“You can help me to get closure,” she whispers, stroking me slowly. A smile spreads across her face.
“Closure?” I manage to say, just about catching the drift of her conversation. I need to move her hand away, but ... I am unable to.
It feels so good.
“Let me vent my anger tonight. Let me get closure with you by doing to you what you did to me that night when you went down and ate me out. Shaun had never done that to me, not the way you did.” She presses her palm against me even more firmly, before moving her thumb over me, exploring, feeling, teasing. “Sometimes I can come just thinking about what you did. It's so vivid in my memory.”
I moan softly as her hand slips into my pants and she tugs down my boxer briefs. My cock springs up; hard, and purple-ish and veiny. It’s ugly, sticking out like a great big appendage that looks odd.
Her eyes widen. “My God, you're so beautiful.” Her lips part and she looks ravenous. “Now I want you to come, like I did. I want you to remember me, like I have you.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she's starts to work her magic, sliding her thumb over my silky tip. I squirm. This is killing me in the most pleasurable way. I’m having difficulty keeping myself composed. She bends down she licks the tip gently before swallowing it whole.
I'm in danger of coming right now. Of exploding all over. She grips the base, her soft, warm fingers sliding up and down my shaft.
“Megan ... no.” My voice is a feeble protest. Weak and pathetic.
“Don’t fight it, Mr. Turner.”
I hate that she keeps calling me Mr. Turner. We're equals now.
“I want to suck you off and make you come hard.” She licks her lower lip suggestively, grasping my shaft as her lips work all over it. She holds me prisoner but it is the best way to be held captive.
I can’t answer her, not in words. I grunt when she swallows more inches of me. After a while she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes shiny. Her lips are wet and swollen. “I want to have that power over you like you did over me.”
“It was hardly like that,” I say, biting out each word. My self-control is in danger of erupting.
“The way you worked your tongue and fingers, you left me spent. Utterly wasted, helpless and undone.” She makes it sound as if I seduced her.
I remember it differently.
“You teased me, Megan.” I recall how I walked into her room to give her a set of clean and dry clothes. But she slid down her panties and I couldn’t look away. She was already topless. What was I supposed to do?
I couldn't help myself. I tried not to do anything, but she moved toward me. She took the pile of clothes and dropped them onto the chair, and then she took my hand and cupped her breast with it.
She slides her finger over my silky tip again, making me shudder. “I need to feel something, Lance. Only you can make me forget the bad things.”
“I find it hard to believe that you don’t have anyone.”
“Ditto.”
She sucks me again, and I wrestle with guilt and appreciation. Now is not the time to tell her the truth—not while she's sucking my cock with such vigor—but I will. Soon.
“Preston wanted me to go for celebratory drinks with him,” she says, moving her mouth off me, giving me a little respite. She slides her fingers up and down the length of my shaft.
“You should have ...” Its difficult to form a sentence as her thumb grazes my penis.
Jesus Christ.This feelssogood. It's been so long since I was intimate with anyone. Megan, here doing this is like a fantasy come true. I’m ashamed to say it's what I've been thinking of ever since we met.
“Do you know what he said to me? He said at least now I would be under him. Can you believe that? He’s such a creep.”
It makes things even worse because now I wonder what it's like to have her under me. “He said that to you?” Why is she telling me this? Why now when she's grasping my shaft and her mouth is inches from it?
“Why do you men say such things?” she asks.
“He's an asshole.”
“Yes, he is.” Her eyes meet mine. “Do you ever think of me underneath you, Mr. Turner?” She strokes me harder and faster, and I'm certain my cock is about to explode.