Chapter 7
Denise
Isaac’s smile is gone, his expression unreadable as he looks down at me, naked and kneeling at his feet.
A part of me hopes he’s reconsidering, that he’ll return to being a good man.
He’ll tell me to get up and forget about everything.
He’ll assure me I can stay in my home without fulfilling any more of his dirty demands.
To my dismay, he raises his shirt and undoes his pants, letting them fall around his ankles. He steps back to give me more room, looking at me expectantly. I wish I could cover my body with the towel again.
“Why do you want this, Isaac? How are you OK with me—with something like this? Even though I’m not?”
A beat of silence passes before he responds in a terse voice.
“Your boyfriend will be home soon. Instead of wasting time asking me questions, you should put your mouth to use in more productive ways.”
I clench my teeth. He’s not going to change his mind and nothing I say will make him change it either. He’s always been a stubborn bastard. I used to see that as an admirable trait until now.
And he’s right. Matt is probably almost home. His actions led to this but I don’t want my boyfriend walking in on me cheating on him. The sooner I get this over with, the better.
I lower my gaze to Isaac’s crotch. He’s hard already, his erection tenting his underwear. I don’t know whether it’s flattering or disturbing Isaac got aroused looking at my body. I’m still gripped by utter disbelief I’m about to give him a blowjob.
My hand shakes as I reach up to touch him. His warmth seeps through the material of his underwear against my palm, and I learn his shape and size as I stroke up and down.
God, he’s big. Larger in both length and girth than Matt at his hardest. There’s something a little tantalizing about his firmness too. When I gently squeeze him, his flesh twitches, and he presses himself into my hand. Heat filling my cheeks, I jerk my gaze up to his.
“Do that again,” he orders.
I obey, applying more pressure to my grip. Isaac groans, and my face burns with shame that I find the sound sexy. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s coercing me, demanding sexual favours in exchange for shelter. I shouldn’t find any part of this sexy. I should absolutely hate it.
His erection swells and stiffens some more as I continue rubbing and squeezing him.
Conscious of Matt’s impending return, I push aside my reluctance and peel down Isaac’s underwear.
His flesh springs free, and I pause in surprise.
Oh god. It’s more impressive in plain view.
He curves upward, veins standing out along the thick length, his flushed tip glistening with clear liquid.
So transfixed by the sight, I forget what I’m supposed to do.
Put it in my mouth. He groans when I grasp and stroke him.
His naked flesh is warm, hard, and silken against my palm, and I’m ashamed again that I like the way he feels.
When I part my lips to take him in my mouth, Isaac puts his hand on my head and stops me.
“Tell me you want to suck it,” he orders.
“I want to suck it,” I say, hesitant.
He grips my hair, tugging at my scalp. Not painfully, but enough to let me know he’s in control.
“You can do better than that.”
Do better how? What do I say? I’ve never been good at dirty talk. I’m also not on board with what’s happening here, even if a traitorous part of me doesn’t entirely hate it.
“I—I want… I really want to suck your cock, Isaac,” I say in the best sultry voice I can muster, my face on fire. I tilt my head to look up at him and it tightens his pull on my hair. “I need you in my mouth. Please let me taste you.”
He smiles. “Good girl. Kiss it all over. Show me how much you need it.”
His praise increases my enthusiasm to please him. I continue stroking him as I feather kisses up and down his length, flicking my gaze up to his every time I press my lips against his flesh. The intensity in his stare is unnerving and thrilling at the same time.
Avoiding contact with his cockhead isn’t intentional at first. When he shudders and strains every time my lips are near it, I decide to tease him.
I delight in my tiny bit of power over him while I’m on my knees, paying his sordid price to keep my home.
By the time I pucker my lips to his tip, he’s overeager for more.
He shoves against my mouth, practically growling his words.
“I’m ready for that suck now.”
Isaac slides himself between my lips as soon as I part them, groaning as he fills my mouth, his grip tightening in my hair. I slacken my jaw to accept him, my tongue trapped under his firm thickness as he pushes in, then retreats.
“You’re even more beautiful with my cock in your mouth,” he murmurs, his gaze half-lidded.
A shameful quiver pulses low in my belly at his words. I wrap my fingers around him and hollow my cheeks, sucking and licking the tip of him. He lets out a satisfied hum and his grip slackens in my hair until he’s caressing the back of my head.
Mild annoyances like the hardness of the vinyl floor on my knees and the chill on my exposed skin fade into the background. I devote myself to sucking Isaac’s cock, slipping my lips from around him so I can lick and kiss along his shaft.
