Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“You’re a tease, Sophie,” he scolded in his sex-roughened voice.
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I gave him what he wanted, closing my mouth around him and sucking him down until I gagged. What I couldn’t get into my mouth, I manipulated with my hands, circling him and squeezing as I slid them up and down his wide cock. His breath caught; he moaned. I maintained eye contact with him and lifted my mouth, strands of saliva bridging the gap between my puffy lower lip and his rock hard erection.
“I want to make you come, Neil,” I moaned. I shifted position, straddling his thigh and rubbing my sopping pussy against his skin as I tugged his cock. “I want you to come in my mouth and splash all over my face.”
His hips jerked. “Come here,” he growled, reaching down to dig his fingers into my hips. “I want that beautiful cunt on my face.”
It used to freak me out to let Neil go down on me when I hadn’t showered immediately beforehand, but that was always the time he most wanted to do it. I turned to face away from him and almost laughed at the desperate way his penis twitched, begging for sensation. He groaned and sniffed deeply as I lowered myself over him.
“You smell like heaven.” He pulled me down and sucked at my labia then pushed his tongue between to run it around my engorged clit. He sucked it, releasing me with an obscene slurping sound that made my thighs quake.
“I love that sucking my cock gets you wet,” he murmured against me. His dirty talk could get me to the edge faster than any sex toy ever could. I leaned forward, an elbow on either side of him, and took his cock in my mouth again. Now, sucking him off wasn’t the only thing getting me wet. Neil knew every sensitive spot to lick, when and how to increase pressure. He was the best thing that had ever happened to my cunt, oral sex-wise.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, pulling me harder against his face. His hips jerked upward, and he shot stream after stream into my mouth, panting and rubbing his face against my slick, wet vulva the whole time. His chin bumped my clit, and it was the very last straw; my orgasm pushed a long, shuddering moan from my throat, and I choked on his cum. I swallowed some, and some ran down my chin.
Exhausted, I rolled off him and reoriented my position to snuggle at his side. We kissed with the taste of each other on our mouths, and I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Thank you. I needed that more than I realized.” He rubbed his hand over his glistening chin.
“What time is it?” I asked. My phone was charging on the bedside table, but I was too loose-limbed and comfortable to reach for it.
“It was eight-thirty when I got up. Then, I ran six miles on the treadmill, took a shower, and got a fucking incredible blow job from an utter sex goddess, so…eleven?”
I had to take a shower and call Valerie. She’d said she needed to speak with both of us, though about what, I had no clue. It seemed like that meeting, whatever it was about, would go so much better if I didn’t show up with semen in my hair.
I yawned. “I’m going to go get ready. Find us something for breakfast?”
“Don’t you need to be conscious to eat breakfast?” He traced the shell of my ear with one finger.
“Killjoy.” I pushed myself up reluctantly and yawned.
I was halfway to the bathroom when Neil said, “Thank you for the diversion.”
“The condolence blow job,” I reminded him.
He chuckled. “Yes, well. Thank you for that.”
“My pleasure.” I grinned and wiped my chin. For the first time in a while, Neil’s smile in response was spontaneous, not forced, and I was so relieved to see it.
CHAPTER FOUR
I usually dressed for planned Valerie encounters like I was the president and I was about to strong-arm a nuclear treaty with Vladimir Putin. Today, I just didn’t have time to put that effort into it. I needed to let that go, anyway; Neil wasn’t going to compare me in Old Navy to Valerie in Versace and go, “Gosh, Sophie looks so ugly that I have now forgotten all the problems Valerie and I had in our relationship, and I’m going to go back to her.” It hadn’t happened in something like twenty-six years; it wasn’t going to happen today.
Neil seemed to have the same theory. When Valerie arrived, he went downstairs ahead of me in an R.E.M. tour shirt and gray sweatpants, so clearly we didn’t need to make an impression. I put on a green long-sleeved tee and black yoga pants, pulled my shower-wet hair into a sloppy braid and followed him.