Page 80 of Call Me Sir

It’s perfect for sipping coffee.

“Tonight was a lot,” I say to start the conversation.

If it’s even possible to have one with him with the way that he’s been brooding all evening.

It’s too dark to see if he’s nodding or not, so I opt to change the subject.

“There’s nothing like summer evenings. The sound of the city, the warm air with a cool breeze blowing it back-and-forth. In the city, knowing that life keeps moving and growing.”

I’m not sure where I’m going with what I’m sharing, but it feels good to be able to say it to him.

“There’s only one thing I can think of that would be better.”

“And what’s that?” he asks.

Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say the last part out loud.

“Ummm, nothing.”

There’s not even a slice of silence. “Tell me.”

I swallow hard, glancing down at the dark liquid in my mug. “Fucking you on the patio.”

Oh my god.

Did I actually admit that out loud?

I mean, I knew he knew I wanted to do that someday…. But I invited him in to chat about the awkward diner with his dad. Not confess my desire to have sex on my patio. And why did I say him specifically? I could’ve been more vague and said someone.

“Would I be fucking you while you grip onto the railing?” He asks so casually before sipping his coffee I have to lean in to absorb the question.

“Obviously.”

He smiles. Smiles! Then puts his coffee down, stands and steps over in front of me.

There’s a strange, electric energy buzzing between us and before I can think better of myself, I lean in and start making out with the front of his khaki pants.

With my eyes slammed closed I listen on high alert for noises to tell if he likes it or if I should stop.

Instantly his dick is straining in the goofy pants and a little grunt from him encourages me to keep going.

Gently he places a heavy hand on my hand and begins working his fingers through my hair. Jesus, having him ruin my hair is incredible.

Why does it feel like it’s the first time we’re touching each other? Our bodies aren’t new to each other.

Changing the pacing, I open my mouth and gently suck at the tip of his dick.

Is he throwing his head back as I curl my tongue around it gently? Sucking in a deep breath, I suck in as much of him as I can through the pants.

It’s not enough! I need all of him crashing into the back of my throat.

Pulling away, I reach up and start to tug at his belt.

“Cole…” Reluctant carries heavy weight in the word.

My hand drop is automatic, but my dick throws a fit by twitching madly in my pants.

Before he can dampen the heat, I say, “Sir, I think it’s imperative that we see this job to the end. We don’t want an unhappy customer.”

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