Page 45 of A Murderous Crow
“So, what was so important you justhadto have me here?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“You didn’t do what I told you to do this morning,” I said casually, and her eyes lit up with a darker, almost salacious light when she caught on.
“Oh? And remind me, what was it I was supposed to do?”
I smiled as she played the gamewith methis time, but I couldn’t tell if she knew or was genuinely stumped over what transgression she may or may not have made, and so I clued her in.
“I told you to make yourself some breakfast at my place, and you didn’t,” I said as I reached out and cupped her fair cheek, running my thumb over her luscious bottom lip.
“The whole idea of fixing something for myself in your kitchen without you there wasweird,” she complained.
“I don’t care if it’s weird or not,” I gently scolded her. “I care that you were fed.”
I let her sit with that for a moment or three, and she swallowed hard, tried to hide behind her drink as she took several more sips.
“I don’t understand,” she said finally.
I cocked my head, and it struck me… “Are you not used to anyone insisting you take care of yourself?”
“I mean, not really,” she said. “I live alone.”
Interesting…
“Come on.” I touched her elbow and slid my hand to hers, grasping her fingertips. She slipped from her barstool. I stood from mine and guided her around the bar and back downstairs, taking the room beside the bathrooms. It had a couch, a side table, and not much else. It was a small room, with a single window overlooking the garage, the venetian blinds lowered.
I turned on the recessed overhead lights and dimmed them with the wall switch just inside the door. Satisfied that the blinds were shut tight, I closed and locked the door behind us, closing us in to the intimate space, which had, once upon a time, been an office.
“What do you want?” she asked, and a little apprehension filtered into her voice.
“You didn’t want to fill your mouth in my kitchen, so I figured it was only fair to fill your mouth with my cock as punishment.” I unzipped and pulled my aching boner out of my pants and underwear, taking a seat on the couch. I put my arms along the back of it and spread my knees enough for her to kneel between them if she chose that option, rather than climb onto the couch beside me to do it.
I didn’t care how she got it done, just that she did it.
Obediently, she took a step toward me and went to her knees on the thin office carpet between my feet.
Her hand was soft and her grip firm, just the way I liked, as she jacked me. When she went to suck me, it was like her inner vixen knew what to do and came out to play. I didn’t know, maybe it was the setting, or the fact we’d already fucked a few times. Maybe it was just that we were finally on the same page, but a sort of darkness filled her bright blue eyes, and she started by licking me, balls to tip, with the flat of her velvet tongue. And combined with that look?
Fuck me – yes, please!
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and let go of the stress of the day. Let go of the office politics and club politics, dropped the weight of my responsibilities, and homed in on the here and now. On the feel of her soft pink mouth enveloping my dick, of her lips snug around my shaft, at the barest teasing graze of her pearly whites, here and there, as she swallowed me practically whole.
She gagged and drew back quickly, and I opened one eye and checked on her. Her cheeks were stained red with embarrassment at her little slip-up, but she was a trouper and got herself back on track quickly.
It was a fight between watching her and closing my eyes and losing myself to the feel of her. I went back and forth between the two, my respirations deepening and picking up their pace as she worked magic with her mouth.
Fuck,I could get used to this. She was quickly becoming an addiction, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
What’s more, and what was more dangerous, was that I actually cared. I was genuinely miffed at her that she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning – and I was even more surprised to find I was miffed at myself for not staying to make sure she’d eat.
God, she worked magic on me with that mouth of hers, though – the pressure, the cadence of her bobbing blonde curls, the way she sucked and licked – Goddamn, I couldn’t get enough.
I held back her hair so I could watch her beautiful face, her eyes closed in concentration, an almost peaceful look upon her elf-like features, as she went down on me, carefully taking me past her gag reflex. Watching her almost did as much as the feel of me in her mouth. It was like time stopped, and we were outside of its constant march forward. If it’d been raining outside, we would have been able to step between drops suspended in the air.
I’d only had that sensation once or twice in my life – the whole time-stopping thing – and this, by far, was the most intense. I didn’t want her to stop. I didn’t want to rejoin the flow of time and be forced to go back to the grind of club and work life. I wanted it to stay stopped with my dick buried in her perfect mouth for as long as she’d have me, which by my body’s reckoning wouldn’t be much longer now.
I felt that familiar tingle at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight as I stood at that precipice, tipping forward, suspended for entirely too long on that moment before taking the plunge off the cliff into the crystalline warm waters of satisfaction.
I warned her, barely in time, “I’m gonna come!” She just redoubled her efforts, quickening her pace, and taking me to the back of her throat, swallowing everything I had to give her expertly.
