Page 177 of Forced Vows

Taking a breath for courage (because his erection does not get any less intimidating on acquaintance), I pull the waistband of his boxers away from his body. I force myself to go slow, sliding the fabric down over the impressively hard penis pressing against his flat stomach.

"Beautiful," I breathe.

Darker than his normal skin tone and flushed with blood, veins pop along the imposing length. Why did so many ancient sculptors downplay the artistic merit of this part of anatomy?

His laughter is choked. "My cock is not beautiful. Your pussy on the other hand…"

I huff warm air over the tip, and he doesn't finish his thought. How badly do I want to taste the pearl of precum beaded on the slit?

"You're so big," His girth makes my mouth water even though I have no idea if I can stretch my lips wide enough to take him, or not. "I can't believe I fit this in my vajayjay, much less my back door."

"Your body was made for mine." He gently removes the headband from my hair and tosses it away so he can run his fingers through my curls. "I'm going to fit right down that tight little throat of yours too."

My vagina pulses with want, but I say, "I'm not sure if I'm ready to deep throat on my first time."

"Don't underestimate yourself." He winks down at me. Then grows serious. "But my perfect Aphrodite, I'll take what I can get even if it's you licking my head like a lollipop."

That sound like fun, so I lick right over his slit, the taste of his pre-cum sweeter than I expect. I thought guys jizz was supposed to be bitter.

More pearly liquid seeps out and I lap it up like Pusheen with a saucer of cream.

Gripping that big erection with both hands, I squeeze. Cliché, I know, but my fingers don't touch. It amazes me I can take this big piece of meat inside of my body.

His groan goes through me like a caress.

I like this. I like it a lot.

I suckle the tip until he snarls for me to do something. He doesn't say what, just do something in that deep, growly voice of his.

So, I do something, sucking him in as far as I can. He hits the back of my throat and I suck harder.

I don't have much of a gag reflex which my cousins have always envied when it came to taking pills and brushing our teeth, etc., but now I'm really happy for it.

I can suck more of him into my mouth, but I'm not sure about swallowing him into my throat. If I do, I'm not going to gag, but will I be able to breath?

His hips jerk a little, but he doesn't try to shove forward. Stretching my lips as wide as I can, I revel in the sensation. They sting a little and my jaw sort of aches.

And I like that too. Will I like him in my throat? My hands squeeze involuntarily at the thought and he groans. Loudly.

He likes that.

I do it again, but this time I push them down to his root before pulling them all the way back to meet my mouth on his dick.

Am I masturbating him? Milking him? I need a sex dictionary. Preferably with diagrams. Maybe I can find one at my favorite online UBS. Used bookstores have the coolest books on subjects you wouldn't expect.

Anyway, I don't know what you call what I'm doing, but it feels good to do and it's making Miceli make all sorts of sex noises. His legs are even shaking a little.

A sense of power rushes through me. I can do this to this man. Me. Róise Shaughnessy.

And nobody else ever gets to touch him like this again. No one except me. My thighs press together hard and I moan. Because that feels good too.

I suck harder and he hits the back of my throat again, this time a little harder. "Swallow me. It will work. Trust me."

I don't know if I would be willing to try except, he sounds so desperate. And I like that almost as much as his taste.

The next time he hits the back of my throat, I swallow hard and he goes down my throat. Just like that. Wow.

I keep swallowing and a litany of curses falls down on my head. Some in Italian. Some English. Some are shouts and others an agonized whisper.

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