Usually with a girl, it’s all about—me. Yes, I’m an asshole. I’ve never denied that. I don’t leave them unsatisfied. But I rarely go down on them. I’m the selfish prick who never turns down a blowjob but forget eating pussy. That’s only on special occasions and even then, it was more about getting a girl wet before I fucked her.
That I’m thinking of other girls is so unappealing right now that I shove the thoughts aside, refocusing on this trembling, beautiful girl before me who’s somehow found it in her heart to let me do this to her.
I’m a lucky bastard.
With fumbling hands I somehow manage to peel her panties off, leaving them in a rolled up ball on the floor before I resume my attack. With a hum of pleasure against her flesh I lick and suck and thrust, her inner walls flexing around my fingers as I fuck her with them. Her thighs tighten around my head like a goddamn vise and I let her. Her fingers slide into my hair and I wince when she pulls it but that’s fine. She needs something to hold onto. Her hips buck, she arches her back, my name falling from my lips in this choked gasp and I know she’s close. She’s gotta be so fucking close…
Her body stiffens beneath my mouth just before it begins to shake and shudder, her orgasm sweeping over her. A gush of wetness flows from her pussy and I suck on her clit, my fingers embedded in her body as she comes. I keep my eyes open, wanting to witness this, the moment when she falls completely apart by my hands.
Well, by my lips and tongue too.
She’s writhing beneath my mouth, her hand falling away from my hair as she arches back her head, exposing that pretty neck I love to kiss. I remove my mouth from her, dropping a kiss on top of her pussy once. Again. Slip my fingers from her still clenching body, kiss her once more and her hand is suddenly in my face, pushing me away.
“Stop. God, it’s too much,” she whimpers.
I shift up so I’m lying beside her, my hand on her cheek, turning her to face me so I can kiss her. Drown in her. She sucks on my tongue as she practically tries to climb all over my body and I roll over on my back, taking her with me.
“That was so good,” she murmurs as she rises above me, her hands braced on my chest, her hair falling down around her face. Her skin glows, her eyes shine as she smiles down at me and I know I’ve never seen a prettier sight. She’s completely naked, I can feel her hot pussy against my denim-covered dick, which feels like it’s being strangled by my jeans. I grab hold of her hips, run my hands over her ass and tug her closer, let her feel what she’s doing to me. I swear her eyes practically roll back in her head and she grinds down on me, just to make me fucking crazy, I’m sure.
“You like that?” I ask, sounding like an arrogant bastard but I don’t give a shit. I just made her come. I’ve been dying to do that since the first night I saw her. From the very first moment I caught sight of her in that angel costume, I wanted her. Purely physical at that point, now it’s turned into…
Something more. I like this girl. And I never like any girls.
“Yes.” She stretches above me, her hands in her hair as she holds it away from her neck, her back arched so she’s thrusting her tits toward me. Unable to resist I rear up, draw one perfect pink nipple into my mouth and suck. Her hands fall from her hair and land on my shoulders, pulling me in close. “Oh God, your mouth.”
“What about it?” I murmur against her flesh before I pull it between my lips again.
“You know just what to do with it.” She rubs against me, her wet pussy getting all over my jeans but I don’t care. Fuck, I want her to rub that sexy body all over me, to the point where all I can see and smell is her. “Are you my own Mr. Pussy?”
Another Sex and the City reference. I couldn’t help myself earlier when I started quoting from the show. The way we were acting reminded me of that particular episode, which I’d watched only a few days ago. There is so much a guy can learn from that show.
“Do you want your very own personal Mr. Pussy?” I kiss her all over her chest, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts. They’re small, barely a handful, with rosy pink nipples that seem to like my attention. “You just want me to eat you out all day and night?”
A full body shudder is my physical answer. “I can’t say no.”
Chuckling, l tilt my head back to smile up at her. “That relationship was doomed from the start. All she wanted was him going downtown on her.”
