I glanced up at him again, nervous all over again. It was just...so--much--cock. I wasn't sure what to do with it all.
"I'm not moving a muscle, Lola," he said, his voice tight with restraint. "I promised. This is all you. Say the word, and I'll be dressed and we can go on our way."
"No!" I protested. "I just...it's been a long time, and..." I looked down at his enormous, straining erection, "--you know what? Fuck it."
I reached over, wrapped my hand around his cock; he sucked in a breath, and I felt his abs tense again. "Okay?" I asked, darting a glance up at him.
"Lola. You've got your hand on my cock, and you're asking if I'm okay?"
"Yeah, I'm asking."
"I'm better than okay."
"You seem tense, is all." I added my other hand, and there was still more of him peeking out above my fist and below.
"I've had a hard-on for you since the moment I walked into that hospital, Doc." His voice was a deep bass rumble, thick with need and lust. "And I haven't exactly had time to do anything about it, if you know what I mean."
I slid both fists up, and then back down, slowly, gingerly, hesitantly, and dear sweet heaven, he felt so good in my hands. So good. Back, before...I used to love this, the feel of a cock in my hands. The power of it, as any woman will tell you, is knowing you can make him lose control, make him feel so good just with your hands, or your mouth--and I loved using both. Yeah, there was that. But I also just...I loved the cock itself. It was a beautiful organ, when erect. Soft, yet hard. Warm, and smooth. Erotica books liked the phrase "silk on steel", which was cliche and cheesy and stupid, but so apt.
I got accused of teasing more than once simply because I would take my time, just playing, toying, feeling, enjoying. Playing with his cock just for my own enjoyment. Which, apparently, wasn't cool. I wasn't in a rush to get the guy I was with to orgasm, I just liked feeling him in my hands, touching him, stroking him. And yeah, I'd taste him too. Kisses, and licks, and maybe some sucking, but again, that was usually not for him, but for me.
And that's what I found myself doing with Thresh, just touching him, toying with him. Stroking his length with one hand, then the other, then both. Not really pumping or jerking or caressing with any rhythm, just...touching. Memorizing the feel of his monster cock in my hands, the veins rubbing against my palm, the head squeezed in my fist, his huge balls in my hands, toying with them ever so gently, carefully.
I lost track of time, lost myself in the sheer pleasure of just feeling this again, of finding enjoyment in the physical. I'd lived in my head for so long, lived just for work, keeping everything else at bay that now, reveling in physical sensation, and finding pleasure in something I'd lost...
I didn't ever want it to stop.
"Fuck, Lola. You're making me crazy." He growled this, his voice rough, low, taut.
I looked up at him, and he was visibly tensed, straining. Jaw clenched, gripping the back of his neck with his good hand, staring at me. Every line in his body was hardened, tensed, tautened.
"I'm sorry, Thresh, I just--I don't mean to tease you."
"Don't apologize," he growled. "I told you this was about you. You want to just touch me and nothing else, then I'll sit here and let you. I won't always be this passive or accommodating, just so you're aware, but for right now? This is only for you. Whatever you want. I know you're not teasing me on purpose."
"I'm not, I swear--I'm just...reacquainting myself with my own desires, I guess you could say."
"Reacquaint away, then. But if you keep doing that, eventually I'm going to blow my load--you know that, right?" He groaned quietly as I stroked his length from tip to root slowly, squeezing and twisting my fist on the way down. "Fuck, Lola. I really do love watching you touch me, feeling your hands on me. I'm counting sheep like crazy over here."
"Counting sheep?" I paused and glanced at him, confused.
"To hold back."
I frowned. "I thought that was for falling asleep?"
He shrugged. "Never did shit to help me fall asleep, but it does wonders for keeping me from coming too soon."
"So you're actively holding back right now?" I asked.
I glided my fist up to the head of his cock, squeezed, twisted, and rubbed my thumb across the top. Stroked down again, pumped my fist at the base, then took his balls in my other hand, cupped them, massaged them. He groaned, and then, when I caressed his length in a slow rhythm, began to flex his hips, the only movement he'd allowed himself, thus far.
