Page 111 of Short Stack 3

I give in and slide my dick into his mouth. He takes it all, and there’s something about him obeying and me being naked while he’s still fully dressed that increases the eroticism of the moment.

I throw my head back, panting loudly as he takes me down the back of his throat and swallows. When I look back at him, I nearly come. His lips are shiny and wet, stretched tight around my length. Watching me, he cups my arse and pulls me forward and then pushes me back. He makes the suction tight and incredible, and soon, I’m moaning and groaning far too loudly for being in his mother’s spare room.

One hand grips me and pulls my cheeks open. He raises the other hand to me. In it is a packet of lube. “Get me ready,” he orders. My cock thumps, and I take his fingers in my mouth, fellating them until they’re sloppy and we’re both breathing heavily. Then, leaning over him, I unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. It’s hard, and I trace the vein on it before need overtakes me, and I lube it until it gleams in the low light. Then I squeeze the rest onto his outstretched hand.

“You know what to do,” I say hoarsely. His eyes are lowered to half mast, and he nods, immediately finding my hole. I tap my cock on his lips, and he sucks me back in before tracing his fingers over my opening. I grunt, shoving into his mouth so hard that he chokes. I don’t let up and shove in again because it’s so hot, and I know he doesn’t want me to stop. As if on cue, he moans around my cock, his eyes lowered.

His finger taps my hole, and then he gently slides the tip in. It makes electric sparks tingle along my spine. “More,” I say hoarsely, and his eyes fly open. For a few seconds, we watch each other until the erotic sight is too much, and I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing into his mouth and back onto his fingers.

Soon, the room is full of the sound of my choked whines and moans as he moves my hips, making me fuck his face.

“I’m close,” I whisper, and he sucks harder.

With a groan, I pull out of his mouth and scramble into his lap, my need making me clumsy. He grabs my hips hard, his fingers hurting and adding to the pleasure. We move easily into position, and I ease down on him. The slide is easy, and when I bottom out, I rest there for a second, relishing the delicious stretch inside me as we look at each other. “Hey,” I say rather stupidly.

His lip quirks in a smile. “Min elskede.” He taps my hips. “Move.”

I nod, and soon, I’m bouncing on his cock, my head thrown back and my hands resting on his thighs. The position makes me arch, and he takes advantage of it, fisting my dick in his slick palm and mouthing stinging kisses into my throat. I can feel the rasp of his stubble, and that, mixed with the sublime feeling inside me, sends me over the edge before I know it.

“Fuck,” I gasp. Clenching my arse, I unload spunk down his expensive shirt. It looks gloriously smutty, and I continue to ride him as he runs his fingers through the mess. I watch avidly as he sucks it off his fingertips and then arches up off the chair, thrusting into me as he comes.

Eventually, I lever off him, feeling his come leak from me. For a few moments, I can’t speak as I pant and wait for the sparks behind my eyes to vanish. “I think you fucked out my brains,” I finally say, looking down at him.

He licks his swollen lips. “That wouldn’t take a lot of effort,” he observes. He kisses me, and there’s a sweetness there that stands in contrast to what we just did. He taps my hips in mute command, and I climb off him as he rises to his feet. It’s extraordinarily erotic to be naked in front of him while he’s still dressed in his expensive clothing. “So, what conclusion have you come to, Laurie?” he asks, his eyes dancing as he fastens his jeans.

I ponder the question for a moment. “I’m extremely vulnerable to peer pressure from you when we’re drunk, and I’m not prudish. I just don’t want to see your mother’s boobs.”

“Ah, and so say many men to no avail.” I eye him calculatingly, and he shifts. “What?”

“Say I’m not prudish.”

He starts to laugh. “I will not.” He adopts a prim expression. “I cannot tell a lie.”

“Oh my god, that’s the biggest whopper tonight.” I shove him gently, and he falls back onto the bed. Instead of jumping up, heputs his hands behind his head rather insouciantly and watches me.

“Now what?”

I edge onto the bed, crawling over to him, and his eyes watch me, the amusement and love in them very clear.

“I think we should do something,” I say in a conversational tone.

He raises an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“I think I should tickle you until you admit I’m not a prude.”

His eyes flare with horror. “No,” he says quickly, but it’s too late, and I fall on him, pinning him down as I twist my fingers in his armpits, tickling him. “My god,” he says in horror, squirming. “No, get off. Laurie,stopthis.” He’s trying to sound authoritative, but it’s hard to manage that when you’re curled up like a hedgehog and laughing helplessly. Finally, he gasps, “I give in. You are not prudish, Laurie.”

“And?”

“And what? Mygod, you are demanding.”

“Tell me how wild I am?”

“You are wilder than Endof, which is an accomplishment considering that last week he did more damage to our flat than Viking invaders would have managed.”

Satisfied, I sit back. “I miss him. Did you tell Flora that we’d pick him up tomorrow?”

Flora is our neighbour in France. She’s in her seventies and could outdrink and out-curse a ship full of sailors. Needless to say, she and Mags get on like a house on fire.

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