Chapter Eight #2
“Do you think he would do that?” I spied Lady peeking her black nose over the edge of the coffee table.
I gave her a firm no, which got me another sigh before her nose disappeared.
“I don’t really know much other than watching the Scottish sheepherders on YouTube, but I read.
A lot. And I’d be happy to watch more videos.
I don’t have a lot of money, so if Bill wants to be paid—and he should if he’s spending time with her—I can swap time training with some farm work, or maybe some home repairs.
I’m really pretty good with a hammer and nails.
Oh, and measurements. I like measuring and working out dimensions on—”
He leaned over to place his lips on mine, cutting off the blabbering that I was about to unleash on him.
Kissing was much more fun than telling him about how Paul liked to brag about my superior visual-spatial abilities and keen attention to detail.
I received numerous little paper awards for my dedication to the job.
I moved into the kiss, lying over him, tipping him back to the cushions as I moved to settle between his legs.
His hands cupped my ass as his tongue slid into my mouth.
He tasted of ginger and soy sauce. His lips were soft, his body firm.
We tasted each other over and over, breaking apart for a quick inhale before our mouths sealed again.
Rolling my hips into him, our cocks rubbing, our kisses grew more frantic.
He made long, hot passes up and down my throat, sucking hard in spots as I gyrated madly.
“God above, I need to get your cock into my mouth,” Aiden panted as he kneaded my ass like a ball of sourdough bread. I stared down at him then fell. Right into those sensual dark eyes. I’d give this man permission to do anything to me with no regrets. “Would you like that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I would.” I sat up, my ass resting on his thighs, and went for my zipper. His eyes rounded as he licked his puffy lips like a hungry dog looking through a butcher’s window. My fingers felt like balloon fingers as I jerked on my fly. “I don’t…the damn zipper…”
“Let me,” he cooed softly, batting my fat, dumb fingers aside.
He undid my belt first, whispering things that made me quiver all over.
“I love this soft blond hair on your belly,” he whispered as the belt fell open and my zipper began to slowly, slowly, slowly be eased downward.
He ran the backs of his fingers over the thickening curls, teasing me, his eyes the color of dark roast coffee glowing with passion.
“Do you want me to slip your dick out and kiss the head?”
“Yeah, please, yeah,” I huffed, unable to concentrate past the throbbing in my prick. “I can get it out if you—”
“Nope, I want to free that beast,” he kidded, smiling a sinful smile that made me choke out a weak laugh before I sucked in a shocked breath as his fingers slid into my briefs. “Mm, damn, you’re a leaker. That turns me on. So eager to nut. Move up. That’s right. Perfect.”
My ass now rested on his chest. Tipping forward, I braced my arms on the arm of the sofa and watched in fascination as he released my ass to find the jar of duck sauce on the table.
He lifted his head just enough to flick the tip of his tongue to gather up the droplet of cum that had oozed out.
A groan, long and low, rolled out of me as his eyes closed in ecstasy.
“Delicious.” He pulled me fully out, licking his lips to smear the taste of my spunk over his lips before he glanced from my cock to my face.
“This is a beautiful dick. Perfectly sized to slide down my throat. Can you do that? Can you feed me your cock inch by inch?”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that. I need to do it soon, though.”
“Patience, Ford.” He dipped two fingers into the sticky-sweet sauce and smeared it over my prick.
A tremor of want ran through me as he coated my cock.
“Look at that.” I did. I stared at my dick smeared with duck sauce, intently focused on a dollop that was about to fall off the head of my cock.
He stuck out his tongue to catch it, humming in greedy joy as his eyelids grew heavy for a moment.
Grasping the arm of the couch, I pressed up more so he could start cleaning the orange condiment from my cock.
He lapped at my prick like it was an ice cream treat, making me shiver and moan when he would swirl his tongue over my sensitive head.
All the while, he was kneading my now bare ass, my jeans tucked tightly under my buttocks, lifting them slightly.
“Much better than an egg roll,” he whispered as I battled not to shoot my load on his face. I was on a hair trigger. Then he smiled a devilish smile. “Now give me your cock,” he purred before opening his mouth, lips drawn over his teeth, brown eyes nearly black.
“Shit,” I grunted, moving the purple head of my dick closer and closer until the tip rested on his tongue. “It’s been a long time…”