Page 35 of Savage in the Sheets
“Let me help you,” I offer, sliding my pants and boxers off, then taking off my shirt.
Her mouth hangs ajar as she stares at my engorged member.
“I don’t think that’s going to fit in my mouth.” The words tumble out of her as though there were no forethought, and I have to chuckle.
“It’s fine. We’re not going to worry about that. We’re just going to have fun.”
I sit back down on the bed beside her. “Now, take me into your hand.”
Feeling her hand wrap around the base of my cock sends a surge of excitement through me. I can barely concentrate enough to give her instructions…though, at this point, she desperately needs them. It’s suddenly clear why Ashton Penrose likened her to Rosie Jetson, as it’s the most mechanical, awkward handjob I’ve ever received.
She senses my trepidation and withdraws. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, Savage, but we’re going to work on this together. Alright?”
“Okay…”
I bring her hand up to her mouth. “Spit.”
She dons a distasteful look but follows my orders and spits into her palm, then I bring her hand back to the base of my cock, wrapping it around the shaft.
The sensation of her working her warm, wet hand up and down my cock is sheer ecstasy, and after I establish rhythm and pressure, I let her continue on her own.
And fuck—it feels so good. It would be so easy to lose myself.
“That’s it.” My voice comes out thick and strained.
I allow myself a moment of appreciation before placing my hand on her thigh, parting her legs roughly as I slide my hand up her smooth flesh.
When my fingers brush against her wet panties, her hand stops, and she elicits a guttural groan that makes my blood pump fast and hard.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp, using my free hand to encourage her along my shaft.
I peel her panties from her naked flesh, and it takes every ounce of mental energy not to come on the spot. I run a finger along her slit, and this time when her hand pauses, I don’t correct her.
Instead, I go to my knees, pressing her thighs apart.
But they grow rigid.
“I don’t see how that’s supposed to help me get better,” she says, and it’s obvious that she’s scared.
I think this is her first time, and although it veers from the curriculum, I desperately want it so badly, I do mental gymnastics to explain away the ‘side quest.’
“You need to learn how to lose control, Rosie. Men love to please women like this, but if you’re uptight, they won’t even try.”
She bites her lip, deep in thought.
“Haven’t you ever wanted it before?”
Her head nods slowly, and a wave of relief washes over me.
“We’ll go slower,” I reply.
She gazes at me with lust and apprehension, wanting to let go, but clinging to fear. I smile to reassure her as I reach behind her back and unzip her dress. She helps me slip it off, and I’m treated to my first glimpse of her near-naked body.
Graceful neck, defined collarbone, decadent breasts, trim waist, and flaring hips that I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of.
Yes, please!
