Page 97 of The Auction
“Fuuuuck, baby, that’s so good,”he groaned.
He was sitting up against the headboard, his legs spread. While I was on my knees between his thighs, bent over and sucking the head of his dick into my mouth. My right hand creating some friction for him at the base, too.
“Who the fuck taught you how to do that?” he moaned.
My husband thought he was a comedian because obviously he was the one who taught me how to do this.
It was definitely a trial and error type of activity at first. Mostly because of fear and uncertainty, but the one thing Creed had been adamant about through all of our sexual experimentation, if I didn’t like it, we didn’t do it.
There was so much freedom in that because there was zero pressure to either please or perform. As sheltered as I’d been, I hadn’t been naïve. I’d read and explored as much as the internet would allow me that I could conceivably hide from Herb. I knew women faked orgasms to please men. I knew women gave blow jobs and swallowed semen to please men.
I knew all of those things, but Creed wouldn’t have any of it.
He let me be curious about his dick. How I touched him, how it made him feel. When I licked him for the first time, his legs shuddered. When I took him inside my mouth for the first time, I got so wet that when he fucked me, we didn’t need lube.
That was something the books couldn’t prepare me for. That there was pleasure to be had in the touching. That making your partner feel good brought intense sexual satisfaction. I didn’t give Creed blow jobs because he asked me, I gave him blow jobs because of how he looked right now.
His head bent, watching me take him inside my mouth, his legs shaking a bit if I swallowed him a little deeper. The red flush high on his cheeks. The way his head would tip back and he hissed like he was in agony.
I knew that agony, too, because when he had me on my back, my legs spread while he knelt between them, I felt that same tortured pleasure. Like my skin was going to peel off it was so intense.
I pushed him carefully to the back of my throat, taking more of him than I ever had and felt that rush of wetness between my legs.
“Ahhh! That’s it, babe. Pull up.”
He hadn’t yet come in my mouth. He said I wasn’t ready, like it was some kind of honors class I needed to prep for with the basics. But that was also the fun of being able to sexually experiment with the person who was locked in a committed relationship with you. I could push his boundaries without concern of retaliation that wasn’t mind-blowingly pleasurable.
I squeezed my hand around his cock and continued to stroke him with my mouth, my lips, my tongue. A rhythmthat built and built. I could feel his legs pressing in against my shoulders. His hips tilting up toward my mouth. His hands were locked on the headboard over his head because he had a tendency to push on the back of my head a bit too hard, urging me to take more of him. Something we’d learned the first few times I’d done this.
And he’d learned there was another level of pleasure to be had when he had no control over my actions. When he didn’t know if I was going to suck more of him into my mouth, or just play around the head of his cock with my tongue. When I was going to pull away, or when I was going to try and swallow him down my throat.
“Fuck, Jules!” he barked. “Now, or I’m going to shoot down your throat.”
It might have been the visual of something literally shooting down my throat, that had me slipping down the bed and pulling away from him.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His hands were gripping the top of the headboard hard, like he was trying to hold back his orgasm through sheer force of will.
I sat back on my haunches, naked, and played with my tight nipples, as I watched him try and overcome his body’s instincts. So fucking hot. I was about to reach down to touch my clit, when his head jerked up, his eyes pinning my hands in place.
“I’m going to fuck you up for that, Jules,” he growled.
I hoped so.
“I’m too jacked up now to suck on your pussy. Climb on top of me and start riding baby, I need to come.”
Scrambling up on the bed, I got into position the way we’d done before. He liked to be sitting up when I rode him, rather than flat on his back. He also preferred it when I faced him. No reverse cowboy for this big guy. Hewanted my eyes and my mouth and breasts all within reach.
Together we lined his dick up with my slit and then with one easy shift, he was inside me to the hilt.
We’d done it like a hundred times since that first time, (okay, probably more like twenty, it had only been a month and one of my hard nos was doing anything during my period), and each time it still hurt a little, but more than that, it thrilled.
Creed had once told me cock felt good and he was right. It always felt so good. Like finding that itch you could never quite reach, except his cock got there every time. Hard and deep, it touched this place inside me that felt so secretive. Like he was the only person on earth who knew it was there.
And maybe he was.
I must have worked him up good with my mouth, because now his hands were on my hips directing me how he wanted. His hips snapped up into me. His hands gripped my ass cheeks hard, sliding me up and down his dick. I braced my hands on his shoulders and squeezed my fingers into his muscles, like I was trying to squeeze my body around where he penetrated me.
A little harder. A little tighter.