"It comes and goes. I can hold it back, then it starts rising up again and I push it back, and then you do--holy shit, that--you do something like that...and I--oh fuck--fuuuuuuuuck, Lola, that feels so good."
His eyes closed and his head tipped back, but he quickly wrenched his eyes open and watched as I began to stroke him more rhythmically. Slow, long, leisurely trips of my fist up his length, toying in soft squeezes and caresses around the head, then back down to the root, where I would twist, stroke back up. I added my other hand, stroked him hand over hand, faster and faster until he couldn't help the way his hips flexed into my touch.
God, he was so fucking gorgeous. His abs tensed and hardened as he flexed into my fists, and his jaw clenched and loosened, and god, his cock, that beautiful perfect organ, it throbbed in my hands. I knew I'd been playing with his cock for a long time at that point, and I knew he had to be dying for the orgasm. I knew I had to give it to him--I wanted to bring him his release.
Because I remembered how much I'd loved that, too, once upon a time. Watching the guy lose control, go animal, pumping, going wild, shouting, grunting, cursing, sweating, all just because I was touching him. A big, strong guy, and he was a slave to my two little hands, and my mouth.
I wanted to feel Thresh lose it. Watch him come apart. Know I could level a giant like him, know I had that power, still. Know that my hands could give him pleasure, that my lips and my tongue could make him crazy.
Could I do that to him? Right now? Did I dare?
Fuck yes, I dared.
Something about Thresh made me feel brave. Made me feel in charge. Made me want to put my fears out on the street, face them and triumph over them. Not let the past get in the way of my present or my future. Yes, I really liked Thresh. I was really attracted to him, both physically and for who he was as a person. But while that was true, I had no illusions that this thing between us was going anywhere serious. I knew the score. But he brought things out in me, he elicited strong emotions and desires, things I hadn't felt in a long time and had truly believed were dead and ruined. So I was absolutely prepared to let him help me past my issues, especially since he seemed willing to do so without knowing the details.
I just couldn't look too closely, or think too hard about what it was we had or where it was going. I couldn't let myself get attached.
But I could enjoy the hell out of what I had when it was in front of me.
And right now, I had a twelve-inch cock--at least twelve inches, if not more--in front of me, and it was hard and beautiful and just begging for more than my hands.
It was begging for my lips. For my tongue.
I clutched his rigid erection in both hands, leaned across the space between us, pressed a kiss to his chest. Another, lower, tucking my legs under me. Again. And then I was kissing his abs, each ridge and groove, flicking my tongue over and between each delineated muscle. Lower, and lower, closer with every kiss to his cock, to my fists, which were stroking him leisurely, slowly, both of them at once, gliding up and down.
"Lola?" He sounded pained, speaking past grinding teeth.
I was there, guiding his cock against my cheek, across my closed lips, tilting my face to look up at him. "Thresh?"
"You don't--"
"Hush," I said, and squeezed him hard enough that he listened. "You didn't think I'd leave you aching, did you? I just had to work up to this."
"But I don't want you to think--"
I caressed his cock at the base, and nuzzled the upper po
rtion of his erection with my face. "Let's get one thing straight, Thresh. I'm doing what I want. I lost this part of me for a long time, and you've somehow managed to give it back to me. So make no mistake: I'm doing what I want to, for me. And what I want right now is for you to stop holding back, and let me make you feel better than you've ever felt in your life. No more holding back. Just let go."
I emphasized my statement by taking him in my mouth, and holy shit, I had to stretch my jaw to cracking to fit him. I couldn't take much, and didn't try. That's not my thing. I enjoyed the feel of him in my mouth, the taste of his flesh, the tang and smoke of his leaking essence on my tongue. I kissed him, lips to the broad springy beauty of his cock-head, as if I was making out with him. Licked up the side, slowly, long fat licks along his length, then turned my head sideways and took his length in my mouth horizontally and slid up to the tip and moved my head back upright to take his head between my lips. Let him slide into my mouth until he pushed against my cheek, widened my jaw enough that I could slide him in and out in quick strokes, tongue fluttering against him.
"I can't--I'm--shit, shit, Lola--I ain't gonna last much longer, babe. It's too good. So fucking good, the way you do that."
