Page 68 of The Idiot

Forming the ‘ice cream O’ he taught me, I capture his cockhead in my mouth and lap at the underside of his silky flesh. Shit. It’s so soft. I don’t think there’s a softer texture in existence. Cocks might very well have been made for our mouths.

And it’s warm, the perfect temperature, not an invasive contrast to the heat of my mouth. Staring down the remaining few inches, I can tell he’s shorter than his dildo, filling me with a burst of delight. I’ll be able to take all of him in, no problem.

The stifled noises he’s making, though, have me wanting to tease him, to make him wait for the grand finale. I didn’t know he could grunt so much or how sexy it sounds. Murph’s always in control with his deadpan jokes and comments. Rightnow, though? He sounds like he’s one grunt away from going caveman on me. I feel like a god.

Slurping and sucking, I cringe when a drop of drool trickles down my chin. Instinct has me wanting to wipe at it, but I remember what he said. My superhero panties are now a size too small. If he thought my dick looked obscene in them a moment ago, I can’t imagine what they look like on me now. The restriction is at least helping to hold back my own arousal. He said the giver should enjoy oral too, and I certainly am. I’m also certain this was the point where he said eye contact had the best effect.

Peering up, I watch his chest heave in and out as I bob my head. He’s gritting his teeth, and his eyes look like they do when he’s buzzed. I freaking made him drunk, drunk on my mouth. I really am a superhero.

His hips are starting to rock, nudging for more. His silent request has my stomach swirling and the hairs on my legs standing at attention.

When I draw back to the tip and suckle his tip with barely any pressure, he rasps, “You’re such a shit.”

He is completely unhinged. I want to see more of it. Smiling around his cock, I dive forward, feeling him slide all the way to the back of my throat.

Damn. Why does that feel so good? I’ve stuffed my face with more food than this, but the way his cock is filling my mouth is a sense of nourishment I’ve never experienced.

Gasping, his grip on my head tightens. “Jesse,” he grits. “Fucking hell. I’m going to cum if you keep that up.”

Groaning into his groin, I picture it. Will it taste like his precum? So far, I’m in heaven, spearing my constrained dick in the air.

We’re halfway through this cruise. We never talked about what happens when we go home or how long his exploration lessons are going to be available to me.

What if he starts going to Seattle again? All my exploring could just sexually frustrate him enough that he needs more and goes back to his road trips. I don’t like the sound of that. I have to try. Ihave to, because I’m not ready for this to end.

Gripping his hips tightly, I start working in earnest, even adding a few new moves to my technique. Swirling my tongue around his shaft as I retreat and return seems to be a welcome effect, judging by the sounds he’s making. My skin prickles under his touch, the way he’s caressing my jaw, the way his thumb is tracing my lips.

I remember he saidquality, notquantity, and he seems to make the most feral noises when I work his tip. Gripping the rest of his length, I start stroking him while giving everything I have to feasting on his cockhead.

“Jesse!” he croaks.

The next thing I know, warm fluid hits my tongue. Ha! I did it!

Whoa. It’s… a lot, and it just keeps coming.

Crap. What do I do?

I’m pretty sure I just downed a gulp of it. Was I supposed to? I don’tlovethe taste, but I don’t exactly hate it. It just… is what it is, but… it’s sperm; living, squiggly, microscopic sperm. Right?

It’salive.

And now it’s inside of me.

Hands slip underneath my armpits and haul me to my feet. Dazed and breathless, Murph stares at me.

Shit. I should have swallowed before he pulled me up. Now I look like a squirrel with a mouth full of nuts.

Recognition flickers on his face. “You don’t have to—”

Before he can finish his sentence, I gulp. He should really learn to speak faster.

Wetting my lips, I blush. “It’s fine. Or… I hope it’s fine. Whatever. It’s done.”

“Jesse, I told you that if you don’t like something, you don’t have to do it. Not everyone likes the taste of fluids.”

“The taste is fine,” I counter, then realize I never imagined discussing jizz with him like it’s some kind of delicacy. “It’s just… strange.”

“How can it be fineandstrange? You don’t have to pretend you like it,” he assures me, stroking my arms and resting his forehead against mine.

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