Page 50 of His Passerotta

This is way better than my fantasies.

She must take that as encouragement because she gives me a naughty look before closing her eyes and taking in more of me, only stopping when I hit the back of her throat.

“Mmm,” she hums, pumping what’s left of me with her hand.

My thighs clench from the sensation, and I spread my arms out to grip the back of the couch.

My eyes grow heavy, begging to close, but I don’t dare miss this view. I watch through half-hooded lids Bailey bob her head, taking turns licking, sucking, and stroking me. Her eyes stay closed most of the time, but occasionally, she looks up at me, desire expanding her pupils. Every time she does, my cock jumps, and my balls pang, begging for release.

“Fuck, that feels good,” I say, finally letting my eyes close for a moment when she gently massages my balls while gliding her hand over the half of me she can’t fit in her mouth.

I lay my head back and block out the swishing in my ears to listen to Bailey’s hums, savoring every sensation. I commit it all to memory so I’ll have it later when I’m picturing this exact scenario like I have a dozen times already. I’m already looking forward to it.

My hands grasp the couch, my body stiffening as I get close, and Bailey must pick up on it because she increases her speed.

I lift my hips once more with a groan as all the lust I’ve been filled with for days pours out into Bailey’s mouth, leaving me empty.

I fall back onto the couch, smoothing sweaty hair out of my face and breathing heavy as Bailey crawls onto the couch beside me. My head lazily swings to face her, and I can feel the stupid grin stretch across my face.

“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her to bring her closer to me.

“Prison.”

My smile falls as I feel my brow furrow.

She laughs and lightly slaps my chest. “I’m kidding.”

A breath whooshes out of me, relieved I don’t have to go kill a bunch of prison guards, and I pull up my pants. Temporarily. I need a break, but I’m nowhere near done.

“What was it like?” I ask, suddenly curious.

She opens and closes her mouth, searching her mind like she’s confused. “What was blowing you like?”

“What was prison like?”

Her face falls as she sinks into the back cushion. “It was … shitty.”

“Of course it was,” I say, regretting the question. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. Honestly, you get used to the people and the routines. After about a year, the actual prison part didn’t seem so bad. It was um…” Her eyes take on a glassy look, like she’s reliving it.

“It was what?” I ask.

She shrugs like it isn’t a big deal, but it clearly is. “The worst part was not knowing where my little brother was or what was happening to him. I have an older sister I thought may have taken him in but had no way of knowing. They didn’t umm…” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, needless to say, I lost my rights as his guardian.”

I nod as if I understand, but I don’t. I can’t. Family is everything to me. It’s been that way my entire life. It’s difficult to even imagine her situation.

“After I was released, I found out he had been in foster care that whole time and no one could even get ahold of my sister. So, yeah. My worst fears came true.”

I frown, and this time I do understand. I wasn’t raised in foster care, but I know people who were. Not an ideal situation for a scared, lonely kid. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice soft.

She waves it away and blinks moisture from her eyes. “Geez, we need to stop sitting on couches together. Clearly, my brain thinks it’s therapy time.” She laughs, but it sounds forced. “Would you uh… I mean, do you need to go?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t. But I’ll leave if you want me to.”

A couple of seconds pass while I wait for her answer. She seems uncertain of it. Conflicted.

I kiss her lips to make the decision easier for her.

---