Page 54 of Scoring the Player
I feather kisses along his ankle bone as my hand wraps around his foot to remove his sock. My thumb barely begins massaging the arch when he lets out a soft moan.
Found a spot.
I deepen the massage. When I envelop his toes in the heat of my mouth, his eyes roll closed, and he clasps the sheet.
My free hand reaches in to massage his heavy balls.
“So close,” he rasps.
I settle between his legs, my hand anchoring his hips in place as my tongue swipes up his taint.
“Ngh,” he groans, jerking from the touch.
The tip of my tongue licks across his balls before rolling one into my mouth. His dick twitches up before slapping back against his stomach.
I reach up and massage his nipples. Thighs trembling, he gasps choppy breaths.
I work his other ball into my mouth.
“Please,” he begs.
I grin as I take hold of the base of his dick.
Knew we’d get there.
As soon as my mouth wraps around the head, his hips jerk off the bed, trying to fuck my mouth. My tongue slowly circleshis slit before lapping up his pre-cum. I release my grip on his base, rub two fingers over his slit, then feed him his pre-cum. The second I suck him again, deeper this time, rubbing his tip against the inside of my cheek and tongue, he convulses, moaning around my fingers.
I take his dick to the back of my throat as the first pump of cum shoots into my mouth. Licking his base, my throat fills with him. I drink until his legs go limp, and his hips crash onto the mattress.
I crawl up his body and replace my fingers, which he’s absently suckling, with my tongue. Rolling us to our sides, relishing the feel of his high, muscular ass against my erection, we kiss, messily and unhurriedly.
Arnaz
Why do I taste so good on his tongue?
I shiver as he massages my nipple while his erection burrows between my ass cheeks.
I want to taste him again.
The hunger burns up from my belly.
I never cuddle after sex, but I’m too boneless in his arms to move.
He pulls back and dips lower, then licks a stripe across my neck before his teeth latch onto the skin.
He moans as I rut against him.
“Blue,” he warns.
I reach back and press him closer to me.
“Christ,” he moans, his forehead resting on the back of my neck as he thrusts over my rim.
He sucks on the skin at the base of my neck. The sting, his warm gasps, the heat from the friction, all have me reaching down to stroke myself.
His thrusts slow, losing rhythm. “How did this happen?”
My eyes shoot open as his fingers glide over the mangled skin on my back.
