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And it wasn’t selfless on her part, at all.My depraved princess had chosen this location, in my mother’shouse, with no lock on the door, to put herself in a position thatcouldn’t be plausibly explained away if we were caught.
She didn’t know, like I knew, that no onehad read a book in this house since I’d moved out. My father’sprized library existed solely for dusting, and we were in no dangerof discovery. But I didn’t spoil it for her. She was getting as biga thrill out of this as I was.
Maybe notasbig, I revised as hertongue wound around me like a pole dancer. It would get her workedup, though. I’d have to make sure I rewarded her efforts in my roomlater.
“You know, the thought of you sittingthrough dinner with sopping wet panties is going to be enough toget me hard all over again. I’m going to have to pin you down inthat big bed when we get back upstairs.”
She moaned in response, and a long drop ofdrool rolled down the side of my shaft.
“Ah-ah, princess. Not too sloppy,” I warnedher, though I was loath to. Nothing felt quite as good as a messyblowjob. “You can’t smudge your makeup.”
She poked her tongue out and ran it down tocatch the drop that had escaped. I took a long breath and tilted myhead back, resting against the top of the chair with my eyesclosed. She added her hands, encircling my girth completely, and Irelaxed into her sucking, stroking rhythm.
She’d learned my body and my responses soquickly, she knew exactly what to do to get me off as efficientlyas possible. Soon, I gripped the back of the chair and used it asleverage to fuck her face.
With my nerve endings crackling like livewires and my pelvis tightening to an almost excruciating ache, Iwarned her, “Here it comes, princess.”
The hand I used to hold her head reflexivelytightened, but I’d entered the moment where I no longer cared.Where I couldn’t stop the inevitable nor my body’s responses in thethroes of it. Even if someone were to walk in on us, it was far toolate. They would see me coming helplessly down Charlotte’sthroat.
Imagining the humiliation of such a momentwas what sent me over, bucking against Charlotte’s stacked hands,the only thing keeping me from choking her on my cock and making ahuge mess. Cold lightning arced through me, and I shouted a sharp,“Ah!” of pleasure as I filled my princess’s hot, eager mouth withspurt after spurt of my cum.
With a muffled purr of appreciation, shelapped at my tip and gulped. She lifted up, clearly believing I wasfinished.
“Not yet, princess,” I instructed throughgritted teeth, still pumping what felt like a record load onto theback of her tongue. Finally, when the strong pulses abated, I tookmy hand away from her hair. She slowly raised her head, cleaningevery last trace as she went, until I squirmed withoversensitivity. With a satisfied smile, she swallowed one lasttime and sat back on her heels.
“Wow. You’ve needed that all day, haven’tyou?” She reached up to the back of her head. “Is my hair—”
She was interrupted by the echo of thedinner gong. Her eyes widened. I took advantage of the moment totuck myself away; I was a professional at keeping cum off mytrousers at fancy occasions.
“Was that—”
“Us being called to dinner?” I got to myfeet and, leaning heavily on my cane to regain my balance, offeredher my arm. “It was. And your hair looks lovely. Your lipstick,though, I need to check.”
She gave a little “eep!” of surprise as Ikissed her.
“Do you know what I’ll never tire of,princess?” I asked, catching her bottom lip between my teeth for aquick nibble. “The taste of my cum on your pretty mouth.”
There. She could sit with those words—andher wet panties—through all nine courses.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
(Charlotte)
Twenty-three minutes. It took twenty-threeminutes for anyone to ask me a question about myself. Catherine haddominated the table with a long report on her philanthropicpursuits, the prestigious school her creepy haunted childrenattended, and the business accomplishments of her husband—now dueto arrive in the morning, having the good fortune of snagging anearly tee time.
I tried to be as interactive as possible,smiling at the children when their hobbies were mentioned—andrelieved when none of them involved taxidermy—and nodding withinterest when Elizabeth did.
It did no good to take cues from Matt. He’dfocused on drinking as much wine as possible and demolishing hishors d’oeuvres and soup course.
I tried to remember how the number ofcutlery pieces indicated the number of courses in a meal. We’d beenserved two. From the glittering array of silver left, we had atleast seven more.
Hors d’oeuvres, soup, appetizer, palatecleanser, fish… No, hors d’oeuvres, soup, appetizer, fish, palatecleanser—
“Charlotte,” Catherine said suddenly,physically jolting me out of my mental calculation. “I’m sorry,I’ve been so rude. None of this can possibly be of interest toyou.”
I recovered quickly. “Of course, it is. Icame to get to know Matthew’s family. What better way to learn allabout you?”
Her eyes narrowed. She’d barely touched hersoup, a summer melon, spinach, and prosciutto concoction that hadsounded revolting at first but was delicious.