Page 66 of The Producer: Aaron

He squeezes me in a hug, then, with a sudden gesture, takes me in his arms, making me squeak in surprise.

“Aaron!” I laugh as he walks through the living room and climbs the stairs. “Have you gone crazy?”

“Now I can finally give you your birthday present.” His smile is a call to the lust that makes me melt to the tips of my toes. “It’s been all day that I dreamed of worshiping your perfect body and making you come until you beg me to stop.”

“What if I’m never tired of coming?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Is that a challenge?” he asks while, with a kick, he opens the door of the master bedroom and throws me on the bed, making me laugh.

“Are you able to keep up? Because you know, given your age…” I tease, enjoying as his gaze catches fire.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders in a firm tone, and my whole body reacts to his voice.

It’s incredible how his commanding tone alone can ignite every single cell and send shivers of pleasure down my body. I never thought such a thing could turn me on, I always felt uncomfortable in front of people who imposed their will on me, but this is different. The way Aaron worships my body and brain makes me trust him, turning this moment into something exciting.

I grab the zipper on the side of my dress and slide it slowly off while I enjoy Aaron’s gaze following my every little movement. It almost makes me breathless to see him lose control over his body, with his erection waking up and straining against his pants. I drop the dress at the foot of the bed and enjoy his eyes burning for me.

“Naked.” His tone is so low that it sounds more like a growl than an order, and as I take off my bra, I surrender to his will.

Aaron knows what I like, he guides me to discover my pleasure, and I let myself be carried away by his voice, his gaze, and the anticipation of feeling his hands on my body. When I pull off my panties, I don’t feel naked or vulnerable but the most beautiful woman that ever walked on earth. Aaron is the one who makes me feel this way, who makes me love every part of myself as if it were perfect. Even my battered feet or my ears sticking out a bit or my slightly cracked teeth in the front seem unique andinimitable to his eyes.

I watch him slowly undress as he lets me admire his sculpted body and worship his erection. That dark trail of hair that descends from his navel to the base of his cock is a path I have walked many times with my imagination but to which I have never done justice. Reality is more perfect than I can imagine.

I look at him as he slowly crawls onto the bed, lies on top of it, and looks at me with a half-smile on his lips.

“Sit on my face,” he orders, and I freeze, watching him as if he had told me to get out of this room dancing the tango.

“What?” I whisper uncertainly, sure I didn’t understand correctly what he said.

His smile widens, and he reaches out his hand, grabbing mine.

“Put your hands against the wall, straddle my head, and sit on my face,” he repeats.

I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I’ve experienced so many first times with Aaron, but this is something that makes me shy.

“I’ll guide you,” he whispers with a sweet look when he sees me hesitating.

I do as he tells me, and I bite my lip with shame because of the intimate and exposed position. Can there be something too intimate in the requests of a man in the bedroom?

“You are perfect,” he whispers, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Eyes on me,” he orders, and when I look down, I see all his lust as he grabs my hips and drags me toward his mouth, taking me by surprise.

“When I tell you to sit on my face, I mean sit on my face,” heorders before sinking into me with his tongue.

My whole world turns upside down when, with the same vigor as a hungry man, he devours my innermost part, licking, sucking, biting. His eyes never leave mine as he sticks his tongue deep into my folds, alternating small bites on the bundle of nerves at the apex of my opening that sends shocks of pleasure down my spine.

I watch him the entire time while his hands anchor my hips and guide my movements, seeking my pleasure riding his face, and I don’t miss for a moment the satisfied smile in his eyes as he sucks until I explode in an orgasm that makes my legs tremble.

With one hand, he grabs my hair behind the nape of my neck and drags me to him for a kiss that takes away what little breath I have left. I savor myself on his lips, on his tongue, in a dirty, greedy kiss, full of a desire that has not dissipated with my orgasm.

I move far enough back to observe his perfect body lying next to me, his tan, those sculpted abs that descend to the taut erection, and the small drop of pre-cum inviting me to dive with my lips on his cock. I slip between his legs and watch him hold his breath while I savor with my tongue that salty drop, and I envelop his warm erection with my lips.

“Dakota.” My name escapes from his lips in a moan while his hand sinks into my hair and guides me as I slide him down my throat.

It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before, the one of having a man in the palm of my hand. I watch him close his eyes and bite his lips. He is tense and holding back, thrusting his hips with powerful blows I’m familiar with.

Deciding to reciprocate my orgasm with the same fervor, I grasp with one hand the base of his erection and squeeze,accompanying the movement of my lips with those of my hand. The roar that comes out of his lips is animalistic. I’m soaked between my legs when he lays his eyes on mine, and I read the desire to take me and make me his own. I squeeze my lips to his flesh and savor its length from the base to the tip with my tongue. I suck, lick, and taste the silky warm skin while, with the other hand, I slip between his legs, gently squeezing his testicles until he groans.

---