Page 162 of Mountain Grump
I freeze all motion, my dick hard as an axe handle in my grip.
“Stand up. And let me watch.” Tilda drops onto her back and drapes her arms above her head.
I pull my fingers free of her as I stand.
The bed is low.
She’s below me, looking up.
I’m in the position of power. But I have none of it.
It all belongs to her.
“Stroke your dick.”
I do.
Her eyes rove all over my body.
My cock. My stomach. My face.
“Are you close?”
I nod. “So fucking close.”
“Do you want to come?”
“God. Yes.” My bicep bulges as I continue to stroke. And,fuck, I’m so close. “Please,” I beg. “Please tell me I can come.”
Tilda makes a throaty humming sound. “Lick your fingers clean, then you can.”
Pressure builds in my balls.
That sentence is going to be burned into my memory until the day I die.
“Where?” I look down at her glorious body as I lift my fingers to my mouth. “Where should I come?”
I part my lips. And I lock my gaze with Tilda’s as I lick her shine off my fingers.
“On me.” She whispers the demand. “Come on me.” I suck a finger into my mouth, filling my senses with her taste. “Now, Ethan. Come now.”
My body obeys, and the first pulse of release splashes across her stomach.
The second lands on her tits.
“Good Boy.”
I keep stroking.
“That’s my Good Boy.”
I keep painting her with my pleasure.
Tilda lowers one hand and drags a finger through the streak on her tits, and my cock jolts a final time.
A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I sway.
I blink away the spots in my vision.
