Page 83 of The Bro-code

“Hey,” I giggle as he hoists me over his shoulder and carries me toward the showers.

I’m surprised to see partitions and doors closing every cubicle. They don’t go all the way from floor to ceiling, but if anyone walked in on us, all they would see is our feet. Maybe Jagger’s head, because he must be well over six feet. Even with my four inch heels, I’m too short to be seen over the top of the saloon style shower doors.

Jagger places me back on my feet. “Jagger, we can’t have a shower, I didn’t bring anything to fix my hair and?—”

“We aren’t here to get clean,” his smile is devilish. “We’re here to get dirty.”

Well, then.

Maybe I should take off my shoes, but they make me feel sexy and like this he towers over me by just about a foot.

Not that it’ll matter, since I’m gonna be on my knees in a few seconds, but the extra height makes reaching his lips a lot easier.

We kiss again, his big hands immediately closing over my tits. I love the way he touches me, and my body responds with that intense, unmistakable throb between my legs.

His eyes have lost their golden color, the green specks in them darkening his irises as we part and stare at each other.

I don’t say anything, I just sink down to my knees as I drag his underwear down with both hands.

When his cock springs free, I close my fingers around the base, keeping my eyes on his.

“Bay,” he murmurs. “Even if we lose, I don’t think I’m ever going to get luckier than this.”

I know he wants me, his hard-on says as much, but his words spur me on. Jagger has no idea what he did for me yesterday. Or maybe he does, but he did much more than making me feel good. He showed me that the only thing that was wrong with me was dating someone too selfish to care if I came or not. Who had to assign blame, rather than work harder, to make sex good for both of us.

I never saw it before how his feelings for me were all talk. On the outside, he would treat me like a princess, lavishing me with gifts and affection. That was nothing but gaslighting, meaningless grand gestures meant to hide his selfishness, his controlling and deceitful nature.

But I don’t want to think about him right now.

This is all about Jagger and I’ve never wanted to do something as much as I want to go down on him right now.

I lick the length of his shaft, starting from the base and massaging his underside until I find that spot where he likes to be touched, right under his crown.

I circle his tip with my tongue a couple of times, just teasing his favorite spot. He takes notice of it, inhaling sharply every time my tongue touches it.

“Oh fuck,” he growls when I take his cockhead into my mouth, sucking and massaging it with my tongue at the same time.

I stay there for a while, licking and sucking, pumping his shaft with one hand, while my other hand cradles Jagger’s pink, symmetrical balls.

He voices his approval, with soft moans and whispering words of encouragement, and I’m really enjoying myself too.

I use slow, deliberate movements, spying the way the muscles in his lower stomach contract and twitch every time I do something that feels particularly good.

Every time I switch from licking to sucking, I dip my head a little lower, taking more of him into my mouth.

His balls feel tighter, his shaft harder than ever and I realize that he must be getting close.

I’ve never deepthroated anyone, but the way Jagger reacts every time the tip of his cock gets deeper into my mouth, makes me want to try.

“Fuck,” he grunts when his cock hits the back of my throat, and that’s my cue to continue.

My head bobs up and down, the ends of my ponytail tickling the center of my back as it swings with the movement.

“Bay,” his moan is needy and desperate at the same time, his eyes almost closed. “I’m so fucking close. If you don’t want me to shoot in your mouth, now it’s time to—oh, Jesus.”

Yup, I did that. I just raked my nails over his balls while I went as deep as I could take him.

Jagger’s cock swells into my mouth and I grab his hips to keep him exactly where I wanted him.

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