Page 170 of Something So Strong

“No mouth… Tongue only.”

My eyebrows crease and I release a pitiful whine because he knows just how cruel that is.

Harder than I ever expected him doing it, Jesse slaps me, jarring my head to the right. Heat in the shape of a handprint beats against my skin and I dig my nails into his thighs.

He does it again and I breathe in suddenly, my chest buzzing from the sting.

“You gonna be a good boy?”

“Yes.”

He seizes a handful of my hair and jerks me forward. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Sure am, Pretty Baby.”

His satisfied smile as I stick out my tongue is sex personified.

Guiding me, he brings my head to his cock.

His scent hits my nose like a freight train and I sniff again deeply, exhaling against his balls.

“Fuck, you smell good,” I speak out of turn, eager for the consequences.

With my neck craned back, Jesse spits onto my tongue. “Don’t you dare put that thing back in your mouth till I’m done with it.”

My dick bounces between my legs as I feel his saliva dripping from my tongue to my chin.

“Now, be a good boy, and lick me clean.”

Wrenching my head forward, Jesse pushes my chin against his sack and watches as the tip of my tongue tickles the fleshy underside of his cock.

Releasing my hair, his hand slides to the nape of my neck.

In one long pass, I drag my tongue and both of our spit up the length of his shaft, lapping the salty bitterness he left there for me.

I want to roll his taste around the inside of my mouth so badly.

I want to swallow this small gift, but I’m forced to continue washing his pretty cock with my dripping tongue.

My saliva is so plentiful it starts spilling over my bottom lip. And just when I think I can’t take it anymore, Jesse’s free hand grips my jaw and lifts me. Leaning down, he meets me halfway to lick us both from my tongue before giving me what I’d asked at the crosswalk—his own. Deep. Pressing down just how he knows I like it.

He doesn’t fight me like he usually does. Instead, he traces back and forth on my gums and the back of my teeth until my head sags in his hands.

“Pathetic,” he touts, tossing my head away. But his grin is undeniable.

Curling my tongue back into my mouth, I savor his taste and try to retrace the same movements he just made as I watch him pull off his striped henley.

Raising his feet, he motions for me to take off his shoes and jeans.

I tug off his Vans without untying the laces and ease his jeans over his feet. But then, when I go to remove his socks, he wriggles free and drags up from the base of my cock with his right foot until it’s pressed firmly against my stomach. Then his left nudges at my chest until I’m sitting back on my heels.

His socks—which probably cost more than anything I’ve ever owned—feel like velvet against me as his toes massage my balls. The pressure of his right foot never eases until his left ascends again, this time landing on my face and forcing me against the cold window. Holding me there.

“Fuck, you look good like that,” he keens, grazing over his already hardened nipples with his soft hands. “And I love that I’m the only one that gets to see it.”

Finally, his right foot moves. Jesse draws it upward, his toes grazing, the soft cotton gliding over me like butter. Up and down, up and down, never offering me anywhere near enough.

With the windows completely fogged, Jesse flicks the internal lights on and clicks his tongue at the unobstructed view of me in all my sullied glory; hands behind my back and glaring at him side on, pretending to hate the disgrace of it all despite every cell in my body begging for more.

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