He is sitting on the bed, his legs spread. I am naked, kneeling on an overstuffed cushion, with the tip of his cock in my mouth. He says if I’m a good girl I’ll be able to keep his cock in my mouth without sucking…but if I’m a slut, I’ll have to suck. I won’t be able to stop myself.
I kneel, and breathe, my palms on his thighs. The dichotomy of it is perfect- ask me to do something to prove what a good girl I am and I’ll try my very hardest, even if the thing I’m trying my hardest not to do is the thing I want to do the most. Behind us I can hear voices, laughter, and rapid rhythmic splashing from the hot tub. I shift on my cushion, trying to breathe deeply. It’s difficult not to move my mouth or tongue, not to lick away the pre- cum I can taste, so to distract myself I focus on the sensations of air entering my lungs, the twinges in my knees, his skin beneath my hands. This works for a little while but then almost despite myself I feel my tongue beginning to flicker, to explore the suggestion of his cock in my mouth.
What are you doing, little slut? he asks with a chuckle, and I still my tongue, shaking my head slightly, mumbling ‘nothing’ with a full mouth.
Nothing? he repeats. I mumble again, feigning indignance.
Well, there’s our answer, he laughs. He leans forward, reaches his hand around my head and places his palm firmly at the nape of my neck.
Suck, he orders.
Minutes later he pushes me off and stands, and we swap places. I bend over the bed and wait, my head turned to one side so my cheek rests against the smooth wipeclean surface. I hear the familiar snap of rubber, and then feel his hands, lifting my hips towards him.