Free One Night Only by Violet Blue Page A

little more air, and this time…gotcha. His helmet was in my mouth, and I shuffled forward a little to inch my lips down his now rigid shaft.
    I placed a finger between my legs and pressed against my panties, lightly stroking myself. For the first time, I thought about shaking him, but no. If Robin was going to awaken, then so be it. I wasn’t going to give him any more help than I already was.

    I sucked, gently and tentatively. He was still thickening; I could feel my jaw being pushed farther apart to accommodate his growing girth. I clamped my finger and thumb around the base of his shaft, holding him steady as I leaned in farther, feeling him sinking into my mouth, tapping the roof, nudging my throat. Then I moved back and forth, fucking him slowly, while my tongue lay flat on the bottom of my mouth, sending soft waves of motion against his flesh.
    I had a rhythm, in my mouth and in my pussy—my finger was inside me now, stroking up toward my clitoris, circling around and then flitting away. I didn’t want to come, not yet, and not like that. But I wanted to be ready for that moment when he did, and though I was sure that he was still asleep, I also knew that I would not be waiting long.
    His hips were moving with me now, not violently or forcefully, but enough to let me know that more of his body was joining the party. My pinkie brushed his tight balls. They were huge, too, and I pictured myself trying to suck on them. It would have to be one at a time, but that was no hardship. It just gave me twice as much fun.
    Precome on my tongue: I could taste it leaking now, sharp and maybe just a little too bitter. Well, it’s not a trip to Baskin-Robbins . Robin, Robbins. I smiled at the synchronicity, but closed my mind to the rest of that thought. There’s no law that says I have to swallow…hell, there’s not even one that says he has to come in my mouth.
    But isn’t that half the fun of it? The salty shock, the liquid heat, the look in his eyes as I gulp down his muck…eyes I was suddenly conscious of, gazing down in shock and awe as my head bobbed down along his straining, stretching monster. And then he was pulling back, trying to draw away, and the faint moan that was escaping his lips was now stammering in panic:
“Shit, Chrissie, I’m coming…oh, god, here it comes!”
    I was holding on fast, though, and I wasn’t about to be cheated. Feeling his release and tasting it too—not so bad, after all, and a double scoop at least. I swallowed hard, feeling it thick and slick in my throat, and my own tensions were bursting in a wave that rushed up from the pit of my stomach to mix with the magic that was racing down from my throat. And I was still sucking, draining down the last drops, until I had to let go and fall flat on his lap, my breath hot and salty, my taste buds still dancing.
    His hand was on my head. “Chrissie. That…you…were marvelous. Nobody’s ever done that before. Not like that.”
    I couldn’t resist a light tease. “Really? What did I do that was different?”
    â€œYou didn’t stop.” Hmmm, did I detect a faint stutter?
    â€œWell, of course not. Should I have?”
    â€œOther girls…” This was hard for him, and I silently chastised myself for making him spit it out. Or not. “Other girls say they don’t like it.”
    â€œBut how do they know if they’ve never done it with you?”
    He was silent for a moment. “They tried it before, I guess.”
    â€œWell, they obviously did it wrong.” I don’t know, I’ve never understood those girls who’ll go through life avoiding something, just because they didn’t like it the first time. And then make a virtue out of it to a later lover, as though he really needs to know that he can’t have what he wants, because some other guy got it first. Make up a lie, invent an excuse, tell him you want to save it