Chapter Four — Callum
Fuck. As soon as her soft pink lips wrap around my shaft, I can feel myself losing. I was already hard as a rock before she even touched me.
I deliberately decided to do this here in the alleyway. The longer this goes on, the longer I’m around her and her perfect body, her mouthwatering scent of vanilla and baby powder, her fluttery eyelashes, the more worked up I’m gonna get.
If I have any chance of winning this, I need to get my part of the challenge out of the way as soon as possible, because my self-control is only going to go down as the day goes on. Especially given what I have in store for her later.
That said, I don’t know if my strategy is going to make much of a difference, given how fucking low my self-control is right now. It’s so low, it’s practically on the floor.
A shudder runs through my entire body as she licks my shaft like an ice cream cone. I feel like I’m 11 years old again and discovering porn for the first time.
I try to avoid looking at her, but I can’t help myself. I peek and notice her silky soft hair falling in front of her eyes. Then I get a glimpse of her buttery soft skin, and my eyes dip down to the curve of her breasts.
Which, of course, reminds me of the nipple clamps that I purchased for her. I imagine them tugging down on her round, perky tits, and I feel my sense of self begin to slip away.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
A haze of red lust consumes me, like a fog settling over my body. I try and think of unsexy thoughts: broccoli, the weather guy, grass. But nothing is working.
She just keeps flashing in my mind: images of her mouth wrapped around my cock, her ass in my lap, her tight cunt as I pump in and out of her.
Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.
I look at her, and she makes eye contact with me. That’s it, I’m done for. I explode into her mouth and throat, spraying my thick seed. She swallows it hungrily, and a wave of lust washes over me once again.
I take a few deep breaths as my body acclimates and my heart rate goes back to normal.
“How long was that?” I ask her.
She looks at the stopwatch. “Three minutes and 17 seconds,” she says, smirking.
Fuck. Embarrassment floods over me. It’s not like I’m in the habit of timing myself or anything, but I usually have a bit more stamina than that. Jesus Christ.
I swear there’s something magical about this girl, though.
At least we did this before going into the club. Because the second that we’re in that environment, surrounded by other men checking her out, I know that whatever self-control I have now would probably be cut in half.
So as embarrassing as this was, it was still the right call to get it out of the way.
She looks at me, I know what she’s thinking: she’s wondering if it’s her turn now. If I’m gonna go down on her now, and time it.
“Not yet,” I say. “Unless, of course, that’s what you really want.”
I look at her. For fairness sake, I have to give her the option to take her turn now. I’m really hoping she doesn’t take me up on it though, because I have something much better planned for her.
I see the sparkle in her eyes. She knows I have something planned too. And she’s game for it. This girl is game for almost anything. It’s one of the things I love most about her. How the fuck is she so perfect?
“I’m good,” she says. “I trust you.”
The words come out so casually. Sher says them the way somebody might say, I’m going to go get some milk at the store. But that’s not what she said. What she said was anything but casual. It was pretty meaningful, in fact.
She trusts me.
The thought percolates in my brain and settles. I like it more than I should.
I feel something warm pulse through my body. I look at her again and suddenly feel a wave of protectiveness wash over me. She’s a literal angel. Which makes what I’m about to do to her so much worse. And dirty. And hotter. And perfect.
“Alright,” I say. “Let’s go, baby girl.”
She smiles. “Let’s go.”