Alexandria runs a hand over my head, her fingers sinking into my hair. Her expression is soft, her eyes glowing, her hair a complete mess around her head. She looks like a very well satisfied woman. “Hmm, well I definitely like you for more than just your oral skills.”
My brows go up. “Really?” I should not feel happy that she just said that, right? It’s no big deal, what we’ve got going on. This is just fun and games. Yeah, I like her. Yeah, she feels…special, which makes me uneasy just thinking it. But what more can there be? A few months of fucking and then what?
I don’t know.
“I do appreciate your going downtown efforts.” She smiles. “Despite everything you’ve said and done, I like you, Tristan.”
“Despite everything I’ve said and done?” What the hell is she talking about?
“You’re awful.” She kisses me. “You say the worst things ever.” Another kiss, this one a little longer. “You’ve done your best to push me away, yet you always come back for more.” The next kiss involves a slip of the tongue, a nibble on my lower lip. “You’re funny. You’re sweet. And you quote Sex and the City.” Another sweet, too brief kiss. “I think I’ll keep you around.”
“Don’t forget that I make you chant my name when you’re coming,” I point out.
She nudges my shoulder, her lips quirked in a barely contained smile. “Shut up. I did not.”
“You so did.” I sneak my hand up into her hair at the back of her head and pull her down so our mouths meet again. “You said it over and over,” I murmur, my voice low. I need to somehow get inside her, find relief, something. I feel like I’m about to blow and I refuse to come in my jeans like some inexperienced kid.
“No,” she whispers against my lips as I kiss her. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can show you again if you want.” The kiss deepens and I roll her over so she’s beneath me. “Make you come.” I thrust my hips against hers, a slow roll that has her moaning low in her throat. “Drive you wild. Just so I can prove that I can make you say my name.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she pants, her hands reaching for me.
This man needs to be satisfied and quick. After the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave me—my God the things he can do with his tongue—I want to return the favor. I’m dying to see him, touch him.
He’s thrusting against me nice and slow, his big body pinning me to the bed. I like the feel of his weight pressing me into the mattress. He’s solid, so warm, so incredibly male and big and hard…
Everywhere.
His mouth is also fused to mine, our tongues tangling, his hands wandering. I run my fingers around the top of his jeans, slipping them down the front, his stomach muscles contracting when I brush against them. I unsnap his jeans, tug down the zipper and skim my fingers along his erection, which is straining against his underwear.
Um. Wow. He’s long. Thick. And that’s just my early assessment.
“Roll over,” I murmur against his mouth.
He nips my lower lip. “No.”
“Tristan.” I shove at his shoulder with my other hand, my fingers still curled firmly around his cock. “Please.”
“If you insist.” Just as I let go of him, he rolls over so he’s flat on his back, his arms tucked under his head, elbows out, very casual. Kneeling beside him, my gaze roams, lingering over all the good stuff on display. His biceps bulge with muscle. The wall of his chest, his flat stomach, his jeans undone and spread open, exposing the black underwear beneath, the outline of his cock pressing against the fabric.
Somehow he kicked off his boots earlier and he’s just i
n his socks. His cheeks are ruddy, his lips damp and swollen from our kisses and his hair is a wreck. He looks good. No, he looks sexy in that deceptively relaxed pose. His body is tense, his gaze full of heat and want as he watches me and waits.
I need to put him out of his misery.
Leaning over him, I kiss his lips once, moving down so I can kiss his jaw, his neck, run my lips over his chest, his pecs, the soft hair in the center tickling my cheeks. I kiss one nipple, the other nipple, his muscles so tight beneath my lips, his body trembling. I know he’s holding back, restraining himself. I love that. He’s nothing but potent, male power, and he’s letting me do whatever I want to him when really he just wants to grab me and get on with it.
I kiss his stomach, my lips soft and seeking, my tongue darting out for the occasional lick. Glancing up at his face, I find him watching me, his eyes blazing, his mouth a grim line as he reaches up and pushes my hair away from my cheek.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he says, confusion mangling his expression. I’m sure that’s the first time he’s said that to a girl. I mean really, this is the man-whore king stud on campus. Telling girls they don’t need to give him a BJ if they don’t want to is just…incomprehensible.