I gave him another look as I slid my tongue up his length, watched him as I made love to his cock with my mouth. That's what I was doing, the way he'd worshipped my tits, I was doing that to his cock.
And I couldn't help a thought from popping into my head, and then out my mouth. "When we get somewhere private, will you--"
I didn't get the rest out. He interrupted me, his voice feral, like the rumbling of a grizzly bear. "Lola, sweetheart, the moment I've got you somewhere we've got privacy, I'm gonna do so many things to you--god, you have no idea. I'm gonna make you scream so loud they'll hear you in fucking Miami."
"What will you do?" I asked, feeling bolder by the second.
His hand left the back of his head, finally--I'd been wondering how long he'd last. He gripped my braid, a light but firm hold, and didn't apply pressure, just held it as I took him into my mouth and worked back and forth, slowly at first but faster with each stroke of my lips and tongue.
"Oh...fuck. Fuck. I'll--oh goddamn, Lola--I'm gonna strip you naked and kiss every single perfect inch of your fucking glorious body. I'm gonna start at your hands and then your feet and work my way in to all the best parts, and I'm gonna save your sweet pussy for last. By the time I get there, you'll be begging me to lick your pussy. And I will, baby, I'll lick you until--oh fuck, oh fuck, god, Lola, don't you fucking stop now."
I took him from my mouth and grinned up at him. "No? Don't stop? Like you did, earlier? Got me to the edge, and then chose that particular moment to ambush the bad guys?"
He slammed his head back against the headrest. "Knew I'd pay for that."
I caressed his length again, the upper few inches now wet with my saliva. I gathered a mouthful of spit and, making sure he was watching, let it drop into my palm, and then smeared it onto his head and used both hands to spread it all over him, top to bottom--only there was so much of him that I had to spit into my hand again just to coat his entire massive, lovely length. And when he was fully coated, I wrapped both hands around him at the base, one atop the other, and started pumping his length. No more fucking around, now. No more teasing. No more playing.
He groaned long and loud, then, when I started caressing him faster, with long smooth strokes up and down his unbelievable cock.
"Tell me what else you're going to do to me, Thresh." I lowered my face to his cock, smirking up at him. "Tell me what you're going to do to my pussy."
Ohhhh, I was twisting in desire, just thinking it, just saying it. Dirty talk was never something I'd done, it was new, and it was sexy and erotic and I could have come again right then if I'd let him touch me.
"God, Lola. I'm gonna eat you out, baby. I'm gonna lick you and fuck you with my fingers and make you scream, and I'm gonna do it until you come so hard so many times you'll beg me to stop. I'm gonna teach you the meaning of multiple orgasms, Lola. And then--"
He halted, then, because I'd taken him into my mouth and was stroking him at the root and bobbing my mouth up and down on his crown, licking the glans each time I went down, sucking as I moved up, and I was giving this to him hard and fast and without mercy.
He throbbed between my lips, and I knew he was close, knew it from the way he gasped, from the way he couldn't quite fully thrust, but was pulsing his hips in taut, tensing movements, from the way he tasted in my mouth, from the helpless grunts he was making.
I paused just long enough to murmur around his cock, "What? What else?"
"I'm gonna come, Lola. I'm gonna come so fucking hard--oh Jesus..."
I asked it again. "What else will you do, Thresh?"
As soon as I heard his voice, I gave him my mouth, gave him the stroke of my fists.
"I'm gonna put my cock inside you."
"Gonna fuck me hard?" I couldn't help asking. And god, did I want that too--in that moment, at least.
"No."
I paused in surprise, shot him a shocked look. "No?"
He wrapped my braid around his fist, but still didn't try to push me onto his cock. He gave me a look so hungry, so fierce, and so intense I had to look away or risk being scorched to cinders from where I sat. "No. I'm gonna fuck you slow. So slow it's not gonna be fucking." At this, I couldn't make him wait any longer. I wrapped my lips around him, stroked his length with one fist and cupped his balls with the other, massaging them I caressed his length and sucked and licked his crown. "Oh...oh--oh fuck, Lola, yes, yes, god yes, please don't stop. I've never begged for anything in my life, but I'm begging now, baby, Lola--please don't stop."
