Page 71 of Lucky's Trouble

“Nothing?”

“I don’t want to get pissed on or lick your eyeballs or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says.

“What are some things you do like?”

“Can we not talk about this when I’m not getting laid for the next three days?” He points at his now fully erect dick.

“Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” I slide off the bed and onto my knees in front of him.

“Fuck me.”

“Is that one of your kinks?” I ask, half joking.

“I wouldn’t say no.”

“Really?” I wrap my hands around his length and rest the tip on my lower lip. “Has anyone ever done that to you?”

“There’s been a finger once or twice.” He swallows hard.

I wrap my lips around him and hum, tasting his earthy and salty but clean precum. Asking him about that specific activity was mostly just to see how far he’d go. I wasn’t expecting him to say yes, but now that it’s out there, I can’t deny it holds some appeal.

Swirling my tongue around his tip, I play with the metal balls, using my hands to stroke him. He moans in response, his hips thrusting forward in a silent ask for more. I flatten my tongue and take him in as far as he’ll go, which still leaves me a little room to stroke him since he’s a big boy.

Building a rhythm, I fuck him with my mouth, my gaze climbing up his body until I meet his stormy half-lidded eyes. Pleasure is written all over his face, filling me with pride at making him feel like this.

“Your mouth feels so good. Almost as good as your tight cunt.” He clenches his jaw. “Now spit on it.”

I don’t count what happened to me as a girl as my first for anything, so the title of my first blow job goes to Seth Carson in the twelfth grade, if you can even call it that, since he couldn’t keep an erection. His dad was a leader at our church, and I’m certain the guilt and shame of it all had something to do with it.

After that experience, there was only Neal, and there was nothing enjoyable about what I did with him since I only did it because the consequences were too great.

What I’m doing for Lucky is different. I want him to own me, to take all the parts that I gave to other people and claim them for himself. No, I don’t just want it. I need it.

So I follow his direction, pulling off with a pop and spitting the excess saliva and precum from my mouth onto his cock.

“Now use that for lube to stroke me.” There’s a fire in his eyes, but he’s gentle when he rests a hand on my head, and I know it’s because I’m injured. I can’t wait to be healed so he can do the dirty things I know are running through his head right now. I stroke him from tip to root until he’s covered in my spit. “Good girl. Now suck.”

Wrapping my lips around him once again, I bob up and down, pushing my limits until I feel him at the back of my throat. He sucks in a sharp breath, lightly encouraging me to hold him there by his touch on my head. I relax, trying my hardest not to gag, but there’s no controlling the tears that spring to my eyes or the way my throat constricts around him.

I shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want to hand over control for basic needs like fucking air, but nothing about this feels like any other experience I’ve had. Damn me to hell, but I trust Lucky. Someone I just met who has a violent streak big enough to come home covered in blood after beating the hell out of a man. Yet instinctually, I know he’d never hurt me. If anything, he only wants me to feel good.

And boy, do I ever. My thighs quiver, and arousal pools between my legs as he takes control, thrusting in and out of my mouth, choosing when to push deep and when to go shallow. His piercing only hits my teeth once, and after that, he seems to know how to adjust.

“Lose the shirt. I wanna come all over your beautiful tits,” he says, releasing me.

I suck in a lungful of air as I pull off him and scramble to yank my tank over my head because I want that too. I want to bathe in him, have him mark me everywhere, and spread his scent all over me until I feel like this is real.

Once situated, I take notice of his heavy sack. I keep one hand wrapped around him, swiping my thumb over his tip while I reach lower with my other, cupping his balls and testing the weight. His head rolls back on his shoulders as he groans in pleasure.

I squeeze my thighs together as I open up to take him in my mouth once again. I wish I could do this all day, but my jaw is beginning to ache. I’m ready to watch him lose control, so I increase my efforts. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck him off, switching between rolling his balls in my palm and giving them a slight tug, something he seems to enjoy.

“Are you wet for me?” he asks, and I nod. “Good. Now reach into your panties and play with your pussy.”

Releasing his balls, I skim a hand down my body and spread my legs wider. I’m soaked, and the second my fingers make contact with my clit, I know it won’t take long to get myself off. He gathers my hair into a ponytail, holding it loosely as he guides me up and down, my fingers working overtime in small circles.

“Shit. I’m gonna come. Are you ready, baby? Are you almost there?”

I nod with his cock in my mouth, moaning around him. His breath hitches, and he pulls out, taking himself in hand and jerking roughly. I arch my back, presenting my breasts to him. As soon as the first spurt of thick cum lands on my chest, my pussy spasms, and I come hard.

---