Page 110 of Short Stack 3

“If it wasn’t, it should be, and my picture would be beside it in the dictionary.”

He waves a hand. “You appear to have been spinning for a while. Are you getting dizzy?”

I come to a stop and sway. “A bit,” I confess, the wine I had over dinner making me feel sleepy and happy. His grin gets wider, so I raise my jumper and show him my abs. His smile dips slightly as I whip the jumper off. I hold it over my chest and give him a sultry glance. “Prudish, moi?”

“Multilingual too, I see.”

“Yep. I even know the words to this song.”

“That is not exactly difficult. He appears to be singing the same words over and over again.”

“So we dance,” I say knowledgeably and wink at him before chucking my jumper at him. It lands on his face, which has the benefit of covering his piss-taking grin for a second. By the time he takes it off, my jeans are unzipped, and I’ve kicked off my shoes. I play with the zip, pulling it up and down, and then flinch. “Fuck, I got a pube,” I mutter, and a choked sound emits from my beloved.

I toss my head in a sultry fashion. “Who needs pubes anyway?” I shout over the noise of the song starting again. Who put it on repeat?“What is their function in life?”

“Maintaining optimal genital temperature.”

I stop dancing, and I have to say it’s a bit of a relief to take a breath. “Never.Really?” He nods, and I shrug. “And they’re still more useful than Carl.”

I shove my jeans off and dance around him, singing along to the song.

He licks his lips. “I do not think those are the lyrics, Laurie.”

“Who cares? I am one with the music.”

“That is not the good thing you’re hoping for.”

I throw my jeans away and cringe when there’s a crash and something breaks. I hope it isn’t anything expensive or handmade. I decide to ignore it because it’s interfering with my interpretative dance. Even knowing I’ve been manoeuvred into this by Mags, my competitive spirit is egging me on. Well, that, and all the wine from dinner.

I dance around in front of him before stopping to look down and leer in an exaggerated manner. Then I spin and bend down, thrusting my bum in his face. I feel him shift, and then his hands come down on my hips, and he spins me round to face him. I blink when I see his lowered lids and the flush on his cheekbones. “You’re kidding me,” I say in amazement. “Thisis what does it for you.”

“I think we will tell no one of this, Laurie.”

“It will be your shameful secret.”

“Do we not share everything?”

“Not this. You’re on your own, mate.”

I start to laugh, and then it dies away as he leans in and nuzzles my dick. His breath is hot and moist through the cotton of my underwear. “Yes,” I say, hearing how breathy my voice has gone. I love these moments between us. I’ve had a lot of sex over the years, but sex with him is freeing in a way I never experienced before. I’m more me with him than I’ve ever been with anyone, and I know it’s the same for him.

He mouths my cock, which is now rigid and tenting my boxers. Then he presses his nose into my groin and inhales. “I love the way you smell,” he says, his Danish accent more pronounced.

I nod, cupping his face, feeling the sharp bones and noticing the way his eyes are a warmer brown than usual. I cry out as he pulls off my underwear and takes the head of my cock into his mouth. He suckles, and I lean into his hands. His mouth is hotand wet, and the suction is perfect. He knows exactly what I like and never fails to give it to me.

I screw my eyes shut and moan as he pulls away and trails kisses down my shaft, licking the veins before kissing the root of my cock. He nuzzles it, his stubble abrading my skin so the pleasure is sharp and almost painful. “God, that’s so good,” I whisper.

He sits back, his face flushed and his lips full. “Feed it to me,” he orders, and the command is so hot that I hasten to obey. I tap my cock on his mouth, and he opens it, his hand falling to press on his own cock, which is tenting his jeans in an obscene way that makes my mouth water.

Then I remember that I never like to do what he tells me immediately — it sets a bad precedent. So instead of pushing into his mouth, I tap my cock on his cheek.

“When have I ever done what you tell me?” I say huskily.

He gives me a feral grin. “When I am going to blow you. You’re usually rather more obedient then.”

“True.” I slide my cock along his lip, painting the surface with my precome, groaning when his tongue appears to lap it up.

“You taste wonderful,” he murmurs.

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