I hummed around him: mmmm-mmm, meaning no, I wasn't going to stop.
He kept talking; bless the beautiful giant with the perfect cock. "I'm gonna show you how it should feel to be worshipped, Lola, 'cause woman, you are a Polynesian goddess, and you deserve to be worshipped, and that's what I'm gonna do, Lola, that's what I'm--fuck, fuck, I'm right there, I'm so close."
Worshipped?
Polynesian goddess?
It was an effort to not cry.
I wanted that, so fucking bad.
I wanted to be worshipped.
I wanted to be shown how that feels. More than I'd ever wanted anything in my life, I wanted that. And I wanted it from Thresh.
I felt his fist jerk my braid twice, and I remembered that signal too.
I hummed an affirmation around his cock--mmmmm-hmmm--but that turned into moans of pleasure, because god, yes, it did feel that good to have him lose it, to feel his loss of control, to know I could drive this man past his breaking point and take him into ecstasy, and god, yes, I did love the feel of his cock in my mouth sliding against my tongue and in and out of my fist.
Now...
It was time to taste him.
I kept moaning, because I felt that good, and I knew he loved it when I moaned on him.
And I kept sucking, stroking his enormous length, massaging his balls.
"Oh--ohhhhhhhhh--fuck..." he gasped.
Mmmmmmm....mmmmm...mmmmm, from me, high-pitched, each moan timed with the furious bobbing of my head and the stroke of my fist around his root, my bare tits draped against his thighs.
I was fucking his cock with my mouth.
When I felt him tense, then, I slowed. Switched from fucking his cock to making love to it. Slow, taking him to the back of my throat and then just kissing the tip, like I had before, sucking it and licking it and stroking him with both fists now, from top to bottom, chin to root, sucking--
"Lola--"
It's all he said when he came.
Salty, wet, hot, thick warmth splashing on my tongue--god, I loved his taste, that hint of sweetness, the musk. I swallowed it and kept sucking, kept caressing, fondling his cock with both hands, milking his orgasm from him, moaning until he spurted into my mouth again, and I swallowed that, and moaned and fondled and sucked and stro
ked him through a third spasm, and then I let him fall out of my mouth. I looked up at him. Loose, limp, his hand resting on my back, still panting.
And his cock was still so hard I could climb on and ride him to orgasm--
"Lola, holy shit, Lola." He groaned this, helpless, breathless.
He brought me up to his face by my braid, whispered against my lips. "Lola, that was--fuck, I don't even know how to explain what that was."
"Good?" I breathed.
Would he kiss me after he'd come in my mouth?
"Honey, good isn't the word."
I whispered back, my breath on his lips. "What is the word, then?"
He did kiss me, slowly, deeply. Thoroughly. Plundering my mouth, showing me where his words failed. "Best. Ever."
"Best blowjob ever, huh?" I tried for casual, and failed.
He pulled my face back so I was looking at him. "Lola. That was so much more than a blowjob. For you, and for me." He wiped at my lips with his thumb. "So don't pretend it wasn't."
He was so right, and the fact that he could see and recognize the significance of what I was doing...that sent something hot and sharp twisting through my heart, something so potent it worried me, scared the fuck out of me.
Because now, out of the moment, the heat having abated, I knew I'd have to tell him what had happened to me.
I wanted more.
I wanted what he'd promised me, that he'd worship me.
Didn't every girl want to be shown what it felt like to be worshipped?
Goddammit, but I wanted that so fucking bad. After what had happened to me, what was done to me...I needed that. I needed that affirmation.
I just wasn't sure I could get through telling him about it without losing it.
And I also knew I was probably going to have a major freak-out when he tried to get me naked, when we went to have actual sex. Touching him, kissing him, and sucking his gorgeous cock, those were all breakthroughs for sure, but the real emotional landmines were all buried around the act of sex. The intimacy. The trust. And how completely I'd had those ruined for me.
I wasn't sure I could go through with it, no matter how much I needed and wanted it.
At least, not without having a serious panic attack before, possibly during, and definitely afterward.
And Thresh deserved to know, deserved fair warning, if and when we ever got to that point.
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