Pucked Up

“Oh, Miller. Are you sure—”

I don’t even let her finish. “I’m totally fine.”

She wraps her warm fingers around my cock and presses it against my stomach. With her other hand, she gently cups my balls. I don’t know how to describe the feeling. I probably, most definitely shouldn’t be entertaining any of this right now. As good as it feels, it’s also slightly uncomfortable. I’m willing to power through, though.

“Is that okay?”

I groan in response.

Su

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” She’s still for a few beats. “You can let go of my hand now.”

“Oh, right.” I stroke her cheek. She smiles up at me, then goes back to staring at my dick. It’s at face level. I won’t lie. I want her to put it in her mouth. It would be so warm and wet and . . .

Su

Then she goes lower. I don’t want to get excited all over again, but anytime a woman goes lower than nipples, she’s usually pla

“Sweets . . .” I don’t know what my reservations are about. My dick has been in a lot of different mouths over the years, but this is different. I’m pretty sure Su

She looks up from her spot above my navel. Another inch or two and she’ll be licking the head. “Don’t you want me to?”

It’s almost impossible to read her expression. I can’t tell if she’s concerned, offended, disappointed, scared, or something else.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been fantasizing about this since the day I met you.” I reach down and trace the curve of her pouty bottom lip. She lifts her chin and bites the end of my thumb, then sucks softly.

“Are you too uncomfortable still?” She circles the head with her fingertip, over and over. It feels amazing. Good enough that although the dull ache in my balls occasionally becomes a sharp stabbing pain, I won’t ask her to stop.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything.”

“I don’t feel obligated.” She kisses below my navel, about three inches away from the base of my cock. “But I’m not very good at this. I wanted to give you fair warning.”

“Not very good? What does that mean?” My first thoughts are not the chivalrous kind.

Her cheeks flush. “I haven’t had a lot of practice.”

“Oh.” I grin. I’m happy about that, and I don’t care if it makes me a jerk. “You can practice on me all you want.” My reassurance doesn’t have the effect I’m hoping for, which is her lips wrapped around my cock. Instead, she looks uncertain. “But only if you want to.”

“I want to. You’ll tell me if I’m doing it wrong?”

Unless she’s chewing on it like a cob of corn, it’s difficult to fuck up a blow job. “You’re go

She lowers her mouth to my cock. But she doesn’t just go for it. Nope. Su

I keep my hands fisted at my sides, taking in the sight and the sensation. Both are incredible. When she engulfs the head, she sucks hard, like my cock’s a lollipop someone’s trying to steal.

I groan at the suction and sift my hand through her hair, ready to guide her mouth.

“Okay?” she asks, the word distorted by my cock.

“Way better than okay.”

No sooner are the words out of my mouth than I feel the distinct press of teeth below the head. My loose grip on her hair tightens reflexively. “Wha—”

Su

“Easy,” I murmur.

She grins, and her teeth are replaced by soft suction. Her eyes stay locked on mine the entire time. I can’t imagine anyone telling her she isn’t any good at head.

I’m on the verge of coming, so I ease her off, wanting to save that particular selfish act for another location, if she’s willing to let that happen.

“Was that okay? You didn’t come.”

I sit down on my shorts, which are draped over the log, and lift her so she’s straddling me again. My wet cock rests against the inside of her leg, the head pressed up against the bathing suit material.

“I didn’t come because I didn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to?”

I kiss her puffy, wet lips. “I want to be inside you for that. I want your mouth on mine when I come.”

“But it was okay?”

“You were a million times better than okay.”

Her smile is more radiant than a sunrise.

I pull the ties on either hip and the front folds down, exposing her pink slit. I slide a knuckle low, rubbing her clit as we kiss. When she starts making those soft noises, I slip one finger inside her and then another to make sure she’s ready.

And then I remember I don’t have a condom with me.

Again.

Motherpucking fail.

CHAPTER TWENTY

LOG RIDE

I keep moving my fingers and kissing her, trying to come up with a way to make this work. I wa

But I can pull out.

Maybe.

No.

I shouldn’t.

Pulling out is a bad idea. That’s how people end up having fourteen kids and being all, “I don’t know how that happened!” Except Su

Su

“Miller.” Su

“That feel good, baby?”

“Mm-hmm.” She winds her other arm around my neck and bites along my jaw. It’s covered in scruffy, unkempt beard, so I can barely feel her teeth. “I want you in me.”

This is one of the things about Su