Chapter 15 – Chapter 15
On Monday, I wanted to visit his office, thank him for the gifts, really thank him for the note, and blow him as he leaned against the door. In my mind's eye….
I take his tie between my thumb and my forefinger, the way I did that one time. He watches my hand as I do and then raises his eyes to mine. Without a word, I move my mouth to his, and we kiss, gently and then fiercely, our tongues lashing. As we kiss, I press him into the door with my body. I want him to know how hard I am for him. There is no way for him to escape, so he slides down the door a bit.
"Wow," he says, when our lips part.
"Wow," I agree.
We stare at each other.
"Please don't stop me," I whisper as I move forward, one hand on his belt and the other on his zipper.
"H," he whispers. "I don't know about this."
"I do," I whisper back, reaching through his zipper and finding his erection, my mouth back on his as I grip him for the first time.
"Grrr," I hear in his throat as I maneuver him free.
I look down. I'm thrilled at what I see. It is big and heavy and thick and I have to have it.
I settle in front of him.
"H," he says, as I move toward him, my mouth watering.
I don't know if his plaintive "H" is an attempt to stop me or approval. I don't care.
I take him in my mouth. He flinches.
I raise my eyes, hoping his eyes are on me. They are not; they are closed, his face flushed.
I use my hands on his hips to pin him to the door. I listen to him moan as I take him completely into my mouth and down my throat, not stopping until the hair of his bush is against my lips, my throat as full as it has ever been.
"Jesus Christ," I hear.
I want to make this last, but I can't. I'm too hungry. I start sliding my mouth up and down his shaft.
His breath hitches, his body stiffens, and I hear "Oh no."
His erection expands and then erupts. I swallow and slide, swallow and slide, swallow and slide.
I milk all I can from him. Even then, I can't remove my mouth. I use my tongue on his glans until he pulls himself from my mouth.
He slides down the door.
"Thank you," he says, once he settles on the floor. "I had no idea."
"Thank you," I answer. "And I was certain."
"I think you're really good at that, but I don't know. That was my first."
"I know."
"It was great."
"I know…. I'm really good at it."
"Do I need to…. reciprocate?"
"Oh, God no. No, not all. That was as much for me as for you."
"Yeah?" he asks.
"Yeah," I answer.
I illuminate him. I explain to him that, in my world, it is far better to give than to receive, that I'd much rather suck than be sucked. I don't tell him that, when he came in my mouth, I had come in my boxer briefs, hands-free, just from the thrill of him coming in my mouth.
*****
My fantasy notwithstanding, I didn't visit him in advance of our Tuesday ride.
"H," he said, as I rode up, his smile wide. "How was your trip?"
"It was great."
"Did we move to 417?"
"No, we remain stuck on 416."
"Oh," he said, seeming relieved.
I don't know why, but his relief piqued me. "Oh, I blew him. Frequently. He's just a repeat offender, so it's still 416."
"Oh. So, one of the factors stayed the same, but the product went up?"
"Yup."
"Good talk," he said, strapping his helmet on and preparing to pedal away.
"Hey," I said, stopping him, my hand on his arm, my bicycle now next to his. "Thank you for the gifts. And for the note. I love the gifts. I really love the note."
"I hope it's 'loved the note'. I hope the note's gone."
"Oh, it is," I lied, my hand still on his arm.
He stared at me. I think he was trying to determine whether I was lying about the note.
"What?" I asked.
"I forget, sometimes, just how stunning you are. But, when I'm close to you, like this, when I can see the flecks of silver in your eyes, well, it literally takes my breath away."
I was discomforted by his admission, so I changed the subject. "I have a story I want to tell you."
As we rode, I told him every detail of my fantasy. I left nothing out.
When I finished, he didn't say anything. He just rode on, left knee up, then right knee, then left knee, then right knee. My knees matched his.
"No reaction?" I asked.
"I wouldn't have said Jesus Christ," he said, picking up his pace, proving he was a better rider than me, and calling back over his shoulder, "I don't take the name of the Lord in vain."