Page 76 of Jingle Belle's Biker

She’s stretched around me, her tongue exploring as she starts to bob, licking, sucking, tasting. Her fingers are squeezing at the base, stroking my tight, high balls, and I’m so on the verge I can’t stand it.

I want this moment to end. I want it to go on forever, right on that cusp, me fighting the urge to come, and she sucks me down deep, so deep she gags.

“Fuck. Belle, oh, fuck.” I go to pull her off, but instead, I tangle my fingers in her hair. I move her head so I can get deeper and take control of the thrusts.

This is the most erotically charged moment of my life, and I’m counting fucking her for the first time, counting the way she comes around me.

She’s fucking deep-throating me as best she can. We’re not all the way there, and I’m not going to push, but oh fuck, do I want to. Every inch of me’s burning for her, and her little sounds and swallowing motions on the tip of my cock are fast pushing me to the edge.

It’s a wonder my balls haven’t vanished in me.

I’m hanging on to control by a thread.

I need to come. To claim, to release. I need to fling myself into pleasure and leave the ache and urge behind.

But I’m not coming down her throat.

“Shit, Belle,” I say, the words thick in the air. “I’m gonna come, let go.”

I try and pull free, but as I look down, she makes eye contact and she slides her hands to my ass and pulls me in, holding on.

Oh. Fuck.

I can’t hold it, and I surge deep as I come. My cock swelling, twitching, my orgasm intense as I spurt into her.

When I’m done, she lets me go, and she stares up as I half-stagger, grabbing the table for support.

“Come fucking here, Belle.”

I haul her up, and I kiss her hard. I know she’s swallowed. I felt it, and thinking of that was almost enough to push me over the edge and come again.

So, I tuck myself away, and I kiss her again, deep, slow, taking my time, dancing with her tongue and delving into her. I could kiss this woman for hours. I could fucking worship her forever.

I raise my head. “On the fucking bench, Red.”

“Why?”

“So, I can return the favor. Taste you. Make you come. I’d fuck you, but I’m gonna need about ten minutes.”

“Favor?” She frowns.

I take hold of her chin and drop another kiss on her lips. “I’m saying I want to go down on you and eat you out, and you feel the need to focus on the word favor?”

“But I?—”

“I’ve been dying to eat you out again, Red. It’s a favor to me for you to kindly serve your pussy up to me. So, get up on the fucking bench.”

She doesn’t. Instead, she breaks free of my hold and picks up a project I just finished. Belle’s not really paying it attention. Because she’s nodding to herself, then she glances at me before hugging the carry case to her chest.

“I want to, but . . . I did that for you, yes, but I did it also because I wanted to. For the first time, I really, desperately wanted a cock in my mouth. I wanted to see if I liked it.”

I have so many fucking questions, and most of them end with the fantasy of beating the shit out of a whole slew of men I know nothing about, and Lance in particular. But I say, “And did you?”

“Yes.”

“Well.”

“And I think I want that to sit, on its own, in me. As something I did for me and you—obviously—without any favors or scorecard keeping. Is that okay?”

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