Chapter 12 #2
She drops to her knees between my thighs, and her hands slide up my legs, pause at the crease of my hips.
Her eyes find mine. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good, Noah," she murmurs.
"It's been so, so long since I touched anyone like this.
I…I'd almost forgotten how much I love it.” A tense, erotic pause. “Almost.”
I let my head rest back against the couch and watch as she gathers my cock in both hands, slowly plunging her fists down my length—I groan at the caress, hips bucking up. "I…fuck, that feels good. I'm not gonna…it's gonna be quick, honey. It's been a long time since anyone touched me."
"You jerked off thinking about me," she whispers.
"Yeah, I did."
"Was it quick?"
"No," I admit.
“You jerked off for a long time, thinking about me?"
“Yeah."
"Doing what?"
I shake my head. "Morgan, I…"
She looks up at me, smiling as she caresses my length with slow strokes of her hand, fingers curled loosely around my shaft. "I want to know, Noah. Please share it with me?”
I close my eyes, and for a moment, I see in my mind's eye the same fantasy I conjured yesterday morning in the shower as I jerked off: Morgan taking me in her mouth. "I don't want you to think—"
"Just answer the question and don't worry about what I'll think."
She gazes up at me as she caresses my cock, her elbow on my knee, her other hand tracing her fingertips delicately against the inside of my opposite thigh, scratching, rasping, raking up and down the sensitive skin, nearer and nearer to my balls.
I search her face and see nothing but need, arousal, curiosity, wonder—perhaps some nerves, but no fear, no resignation, no hesitation. Her smile is eager, seductive—her eyes flick down from mine and watch the journey of her hand as she strokes my cock.
"Please, Noah. Tell me what you imagined when you masturbated."
“You."
She kisses my thigh, my hipbone. "Doing what?"
"This."
"Kissing your leg?" Her tone is wry and teasing as she stares up at me, fist pumping lazily at my base.
"Your mouth." I lick my lips, feel my breath come short and shallow.
"My mouth doing what, Noah?"
I clench my hands into fists at my sides as she kisses my belly so close to my cock that her cheek brushes my shaft. "Fuck." I feel my stomach suck in at the proximity of her mouth, the slight subtle brush. "I imagined you sucking me off, Morgan," I growl, "that what you want to hear?"
"Yes!" she breathes, excited and eager. "That's exactly what I want to hear."
"You want to hear that I stood in the shower and jerked off while imagining you putting that sweet mouth around my cock? I imagined holding your hair and fucking your mouth."
She whimpers, kisses the tender no-man's land between hipbone and shaft, nuzzling my cock with her cheek. "Yeah? Is that what you want, Noah?"
"Fuck, Morgan."
"Is it? You want to fuck my mouth?"
I barely recognize this version of her. Her eyes spark with fiery need, glitter with arousal. And holy shit, is it hot. Bold, confident. Sure of herself. Turned on and wanting me.
"Yes," I breathe. "Among other things."
She cups my balls in one hand and strokes my length with the other, eyes on mine as she kisses her way up to my navel, tilting my cock away to kiss back down to my other hipbone, down so close to my balls that her nose nuzzles them.
A moment of hesitation, then, the brilliant shimmer of arousal in her eyes dimming momentarily—a look I've come to recognize as being when the ugly thoughts of self-doubt and -criticism in the voice of her ex start to take over.
"Morgan?" I whisper. "Hey." I cup her face, and her gaze—momentarily lost in the middle distance—returns to mine.
"Hi."
I brush my thumb over her cheekbone. "God, you're beautiful. Have I mentioned that lately?"
She blushes, gaze darting away with a slight roll of a shoulder. "Maybe. But I like hearing it." Her eyes meet mine, and her smile brightens once more. “You're pretty dang hot yourself, Noah."
I slip my hands into her hair. "I could kiss you and never stop." Swipe my thumb over her lips. "Come up here and kiss me, will you?"
I don't like the way her joy dimmed, just then. I wonder what horrible thoughts he put in her head—this isn't the time to ask, though. I just don't want her to think I expect anything; I want her to know that she can change her mind if her emotions become too much.
She shakes her head. "No, I don't think so." Morgan's fingers tighten around my shaft. "I'll kiss you, yeah. Just not up there."
"Morgan—"
She bends over me, kisses my thigh. My hipbone again. "I want to."
"But you don't have to. You can stop. You can change your mind.”
"I know." She kisses her way up to my navel again, and back down, tilting my cock away to kiss alongside it. "Noah, honey?"
