Page 7

I've never tasted a cock before and suddenly I'm swallowing hard, more nervous than I should be.

People do this all the time. I can do it.

Remembering how the characters in my critique partners' books do it, I slowly lean forward to run the tip of my tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, from sack to head.

I treat it like I would an ice cream cone on a hot day, licking up all the little drips as it slowly melts before swirling my tongue around the tip to make the ice cream spiral up into a perfect point.

It tastes a little salty, not at all like ice cream, but it doesn't taste bad. If it was ice cream, it would be more like a salted caramel than the mint chocolate chip I usually get. I lean in to taste his cock again so I can really judge, rolling the flavor around on my tongue.

When I flick my tongue over the tip, Lionel groans, a deep rumble in his chest that reverberates through my body. I want to make him do that again. To balance my learning to enjoy having his cock in my mouth with his enjoyment of my sucking him off. I repeat the flick to see if he'll groan again.

"Less teasing," he says, and my nipples harden at the command. "I want to see your lips wrapped around my cock."

Okay, maybe cocks are more like popsicles than ice cream cones .

I wrap my hand around his hard shaft, my fingers unable to touch, angling him just right for how tall I am on my knees.

I'm not sure how I'll fit something this wide in my mouth.

I lick my lips before stretching them around Lionel's cock.

My mouth feels stuffed, and I've barely taken any of him in.

He's so big, he's flattening my tongue so I can't swallow, let alone breathe.

"Just relax. You can take it." Lionel strokes my face.

I bet he can feel the pressure of his finger on his cock through my cheek.

The idea of him stroking himself through me has my thighs clenching, and I inch a little closer to take in more of his impressive length.

Hopefully I'm doing this right, and Lionel is enjoying his blow job.

From how hard his cock is, I assume so. What's really surprising is that I'm not hating it.

Slackening my jaw, I'm able to ease another inch into my mouth. It's still difficult to swallow, and I suck hard so I don't embarrass myself with the amount of saliva threatening to drip down his thick shaft.

"Fuck," groans Lionel. "There's nothing teasing about this. You're no OTP."

I have no idea what that means, but it's clearly a good thing. I like to be good at things. The vibrating pleasure between my thighs increases with his words and I redouble my efforts until the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, cutting off my airway completely, and I'm gagging.

Only when I'm desperate for air does he pull back enough for me to gasp a breath before shoving his cock back into my throat.

Then out in quick strokes. His hands slide into my hair, holding my head in place, and my palms are glued to Lionel's hips.

I want to reach around to grip his ass, to touch more of his bare skin, to hold him close …

or maybe I want to reach down between my own legs and see exactly how wet I am.

I shouldn't be, but I am. Just like last night, the illicitness of this behavior has me soaked with my own arousal.

"Such a good girl. I'm so close," he groans.

His grip on my hair is tight as he moves my head on and off of his cock, and I'm loving every moment.

The feeling of letting go and allowing my body to just exist in this moment.

There's a freedom here in not having to do everything myself.

My palms are no longer resting on Lionel's hips, but pressing, urging him on.

Footsteps approach, and all my good feelings evaporate in a flood of panic. No one can see me doing this. We need to stop before we're caught.

"Shh, it's okay," says Lionel, still fucking my mouth. I try to protest, but I can't make a sound with his cock down my throat.

"Well, good morning," says a voice.

I'm not sure who it is, because my eyes are squeezed shut in embarrassment at being caught giving one of my new boyfriends a blow job, and even worse, at the fact that I've been enjoying it. What if whoever it is can tell how much I like having a cock in my mouth?

"Fuck!" Lionel slams his hips forward once more, and ropes of cum slide down my throat, his cock pulsing against my lips. "Yes, it is absolutely a good morning."

As soon as Lionel releases my hair and slouches back against the counter, I'm on my feet, swiping my hand over the saliva and cum mingling on my chin and dashing out of the kitchen.

I can't look any of my new roommates in the eye now because I don't even know who came in on us.

I'm blushing and completely turned on and I hope to everything they didn't notice.

Closing my bedroom door, I lean against it, blocking any of the gamers from following me. My knees and jaw ache, and I wait for the regret or guilt to sink in, but all I feel is embarrassed at getting caught.

And at how much I enjoyed it.

Lionel called me a good girl.

My hand sneaks down inside the waistband of my jeans.

I imagine his voice telling me I'm a good girl as my fingers slide over the soaked gusset of my cotton panties.

This is what his words do to me. The way he held my jaw open with his big cock.

The way he gripped my hair and fucked my face with no way for me to stop it.

I slip my underwear to the side and my fingers slide right through my wet slit. They never need to know I'm doing this .

As my fingers delve inside my pussy, I imagine they're Ethan's cock again as Lionel calls me a good girl. In practically no time at all, I'm coming so hard I see stars.