Page 78 of Kiss and Tell

I reached for him with both soapy hands and explored every inch as I washed him. Connor stifled groans and grunts, closing his eyes and biting down on his lower lip.

When all the soap was washed away I slid onto my knees in front of him.

“Fuck, Quinn…” Connor looked down at me, his lips parted and face flushed. He cupped my cheek as water ran down over both of us. His cock bobbed mere inches from me. “Are you sure—?”

I darted forward and took him into my mouth.

“Oh,shit,” he cursed, slamming a hand against the shower wall to keep upright. His other hand slid from my cheek to tangle in my wet hair. He grasped a handful, almost tight enough to hurt.

I pulled back to lick and suck at the head, relishing the groans and hisses falling from his mouth. Water stung my eyes so I closed them and concentrated on the hard length in my mouth, focused on using my lips and tongue to drive Connor wild.

It worked because before long he was tugging at my hair insistently.

“Quinn, I’m going to—”

I latched onto him, sucking him deeper, not letting him go. His cock pulsed and throbbed as he let out a grunt and spilled into my mouth. I kept working him through it, not easing up, in much the same way he’d worked me through my orgasm the previous night.

I could give as good as I got.

The tugging on my hair did become painful then.

“Stop, stop,” he gasped. “It’s too much.”

With one last, long lick I let him slide out of my mouth, still half-hard.

“You’re fucking amazing,” Connor breathed heavily.

“I think that’s you,” I told him.

He cupped my cheeks with both hands and pulled me up into a hot, wet kiss.

“We’re going to be late because of you,” he murmured into my mouth.

“Worth it,” I said.

Twenty-Five

After a quick triphome for a change of clothes into jeans and a t-shirt, we headed to the bar. I’d almost completely forgotten myself by the time we arrived. We were walking down the sidewalk hand in hand, not a care in the world.

“How can you not love them?” Connor asked.

“Orange Creamsicles?” I blanched. “They taste nothing like real orange.”

“That’s the point,” he replied. “They’re supposed to taste like pure sugar.”

“Mission accomplished, then.”

I couldn’t remember how we’d gotten on the subject of Popsicle flavors, but I found it endearing that Connor’s favorite was something so sugary, considering he was a guy who took his coffee black.

We reached the bar and Connor swung open the door. I followed him in, still making a face.

Jessie and her boyfriend Gael were already there.

I let go of Connor’s hand, flinging it away, and sprinted several feet ahead, putting a respectable distance between us.

Connor raised an eyebrow at my violent reaction, but didn’t say anything, understanding that I didn’t want the two of them to know anything had changed between us.

“Hey man,” Gael called out to Connor with a nod. “Good to see you.”