Page 2 of Unbossly Manners

Twenty minutes of my life I’ll never get back.

It was time to put us out of our misery. I tossed my head back and began my quick crescendo. Over the years, I’d become a master at faking it.

He sat back and sighed, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Finally.”

My jaw tightened at his nerve. What a fucker.

He hopped onto the cushion next to me. My underwear was around my ankles and I shimmied them up. He smacked a kiss on my cheek, unzipped his jeans, and yanked them and his boxers off.

“This is gonna be good.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

His hand circled my cheek and he kissed me gently. The attraction I’d felt during the date stirred in my belly. The kiss deepened, and the desire I’d lost while he was going down on me, reignited. My hand drew down his stomach, and over his stiff cock.

“Fuck, yeah.” He broke the kiss.

I slid my hand upward, but my long pointy nail caught the edge of his tip and he yelped.

“Ouch. Watch it, Peyton.”

“Sorry.” My belly dropped, and my confidence waned.

I kissed him again. I liked the kissing. His hands wrapped around my head and heat swirled in my gut. He held tighter to my skull and pushed my head downward until I had no choice but to sink to my knees, his protruding dick pointed at my mouth.

I could stop right now, but that just felt rude. And I needed the experience. I think I’d had three dicks in my mouth in total.

When I’d moved to the city three months ago, I carried a list of goals with me. One of them was to master sex. Or at least get a B+. My other goals—in no particular order—were to be promoted in twelve months, avoid anyone finding out who my mother was, find my own apartment, and say yes to shit that scared me.

And sex stuff scared me.

I’d hoped going out with Chip would nail two goals—mastering sex and doing something that scares me. I’d been so busy at my new job, Chip was the first guy I’d hooked up with in the city. I couldn’t just grab some rando off the street—I could but that wasn’t my style—so when my roommate’s cute brother came to stay with us for a week and asked me out, I knew exactly what I wanted from the date.

Practice.

I thought it would be fun. Gossip Girl sure made sex look amazing. I know it’s a show, but Selena acted like sex was better than piña coladas on a tropical island.

So here I was. And here I went…

His cock was on the smaller side, which was a relief—less real estate to work with. I took him in my mouth and moved back and forth swiftly.

“Whoa. Slow down.” His palm pressed against my forehead and forced me backward.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slowed my pace.

He flicked his hips forward, shoving his dick deeper into my mouth. I jerked back and my teeth scraped his shaft.

“Watch your fucking teeth,” he yelped.

“Sorry,” I said.

My confidence plummeted to the basement, but I soldiered on because we were already in the middle of it and it would be awkward AF to stop.

I slid down his short length, and when I got to the base he bucked his hips upward again, and his tip hit my throat. I gagged on my spit, and buckled over, a coughing fit wracking my body.

When I recovered, I took a shaky breath and tried to find a way to salvage this night. I was flailing in the middle of the ocean without a life raft.

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