"Yeah, Morgan?"
She looks up at me, cupping my shaft with her knuckles against my belly. She grins, eyes staying locked on mine. "Just be quiet and enjoy this. I know you don't expect anything. I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I'm exactly where I want to be."
I open my mouth to respond, but think better of it—especially when she, holding my eyes, not blinking, her smile equal parts shy and seductive, brings her mouth alongside my shaft. "Oh god…Morgan!"
"I haven't even done anything yet," she whispers, giggling.
Barely daring to breathe, barely daring even to imagine that this is real, I watch as Morgan's lips press against the side of my shaft.
Her eyes slide closed as she touches her mouth to my flesh, an almost reverent expression crossing her face.
My breath does hitch in my chest and clog in my throat, then, when she stutters her lips up my length, palming my balls in one hand and cupping my shaft toward herself with the other.
Her head tilts, and her soft damp lips part, taking my shaft sideways in her mouth and I feel the wet tease of her tongue.
She whimpers, a soft erotic gasp, pulling away to glance up at me with an almost dazed smile, and then her eyes slide down to fix on my cock as she brings her open mouth to the tip.
Her expression is, truthfully and accurately, reverent, then.
Not just eager or ready or turned on—awed.
Relieved, as if she's being reunited with something long-lost and once beloved.
I spear my fingers, stiffened into claws, into the couch beside my thighs, abs bracing in anticipation, hands shaking, breath trembling. I'm not ready—I have a million thoughts and feelings about this act, but now's not the time.
With a breathy hum in her throat, Morgan closes her mouth around my cock. I groan long and low in my throat, billowing heat and crushing pressure boiling immediately in my gut and in my balls.
"Ohhh…fuck! Morgan!"
Sucking wet pressure destroys my mind and wrenches my very soul into paroxysms of ecstasy. Cupping my shaft with her hand, she massages my balls with the other, and her lips slide slowly and inexorably down my length, tongue swirling and slithering and tasting.
My nails scrape against the leather of the couch as I claw helplessly, hips pushing forward. "Oh god, oh god."
She hums again, still toying with my balls with one hand—cradling, teasing with her fingertips—she slides her other hand up my stomach to my chest as she takes more and more of me.
Her arm stretches up my torso as she swallows around me, cupping my balls and swirling her tongue against my cock as she holds there, lips around my base, throat rippling.
"Jesus—" I rasp, voice hoarse and disbelieving. "Morgan! Holy fuck—fuck!"
"Mmmm!” she hums, "Mmm-hmmm?"
"Oh god—oh my god, Morgan."
Slowly, eyes lifting to mine, she backs away, a fraction of an inch at a time, toying with my balls, clawing her fingernails down my chest. Finally, her lips pull away from my cock-tip, a thin string of saliva connecting us for a moment before severing.
She swipes the back of her wrist over her lips, smirking up at me. "Holy hell, Noah."
"Holy hell, me? Morgan, you took all of me."
"I sure did," she murmurs, sounding pleased with herself. "Gonna do it again. Ready?"
"You don't have toOHMYGOD—Jesus, Morgan," I gasp.
She takes all of me again, fist circling my tip, pumping, stroking, caresses, and then her mouth touches my tip and her lips skid down my shaft and her tongue busily tastes me, teases me, and I watch in shocked, breathless disbelief as she takes inch after inch of me, swallowing around me as her tongue cushions my slide down her throat until her nose bumps my belly.
Now both hands brush up my chest, rake down my stomach, rubbing and circling as she starts to bob on me, breath huffing hot through her nose onto my skin, the gulping sounds of her swallowing desperately around me loud.
I clench my fists and tense my arms as an intense, boiling heat radiates through me like a nuclear shockwave, my balls pulsing and tightening, my cock thickening and throbbing.
Morgan backs away again, but this time her lips wrap around my head at the glans, and she slathers my now weeping tip with the flat of her tongue, catching her breath.
I slam my fists into the couch at my sides when she abruptly slides down my shaft again, all at once, shocking me into bucking up against her mouth.
She gives a soft cry in her throat when I thrust, and at first I think I've hurt her, but her eyes are wide and burning with arousal.
She rakes her nails down my stomach and finds my hands, lifts them.
Gently but insistently, she slips her fingers inside my fists, forcing me to open them, threading our fingers together.
For a moment or two, then, she goes down on me with slow, intentional slides of her mouth, tongue stuttering and licking over veins and flesh, our hands palm to palm, fingers tangled.