Page 32 of Savage in the Sheets
I’ve probably five bananas in twenty-four hours.
You got this,I coach myself as I start back in.
This time, I’m not as mechanical, falling into a rhythm fairly quickly. Licking, sucking, pumping, eye contact maintaining. It all seems to be going great.
I hope he comes in my mouth and doesn’t want to do it on my tits or my face,I think to myself, though perhaps I’m being a little too ‘Rosie’ over it.
Lick, suck, little deeper, not even a nick! Rock on!
“Jenna, do you have the files for—”
Oh—fuck!
I bite off an ungodly amount of banana and look over at the door to see Elliot staring at me slack-jawed. Then I scan back to my computer at Mrs. Blowjob 2019, her voice moaning through my speakers.
Elliot’s cheeks flush pink. “I’m sorry for intruding.”
He rushes to close the door as I chew triple time, trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to explain what the fuck it is that I’m doing.
Tears stream down my face, and I contemplate moving to Canada, but I don’t think my degree would do me much good there.
I desperately try to think of a way through this when my phone vibrates.
Oh, God—Elliot texted me!
Elliot:Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s fine. Just lock the door. We’ve all been there. You don’t even want to know what I’ve stuck my dick in as a teenager.
Somehow, even though my face is still wet with tears, I laugh. Elliot’s a good guy, and I have no reason to believe he’s going to try to embarrass or hurt me.
Still, I feel like I owe him some type of explanation.
Jenna:I have a special night tonight, and I was just getting some practice in.
Elliot:lucky guy
Jenna:I’m not so sure about that. You haven’t seen the butchered bananas that came before…
Elliot:Ouch! But seriously, the fact that you’re trying speaks to who you are. Whatever it is you’re going for, you’ll knock it out of the park, like you do everything else.
Jenna:thanx
Weston
Knock on the door. Greet her with a smile. Don’t look overeager—let her initiate. Make sure she’s comfortable. Give her the ability to back out. Make sure she wants this.
I’m already hard at the thought of what’s about to happen. That is, if I can gather the courage to knock on the damn door.
She wants this too. Don’t get lost in feelings. Give good criticism—gently criticism. She’s a perfectionist.
Inhaling and exhaling a breath, I smooth the wrinkles from my shirt one last time and finally knock on the door.
It opens in a heartbeat, and I’m treated to the sight of Jenna in a beautifully tailored, canary yellow thigh-length dress.
The dress hugs her curves, pushing her breasts together and showcasing her hourglass figure, flaring freely out at her waist. While it may look understated, it’s perfect for Jenna, displaying her best attributes without looking flashy.
She’s so lovely; I lose my words.
“I’m ready! I mean, come in! I was just-I was just…” Strands of wild red hair fall forward, making her lose her train of thought.