“I want to,” I tell him honestly, noting the relief I see in his otherwise dire features. The struggle is real for him right now and I think it’s adorable. “But I’m not going all the way.”
Why, I’m not sure, but it almost feels too intimate, to let him inside me tonight. Fine, I let him mash his face against my vagina and suck me straight into an orgasm. I’m about to put my mouth on his cock. That’s all well and good. It’s—fun. Sexual exploration, relieving all of that tension we’ve been dealing with since the night we met.
But letting him enter me, fusing the two of us together, face to face, heart to heart, is such an incredibly intimate act, I’m scared to do it with him. Scared more that once it happens, he’ll leave.
And I’ll be left behind to pick up the pieces, alone.
“That’s cool. I’m okay with it. We don’t have to,” he says in a rush of words. “I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to, Alexandria.”
He says those words and I believe him. Tristan has never broken a promise yet and I appreciate that about him. He’s always been honest—most of the time, to a fault. He says what he feels, what he’s thinking, with absolutely no filter. A lot of the time, it’s annoying.
It’s also endearing.
“I know,” I whisper as I start to tug his jeans down. “Help me out here.”
Grinning, he lifts his hips, pushing his jeans down to his thighs, where I take over and pull them the rest of the way off, letting them fall onto the floor. He’s wearing black boxer briefs that mold to his thighs and everything else, showing off all that he has. I stare at him for a moment, swallowing hard as I consider how I’m going to approach this. He’s big. I’m not what one would call tremendously experienced in the going downtown department. Yes, I’ve given a blowjob. No, I’ve never swallowed. Yes, I enjoyed it—somewhat. Okay, a little bit. The three guys I’ve given blowjobs to, all of them came so fast it was over before I barely started. Which I preferred, you know? No lockjaw for me.
This is why I don’t like it when guys go down on me. I take forever—usually. They can never find anything, you know? The lick and suck in the wrong place or they rub me so hard with their fingers, it freaking hurts. It’s a delicate process down there and every guy I’ve been with in the past didn’t seem to realize it. They just attacked it with little to no finesse.
Tristan seemed to understand that. The best part was when he touched me so lightly I barely felt it. His tongue. The way he seemed to find my clit right away, with no hesitation. I’m tingling between my legs just thinking about what he did to me…
“I know I’m huge,” he drawls, snapping me out of my dreamy state. “But I’ve never rendered a woman dead silent for so long before.”
I shake my head, sending him a look as I move to straddle him. His eyes widen when I climb atop him, rubbing my sex against his stomach, a shuddery groan leaving him as he reaches out to grasp hold of my waist. “I was just thinking about what I wanted to do to you,” I tell him.
His fingers skim my waist, my hips. “What’s your plan?”
“To drive you wild,” I whisper as I stretch up to kiss his lips, my tongue darting out for a teasing lick. He lifts his head, trying to capture my lips again but I move away from him, shaking my head. “To make you come as hard as you made me.”
He smiles, all confident, cocky man. “Hmm, are you up to the challenge?”
“Watch me,” I whisper, remembering when he said that to me what feels like eons ago, in the library. I undulate my hips, rubbing against his stomach and he closes his eyes, his hands sliding down to grab hold of my ass.
I pull out of his touch and scoot down, my hands going to the waistband of his boxer briefs and bringing them with me. His cock springs free, rising up to greet me and I stare at in wonder, blowing out a soft breath. I swear it bobs in answer.
Oh. Man. He is large. Thick and veined, his cock has a flared head and slightly curves toward his stomach. I keep my gaze locked on it as I hurriedly get rid of his underwear, then reach out to wrap my fingers around the base.
“Shit,” he mutters, closing his eyes so tight it looks almost painful. “You keep touching me like that I’m going to explode.”
