn't said anything, but after I get both wrists undone, I kiss him on the lips, holding his face in my hands. It’s a slow and tender kiss, letting my tongue skate over his, letting my lips linger.
“You were such a good boy,” I whisper, smiling against his lips as I take another kiss. He wiggles his arms before wrapping them around me, crushing my body to his.
His lips slide across my cheek, landing on my ear as his cock rests thick and fat against my thigh. I just came, but my pussy still pulses in response. “I’m your good boy,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and unguarded.
And from there, we sink into the pillows, Miller tugging the comforter over us.
I grip his chest like it’s our last night together, and my lower half tightens with need.
I just swallowed his cum, and I’m still literally aching to have him inside me.
But we fall asleep together, and as much as I know I should get up and go home, I don’t.
Miller brings his lips to my ear as we doze, his still partially hard dick at my back. “Did you cum when you went down on me?”
I close my eyes and tap into that electric ecstasy I felt earlier. I came so hard. He made me feel so good just by feeling good himself.
“Yes,” I whisper back in the dark.
He holds me tighter. And his warmth and the steady thudding of his heart put me into a deep, deep sleep.