The Hotel Bar

You doubled over, your stomach covering my head.

I kept sucking.

I followed you as you leaned against the edge of the bed and slid down onto the floor, my mouth chasing your flagging erection and then finding your scrotum, the crevice where your hips joined your legs, and the sensitive, soft skin of your inner thigh.

I knew this was a crucial moment. In prior experiences, this was the moment where the straight realized what happened, became disgusted by it, diverted his eyes, and cut and ran.

You did none of those thing. Instead, you extolled.

“Oh my God,” you said, when I finally stopped and was seated in front of you, the taste of your cum still in my mouth, my smiling matching yours. “That was literally mind numbing. I can’t think. I might black out.”

“So, it was good?” I asked, knowing the answer from the expression that remained on your face.

“So good,” you answered. “I had no idea. I’ve been blown before, but never like that. It literally curled my toes. I’m wrecked.”