“Why?” I ask incredulously. “I barely touched you.”
“I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you,” he admits, his eyes cracking open. “And I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so damn long, just hearing you talk, your fingers around my fucking dick is well, you know. Pushing me over the edge.” The smile he gives me is pained.
I want to put him out of his misery.
Giving him a squeeze, I dip my head, drop a kiss to the very tip of his cock. The strangled groan that sounds low in his throat encourages me and I part my lips, taking the head of his cock into my mouth. Tristan hisses when I pull him out, trace my tongue around the tip, teasing and licking, my gaze never leaving his.
He doesn’t look away from me either. His eyes are so hot, I feel emboldened by his reaction. I love that he’s enjoying this so much and I feel like I’ve barely started. His arousal is turning me on and I’ve never experienced that before in my life. Never with any other guy.
Only with him.
Only with Tristan.
I’m going to lose it. Just come all over her pretty face and she’ll get pissed and probably leave. Well, I brought her here so she’ll have to find a ride home but Jade would help her. Shep would help her. They’d all think I was a total asshole and that would suck but…
Totally overreacting over here. I need to calm the fuck down.
She runs her tongue down the length of my cock, mapping every throbbing vein, her fingers firmly clasping the base. I stare in wonder at the most beautiful girl in the world, the woman of my recent fantasies, the one who I can’t seem to shake no matter how hard I tried, give me the ultimate blowjob.
I spread my legs wider as she settles in, a little smile teasing the corner of her lips before she begins licking my cock again. A ragged exhalation leaves me and I reach out, pushing her hair away from her face so I can see this better.
And I really want to see this.
Her fingers stroke as her tongue licks, and she takes me deeper, the wet heat of her mouth making me close my eyes and fight against the urge to come. It would be so easy to let go. She’s been doing this for all of what? Three minutes? And I’m ready to blow. I blame it on the excitement that she’s the one blowing me. I blame it on the fact that I haven’t been with a woman in weeks. I blame it on the fact that I’ve become well-acquainted with my hand lately and the touch of Alexandria’s tongue and lips is just fucking too good not to give into.
But really, it’s all about the girl. That she’s willing to do this for me, that she’
s actually enjoying it, is upping my arousal factor. It’s an incredible turn on, to watch a woman suck your cock and have zero expectations in return. She’s doing this because she wants to.
Not because she wants something from me.
She hums around the head of my cock, causing a vibration that I feel all the way to my knees. I lift my hips, trying to send my dick a little deeper, not wanting to be obvious about it and she pulls away from me completely, her fingers still wrapped tight around the base. Her lips are damp, glossy in the low light. Her hair is a mess, a golden cloud around her head. And the best part, she’s naked. All naked and flushed, her tits on display, those long legs folded beneath her, she’s gorgeous. Looking a little flustered, a lot adorable.
“I don’t know if can take you all the way in my mouth,” she confesses, her face full of disappointment. “It’s just that…you’re so big.”
Every guy in the whole damn world wants to hear this. Yeah, yeah we want to be deep throated too but if your girl can’t do it because you’re well hung? Who’s going to complain about that?
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” I hesitate when she frowns. “Or…don’t. It all feels good. Trust me.”
“Really?” She squeezes my dick, her fingers firm and I press my lips together to keep from shouting harder! at her.
“Fuck yeah. Don’t be shy.” I touch her cheek, cradle the side of her face in my palm. She leans into my touch and I push my fingers into her silky soft hair, loving the way the strands cling. “Anything you do, I’m going to like, angel. Trust me.”
Her cheeks go pink as she smiles. And then without hesitation, she goes at it in earnest, enveloping me in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, her strokes matching the same rhythm as her seeking lips. I try to last as long as possible. Push her hair away so I can watch. Thrust my hips up and enjoying the view of my cock sinking deeper into her mouth. It’s visual overload, sensory overload, fucking Alexandria overload and there’s nothing I can do to withstand it any longer.
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