Page 198 of S is for SEX

“Decorate this room.”

“No,” she said. “I did it myself. Like it?”

I nodded my head and turned to face her. “It looks really good.”

She swept her arm across the bed, clearing it of almost all of the pillows in one swipe. After tossing a few loose pillows into the pile, two were left on the bed.

“Sit,” she said as she walked toward the dresser.

Soft jazz began to fill the room.

“I used to listen to that CD every night when I went to sleep. It was like my lullaby,” she said.

“Soothing,” I said.

She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the comforter with her hand. “Sit.”

Reluctantly, I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Uhhm. I’m really glad you came over. My mother likes you. I knew she would, but it’s nice to see her happy,” she said as she rested her hand on my thigh.

“I’m glad I came, too,” I said as I glanced down at her hand.

Although Riley and I had been seeing each other for almost a month, we had yet to make any progress from a sexual standpoint. When the time came, and as long as I was ready, I figured I would allow myself to proceed sexually with her. Her actions, words, and constant innuendoes were enough for me to understand she was more than ready, but it was me I was worried about.

And for good reason.

“Blake,” she said as she squeezed my thigh in her hand lightly.

I continued to glance around the room as I responded. “Yeah?”

“I uhhm…I want to…I want to. I want to give you head,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“I want to make you happy,” she said.

She had caught me completely off guard. “I am happy,” I said, providing a rather feeble statement to assure her I was.

“I want to do this,” she said as she leaned toward me and kissed me lightly.

I felt my cock rising in my pants as my mind floated away to thoughts of her lips wrapping around the shaft of my rod. As I attempted to clear my mind of the thought, she began to fumble with my belt and zipper.

No differently than men who get coerced into robbing a bank, committing murder, or buying a new car they had only hoped to test drive, I sat and stared as she pulled my pants to mid-thigh. My boxers soon followed, and as much as I believed I wanted her to stop, I provided absolutely no effort to make her do so. Within a matter of sixty seconds, she had my cock in her hand and gazed down at it admiringly.

“Your cock is pretty,” she said.

I swallowed and had every intention of saying something.

But nothing came.

I watched in slight shock and utter amazement as she licked the tip, dragged her tongue along the shaft, and eventually softly began to suck the swollen head in her mouth.

As I continued to stare no differently than the deer immediately prior to catching the front bumper of a truck on the highway, she slowly worked her mouth up and down the shaft of my swollen dick.

A combination of who she was, how I felt about her, and witnessing what she was doing aroused me to a level I had yet to know. Her sheer beauty alone was enough to put me over the edge and leave me with very little, if any, stamina.

Realizing she chose to do what she was doing with no suggestion or comment on my part was enough in itself to convince me she truly cared for me and wanted to share herself with me in a more intimate sense than a simple friendly relationship of kissing, holding hands, and talking. As odd as it seemed to accept, her sucking my cock was the deciding factor in me falling over the edge of the cliff into the abyss known as love that lingered below.

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