Page 103 of Romance Languages

“Don’t fuck it up,” I teased, knowing that would be impossible.

Once we got into my apartment, Seamus shut the door and took over, pushing me up against the wall until our cocks were aligned under our pants. Our lips came together in a rage of heat and need. My stupidPretty Womanrule had kept me from kissing this man all month. Stupid Julia Roberts.

I pulled away to catch my breath. His lips were as red and flushed as mine likely were.

“This is the final exam, Jules. And like all final exams, you will be tested on all material studied over the course of the semester. I hope you crammed.”

“I think you’ll be the one cramming.” I flashed him a wicked smile. Luckily, he seemed to be a fan of my dirty mouth.

He smashed our lips together in violent need, his hand skimming down to my rock hard dick. His tongue slid into my mouth, setting off fireworks. I mashed our crotches together, heat and friction pushing me closer to the edge.

“On your knees,” he commanded, his voice husky.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I looked up at him from the floor, his eyes deep pools of need. I stroked him over his dress pants, his erection thick and hard. And all mine.

Seamus could only handle so much foreplay before he whipped open his belt. He struggled with the clip to undo his pants.

“Fuck. Why do they make this shit so difficult?” he fumed. “Why can’t suit pants just have a button like normal jeans? Why do they gotta be so frickin’ hoity-toity?”

“Allow me,” I said, calm and collected. I’d worn lots of dress pants in my life. I unclasped and zipped down the fly, teasingly taking my time before everything fell to the floor. His cock flopped in my face, heavy and engorged.

Not to pat myself on the back, but I was a flawless student, expertly remembering our previous blow job lessons. My tongue lapped over the head and slinked down his shaft.

“Holy fuck.”

“Good?” I asked.

“Very very.”

“Because I’m a student that needs constant validation.” I smacked his cock on my tongue.

“How’s this for validation: I’m desperately trying not to come right now, but you’re making it damn near impossible with that hot, pretty little mouth of yours.” He threaded his fingers behind my head and fucked into my mouth hard.

“Baby, you are fucking fire. Take it,” he said before being reduced to a puddle of moaning.

The heat of his length filled my mouth. I licked down to his balls, taking one then the other in my mouth.

“Stand up,” he growled.

When I got up, I noticed his shirt had come off during the blow job.

“Your turn.” Seamus leaned over to turn off the lights, but I stopped him. I didn’t need darkness anymore.

I gave my first striptease. First came my tie and vest. Each button of my shirt that popped open was another rush of freedom and abandon. I waved it over my head and flung it behind the couch. Cool air hit my chest, but I wasn’t done. I ran my hands down my chest, feeling a love for my body that had eluded me all my life.

“Yes, baby.” Seamus watched while stroking himself.

I flicked open my dress pants, shimmying my ass until they fell off on their own. I pushed down my boxers, letting my cock hang free.

And there I was. Julian Bradford. Naked by his own hand.

Seamus feasted on the sight.

“I need to have you.” He crashed our lips together, cocks tangling below. He grabbed my big ass and squeezed, pulling us closer.

“I need you to fuck me, Seamus. Make me scream and come for you.”

He kissed along my collarbone, a tender moment amid the lust, reminding me that this wasn’t just a sex haze. This was something special.

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