Page 97 of Pucking the Team

I rose up, keeping my lips tight and using my hand, too. The weight of his fingers in my hair came with me, and he let out a tight groan.

He tasted of shower gel and man, slightly salty maybe, and I dipped back down. His cock twitched, and I knew he was enjoying my style.

“Ah, yeah, that’s it.”

He moaned, and I glanced up. He’d let his head fall back, and his eyes were closed. He was breathing deep and controlled, his chest and belly rising and falling.

For several minutes I worked him, adoring his cock with my mouth and loving the way he’d surrendered to me. Far from feeling like my power had been taken, I now held the key to his pleasure. It was a heady feeling of control.

After a while I explored lower and cupped his balls. Squeezing them gently, I took him even deeper into my throat.

“Ah, you little minx,” he gasped, staring down at me. “Fuck.”

He gripped my hair, and the roots stung, but I liked it. The sensation flew to my clit, and a need for more took hold.

I sped up, waiting for that first drip of pre-cum, waiting for his climax.

But instead of letting it grip him, he backed away, and I lost him from my mouth.

His teeth gritted. “Stop. Fuck. Stop, don’t…move.” He grasped his cock with both hands and squeezed the tip. “Don’t fucking…move.”

His expression was tight and his cheeks flushed. He was heaving in great lungfuls of air that expanded not just his chest but his belly, too.

I kept utterly still, my fingertips on his balls and my hair falling over my face.

“Ah, fuck, yeah…ah…ah…” He appeared to be experiencing absolute bliss. His body trembled, and a sheen of sweat sat in the hair at his sternum. “Ah…ah…” His head fell back on the seat, his Adam’s apple protruding, and he let out a long, low groan that seemed to vibrate from his body to mine.

I watched his cock, waiting for cum to emerge from around the grip he had on it. But none came.

“Oh fuck.” He seemed to sag and he let go of his cock.

It was still vividly erect, and I could see his pulse in the thick veins that roped up the length.

“God, that was good,” he gasped.

I rested my hands on his thighs.

“No, keep still,” he said, quickly, “just for another few seconds.”

I did as he’d asked, wondering what the hell was going on.

And then he opened his eyes and stared down at me. He grinned, a big, very satisfied grin.

“Dylan,” I asked. “What? I mean, didn’t you want to come?”

“No, I didn’t want to come, but I did want to orgasm, and I did…spectacularly.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dylan blew out a long breath then sat forward and gripped my wrists. He tugged me to standing.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I did orgasm.” He swiped his thumb over my still wet, tingling lips. “And you did that, but I didn’t come with that orgasm. Not in the traditional way.”

“You didn’t come? How is that possible if you had an orgasm?”

He chuckled softly. “Lots and lots of practice and almost painful self-control.” He pulled me close, his cock trapped between us. “And now, no recovery, I’m ready to go again, orgasm again, come when I choose to and not before. I think you’ll agree that’s a bonus and another reason I had to jerk off before you arrived.”