Page 42 of Intoxicated
With hands on my hips, I shift my weight to one foot and suck in a cheek. “You’re ridiculous,” I say. “Of course I pay for it. With my own hard-earned cash.”
“Uh huh. Hard earned.” She glances at my abs, then my crotch, then out the window again. “Very hard.”
I better not be showing. Or growing, for that matter.
“If you’d like to use my shower, go ahead,” I say.
“I’m fine. I’ve got a shower in my own apartment.”
“Uh huh.”
“What?” Her head snaps around, hands linked around her knees. “You want me naked in your apartment? Say so. Come on, Drew, I thought we were done playing games. Come out with what you want.”
I half-expect her to snap the waistband of my sweatpants. Instead, she keeps her soft hands to herself. Hands I could be pinning above her head right now.
Twitch.Twitch.That’s my cock, by the way. Wondering why the ol’ Dirk Diggler isn’t playing an arousing game of Dig-Dug with her pussy.
“Oh, gee, whatdoI want? Or am I supposed to pretend to want what you want?”
“I haven’t told you what I want.”
“I know what you want. Some things aren’t so different between men, after all.” She sniffs. “You want me to suck your cock. Or to fuck me. Guess you could take your pick.”
“Honestly, either order would be wonderful. I wouldn’t say no to you sucking my cock right here until I haul you off to bed for some of the other stuff.”
“Uh huh.” Cher stretches one arm above her head. “What if I told you I’d much rather see you flex your skills in other ways?” That hand lowers. Whoops! There it is! Her fingers in my waistband! She takes a cursory glance at my hardening cock and pretends to be unimpressed. Except I saw that little glint in her eyes. She’s as hungry to gobble me up as I am to get reacquainted with her delicious depths. “We’ll start with that foul mouth of yours.”
Let’s not beat around the bush. Or shall we, since she said that’s what she wants?
This time when I pick her up, it’s not to throw her down and fuck her brains out. Oh, no, we must have more finesse today. She’s not wet with wild anticipation already. Somebody needs a little foreplay. The more I can play with her, the better, apparently.
All right. Play, we shall.
***
If there’s one thing Cher loves to do, it’s pretend she doesn’t really want it.
She’s the kind of lover that makes you need a safe word. Otherwise you’re constantly interrupting your fun because you feel like a jackass who doesn’t know how to respect a woman’s boundaries.Thenshe asks you,“Why the hell did you stop?”Gee, honey, maybe it’s because you asked me to stop? I can be a giant asshole, but an actual monster? Not as big of one as she might think.
If anything, I like to think I’m pretty fluffy for a monster!
Take this sweetness for example: imagine our intrepid princess with her skirt hitched up around her waist, her legs bent and spread around my happy head. Every other word out of her mouth is nothing but gibberish, because that’s how good I am with my tongue as it slides up and down her wet slit.
Her taste is one I can’t describe. Sounds like such a cop-out, I know, but there you are. I could compare her to other women I’ve tasted, but I’m told that’s not appealing. Yet how else do I describe it? She’s the sweetness of a young girl’s heart before it’s ever been broken. She’s the bitter bite of a woman scorned. The natural salt of her skin blends into the myriad of desires pouring forth from her body. I can’t take all the credit for arousing her, of course. My tongue may dance upon her clit and flick against her anxious hole, but her soul has completely gone somewhere else. Trust me. My eyes have been fixated on her face this whole time. Not because she graces me with eye contact. Oh,nooo.Cher is too busy squeezing her eyes shut and flinging her arm over her face. Is this because she’s ashamed to know who’s eating her out? Or maybe she’s fantasizing about someone other than me. Ouch. I can take that, I guess. She could be fantasizing about whatever heartthrob stole her heart when she was seventeen, butI’mthe one working my magic on the only thing that matters in this room.
Surprised? While I wish it shocked me how many men out there refuse to bestow attention upon the very thing we tend to crave most, I’m not. I mean, I know the kind of guys I hung out with as a kid and now as an adult. One of the easiest, fastest ways to a woman’s heart is to at leastofferto rub your face all over her pussy. Bonus points if you’re not a punk who can’t slam your tongue in there. Like, bros,reallyget in there. This is your chance to kiss every part of a woman’s body! I don’t care if she’s that asshole who stole your Camaro and flipped you the bird on her way to the chop shop. You get pussy in your face? You make some fucking love to that pussy.
Even with your mouth.
Say it with me now.
Even. With. Your. Mouth.
I mean, it’s fun! Especially if you’ve got a girl totally into it. Cher is on my bed gently humping my face as she rubs her nipples and whispers how much she fucking loves it. I don’t care if she thinks she’s a master string-puller getting exactly what she wants. I’m one happy dude when I’ve got a face full of you-know-what. Sure, there is the occasional lady who doesn’t like it as much as, say,Cher,but they’re always so tickled that you offered. Come on, men, step the fuck up and get laid! Don’t you want your ladies to be happy?
