Page 135 of X's and O's

A boy had tried picking me up once in high school. He’d snuck up behind Toby and me in the cafeteria, wrapped his arms around me, and tried hauling me off my feet.

I hadn’t budged, and the boy’s friends had erupted into laughter. They had jeered about how weak he was, and he’d shot back it wasn’t that he was weak. Just that nobody could lift ‘Wide-let.’

After that it became a game of boys trying to lift me when I was least expecting it.

More than once I’d gone home crying, not even because of the violation of them touching me when I hadn’t wanted them to. But because not one of them had ever been able to get me off the ground.

Whip was a different breed. He lifted me like I weighed nothing. He didn’t strain beneath my weight. He didn’t grunt or stagger.

And I wrapped my legs around him, his hands on my ass, until he reached my bed and threw me down on it.

My heart pounded against my chest, and moisture slicked from my core. That had been both the hottest and somehow most romantic moment of my life.

And it was courtesy of a sex worker.

Whip leaned over me and ran his thumb over my lips. “Are you still thinking about them?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Good.” He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, his gaze never leaving my body. It rolled over my tits and my belly and focused on my sex.

All I could see though, was him. His perfect pecs. The hard ripples of his abs. The dark line of hair that started beneath his belly button and disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. My breath stuttered when he undid the button, then the zipper, and then dragged them down over tightly muscled thighs, taking his underwear with him.

His dick was as perfect as the rest of him, thick and hard, dark hair at the base, despite how gray the hair on his head was.

I desperately wanted to touch him.

And I was paying for this, so I was going to.

I flipped over onto my hands and knees and crawled across the bed until I was at the end of it, kneeling in front of him at the perfect height to take his cock in my mouth. “Teach me how to blow you.”

His eyes locked on mine, but I knew all he was going to see in my expression was my complete and utter desire to just get this thing done. To find out what millions of women my age already knew.

His fingers traced down the side of my face and then over my lips.

Then he replaced the touch with the tip of his cock. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

I did eagerly, tingles radiating through my core, half because I was fully naked, on my hands and knees, my pussy exposed through my thighs, even if there was no one on that side of the room to see it. And half because this man’s cock turned me on. I wanted him in my mouth, just as much as he wanted it there.

I followed his instructions, opening my mouth and letting him push inside.

“That’s my girl.” His voice was deeply guttural. “Get used to the tip before you take more.”

I licked the very end of him experimentally, my gaze raised so I could watch him staring down at me.

Precum seeped from his tip and spread across my tongue. Salty, but not unpleasant, because that arousal was for me. Even if I was paying him, money didn’t createdesire, and at the very least, Whip’s dick liked what I was doing.

I sucked him in deeper, experimentally gliding my tongue down the underside of his shaft then drawing back, only to do it again.

There was no chance I could take all of him without choking to death, but he gripped his base, working himself in time with the slides of my mouth.

Once we found a rhythm, I found myself fitting my hand over his and mimicking the way he stroked himself.

He hissed as his hand dropped away and he let me take over completely. “You learn fast, sweetheart. That feels fucking amazing.”

I glowed under his praises, because they didn’t feel fake. His head tipped back, his beautiful lips slightly parted, his perfectly sculpted chest rising and falling in breaths that became quicker and quicker the longer I worked him.

He was enjoying this. He wasn’t just teaching me. What I was doing felt good.