Oral sex feels like a chore with Matt. It’s different with Isaac. Maybe it’s because he smells good, or that he’s someone new after years of the same man. Or maybe it’s because this is wrong, and doing wrong is exciting.
Isaac groans when I slide my lips down his length. He’s too much to take all the way, so my hand works in rhythm with my mouth. My hair swings and bounces around my shoulders as I suck him faster. I tell myself I’m only eager so I can get through this as quickly as possible, but that’s not true.
A twisted part of me is enjoying this. I delight in the way he pulses in my hand and how he fills my mouth, I savour his smooth texture on my tongue, and I’m proud of his groans of pleasure.
It’s even more messed up that I’m getting aroused too. My nipples are hard, between my legs growing slick. Worst of all, if Isaac were to pull me up and bend me over the kitchen peninsula, I might not try to stop him.
Isaac swears under his breath, his breathing heavier, his thighs flexing as I suck him. He curls his fingers into my hair, adding gentle pressure to the back of my head so that I take more of him into my mouth.
He takes full control by grasping my head in both hands and rocking his hips back and forth, plunging himself into my mouth. After a few thrusts, he pulls out.
“Lean against the fridge and raise your hands,” he commands, breathless.
When I do as he says, he pins my hands to the fridge with his larger hand and guides himself to my lips. I part them to allow him inside and he smirks.
“A moment ago, you said it’s wrong to show me your body. Look at you now, so quick to open your mouth for me to fuck it.”
Asshole. I glare at him and start to close my mouth. He presses his fingers down on my bottom lip, holding me open so he can push inside. He makes a low hum of satisfaction, swearing as he resumes fucking my mouth. I close my eyes and let him use me.
He’s so thick and hard between my lips, and heavy on my tongue. With my hands pinned, I can’t do much except suction my cheeks around him as he slides between my lips. His groans and the wet, filthy sounds of him plunging into my mouth fill the kitchen.
His thrusts pick up speed, his cockhead going deeper too. I gag whenever it grazes the back of my throat, and Isaac grunts and shudders as if he loves almost choking me. His body becomes strained, his grip on my hands tightening, his cock growing stiffer, an urgent energy to his thrusts.
“Oh fuck…” he hisses, then pulls out of my mouth and jerks off.
This is the first time a man has ever done this to me, yet I have the good sense to close my eyes in preparation for what’s about to happen. His knuckles graze my nose and cheek as he moves his hand up and down his length. With a grunt, Isaac comes on my face.
He groans and pants as he continues tugging himself, squeezing out more of his warm cum onto my face.
It oozes down my forehead, eyelids, the bridge of my nose, and my cheek.
He smears it into my skin with his softening flesh, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to mark me or degrade me.
I also don’t understand why a part of me likes it.
When he’s done, he presses himself to my lips.
“Suck the rest out and swallow it.”
His order is so crude, delivered in a mean tone too. Yet I immediately obey. When Matt comes in my mouth, I always rush to the bathroom to spit it out. This time, I suck and swallow Isaac’s cum, and even lick my lips after he pulls free from between them.
Isaac pulls up his underwear and shorts, the zipper loud in the quiet. I pick up the towel and wipe my face, then stand, holding the cotton to my front to hide my body. There’s no point now. He has already seen everything.
His stoic mask returns. He says nothing as he stares at me. I don’t know what to say either. I don’t even know how I feel about what just happened.
“You can stay,” Isaac finally says. “As long as I get my watch back by tonight.”
His words bring bittersweet relief. I hesitate, then decide to risk the question.
“Matt too?”
He clenches his jaw. “Yes, but if I see him anywhere on my deck or porch, he’s gone.”
He turns to leave and I don’t stop him this time.
Once he’s gone, I take another shower to wash away the sticky residue of Isaac’s cum from my face and my arousal from between my legs.
But no amount of showers will ever get rid of the shame staining my soul.
What I did with Isaac to keep a roof over my head is seared into my brain.
Matt arrives home just as I get out of the shower. A few minutes earlier and he would’ve walked in on me and Isaac. Guilt floods me, but I let it fuel my anger when I confront him.
“Where’s Isaac’s watch?”
He freezes, a shocked look on his face before he tries to hide it behind confusion.
“What are you talking about? Why would I—”
“Don’t even try to lie!” I hiss. “Isaac has cameras in his house. He saw you take his watch, and he’s going to call the cops if you don’t give it back.”
The colour drains from his face. His breathing becomes heavy, and he runs a shaky hand through his hair.
“I can’t. I can’t give it back.”
“Why not?”
He reaches into his pocket.
“Because I sold it to buy this for you.”