Page 216 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Use my hand. Could I have my mouth on your balls? There’s no risk to that, is there, sir?”
She just keeps pushing. Amy would have obeyed without any argument. I thought I missed that, but Brenna’s flashes of defiance are turning me on like nothing I can remember.
“Balls only. No further forward, or back, this time.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, before she winks. “Maybe next time with that dental dam?”
I squeeze her neck. “Ass-to-mouth’s a hard limit for you, no?”
“Not with a dental dam, sir. No one’s used one on me before or offered to let me use one. I really liked that.”
I stroke my free hand down her cheek. “Good. Let’s move to the bed if you’re going to use that smart mouth on my balls.”
“Yes, sir.” She climbs to her feet without taking her hand off my cock. I wrap my hand around hers to keep her from yanking my junk, but she moves smoothly. I step out of my pants and guide her the few steps back to the bed with my hand on her nape, then lower her onto her back and move over her, a positionshe didn’t anticipate by the flaring of her eyes but likes from their dilation.
I settle over her head, grabbing a towel from the bedside table and spreading it in front of me as a landing zone. She scoots down a little and I spread my knees, so she doesn’t have to strain to reach my balls. “Get to it, girl,” I order, but there’s a smile in my voice and she answers it with her own before tipping her face up to lip at my balls.
She’s good, this experienced girl. Stroking me slow to start, getting me used to the warm, wet pressure on my balls, before she increases her pace and suction. Her tongue stud adds an unexpected edge, and I can’t wait to feel it on my cock. My eyes cross when she jerks up hard with her hand and sucks down firmly with her mouth. I grab the headboard to brace myself and even then nearly collapse onto her face when she squeezes my base while rolling my balls in her mouth. I find myself chanting “fuck, yes, fuck, yes” as she jacks me and feel her amusement vibrating through my balls. She brings me to the edge and holds me there for long moments, sucking my balls down so I can’t quite go over, while I pant and curse. I let her have this moment of control and she relishes it, teasing me until I’m groaning, gritting my teeth against the command to finish me, unwilling to end this delicious torment.
She eases the suction on my balls just as she reaches up and presses two long fingers against my taint. I roar as the unexpected pressure shoots straight through me and out of my cock in a burning rush. She keeps working me, stroke after stroke, hot squeeze after hot squeeze, until my balls are finally spent, and I start to go soft in her fist. She gives my balls a sweet kiss and pats my ass, which I take as a hint to get my junk out of her face.
I collapse slowly onto my side, laughter bubbling up out of my chest. “Now that’s my idea of a hand job.”
She smiles up at the ceiling, then rolls to face me and puts a hand on my hip. “Was that okay, sir?”
This bold, bold girl still needs reassurance. I cup her cheek and rub my thumb across her flushed lower lip. “Much better than okay. I definitely want a repeat of that on Friday. I think that might be my new favorite form of aftercare.”
She grins.
“Now, sweetheart, it’s still early, even for us geezers. Can I interest you in another orgasm before we sleep?”
“Gee, sir, that’s a lot of stamina for a geezer.”
I sit up and smack her ass before rolling her onto her back and diving between her legs.
five
BRENNA
Sleepingwith my Dom should be great, right? The bed’s comfortable. Mac gave me another knee-trembling orgasm before we called it a night. He’s warm and cuddly at my back as he spoons me. I should have the best sleep of my life.
Instead, I wake up every hour and spend long minutes staring at the ceiling.
It’s not my bed, not my bedroom, not even my part of the city. The sounds, sights, and smells are all wrong. I’m used to sleeping alone. Mac doesn’t steal covers, doesn’t snore, and doesn’t talk in his sleep, at least not while I’m listening, but he does move around, rolling onto his back, and then cuddling back up and throwing his sweaty, heavy leg over mine. How am I supposed to sleep like this?
The umpteenth time I wake, with his arm across my waist, I realize the two beers I drank after the scene have gone straight to my bladder. I wait, finding little cracks in the ceiling to stare at. Mac jokes about his age, but older guys having to pee all night is a thing, right? Surely, he’ll wake soon, and we can do a relay race to the bathroom? I should have asked if the scene was overbefore we went to sleep. He took the butt plug out before he tucked me under the covers, but he didn’t say the scene was over. Now I’m not sure if I need permission to go to the bathroom or what.
Finally, I have to squirm free, because Loganreallywouldn’t like me if I wet his guest bed.
When I get back from the bathroom, Mac’s rolled over. He doesn’t say anything when I slip back in behind him. I take that as a win and cuddle to his back, which is a better position for me since I’m off my bad hip and I can kick off the covers to keep myself cool. This time when I close my eyes, they stay closed.
Before the sun’s even up, Mac’s stirring. His movement wakes me, but I pretend to be asleep. I don’t have to be anywhere for hours and a pre-dawn reveille is not in my damn agenda for the day. If Mac gets up and does whatever crazy sailors do before dawn, maybe I can catch up on some lost sleep. Exhaustion and needles are not a good mix.
Mac climbs out of bed quietly, kisses me on the cheek, and tucks the covers around me, which is so sweet that I can’t help smiling in my “sleep.”
When Mac returns, he’s freshly showered and shaved and the sun’s up. I must have fallen back to sleep, but I don’t feel like it. That pinched feeling around my eyes is back and my muscles are full of lead. Mac’s annoyingly cheerful, snapping a wet towel at my ass where I’m hiding under the covers. I offer him a hand job, and feel a moment’s gratitude that my mouth and pussy are off-limits until Monday, because I’d have trouble mustering any enthusiasm for a blow job or sex right now, as lethargic as I am.
Mac tips his head to the side and looks closely at me. I flush with shame. He gave one of the better scenes I can remember, not to mention orgasm after orgasm, and the best I can do this morning is a half-hearted offer of a hand job because I’m overtired?
