Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Talk about the world’s meanest cock tease.” My cock, as if in response, bobs up and down in frustration, totally fucking throbbing. “This isn’t fair.”
“Don’t interrupt an artist at work. It’s rude.” He smirks privately to himself, knowing full well what he’s doing, as he continues to take his time drawing me.
Over and over again, he torments me: my cock starts to go soft, we both notice, he leans forward to torture it back into a hard and desperate state, then resumes working.
It’s a bit mean.
But to be honest, I kinda fucking love it.
“Oops, it’s going soft again,” I tease. “Better get that talented mouth of yours back on it.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward and brings it into his mouth again, except this time, he goes at it for a lot longer, taking his sweet time sucking me off. My eyes rock back as I try to keep my pose, fighting the very real and desperate need to squirm. Then he decides I’ve had enough, leans back, and resumes his work. “Stay still. I’m almost done.”
“How long have we been at this? An hour yet?”
“Probably feels like several hours to you by now.” He smiles in his teasing, evil little way, showing his dimples. “Thanks for being my muse.”
I smirk. “Thanks for making me one.”
He sets down his pencil, then squints at his work. He looks up at me, as if to compare. “Hmm …”
“Are you done? Can I see it?”
He closes the pad suddenly without answering, then sets it aside. I give him a quizzical look. He rises from his chair, comes over to the table, then gently pushes me onto my back. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he opens his mouth onto my cock and swallows it down to the base.
I let out a gasp, then lay my head back, letting it hang partway off the table. My legs, too. I’ve become the plate, and Quin is devouring the main course. All of the constant start-and-stop buildup over the past hour—whether that’s a literal hour or just what my impatient, horny body feels—has me on the edge within seconds of his lips wrapping around my cock.
But he takes his sweet time, enjoying every second of torturing my cock with his mouth. I reach several points where I feel like I can’t take any more pleasurable torment, desperate for release, but then I find myself wanting to hang on even longer for Quintin, enduring it even more, until he decides he’s ready to let me blow.
And when he does, I let out a holler of unequivocal relief and joy I’m sure every damned neighbor of mine can easily hear.
Quintin never ceases to amaze me.
“Don’t worry,” he says later on when we’re in my bed, naked and cuddling under the sheets. “I’ll let you pay me back for that orgasm some other time this weekend.”
“You sure I can’t get you off now?”
“Nope,” he insists, just like he did earlier. “Sometimes, it’s satisfying enough just seeing that happy look of relief on your face after you come … It’s the most vulnerable a person can be, in that moment.”
“I had fun being your dinner platter.”
He smiles in the dim lighting coming from a heavily shaded lamp next to my bed, gazing up at the ceiling. “I had fun, too. Was definitely a first for me. Maybe I’ll flip you over next time for some dessert.”
I grin, sliding my hand over his body under the sheets, where my fingers find his cock. “If you want dessert …”
After a chuckle, he gently eases my hand off of him.
“What?” I protest. “You really don’t want anything in return? Not even a handy?”
“I’ll take a kiss.”
“Those I can give anytime.” I kiss his cheek, then kiss his mouth. He smiles as our lips come together. “But are you sure you don’t want more?”
“Is this the start of something?”
I pull back to look at his face. “Start of something?”
“Us … This … You and me.” He peers back up at the ceiling in thought. “I don’t know if that idea scares you. I don’t want to trigger any fear of commitment in you. And I’m not exactly committing you to anything. I just—”
“What’re you rambling on about?”
He chuckles, then eyes me again. “It’s just that neither of us have gone a single day without seeing each other since we met.”
That just now hits me as true. “Well … so?”
“That means something to me. I usually can’t stand the people I see every day. I cherish those I see rarely. Yet …” He bites his lip in that adorable way that gets me going, his dimples popping out. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
I run a hand across his forehead, brushing his strands of hair aside. They fall right back into place anyway. “If you want to call this something …” I start.