Page 11 of Marked By Feral Monsters
I want to please him. I want him to feel better than he's ever felt. Memories of Danny's bare ass pounding into his best friend filter into my mind. I was never Danny's best. But I will be this stranger's, dammit. I can give an excellent blowjob. My determination makes my hand grip tighter. I let my fingers graze over the shape, feeling every vein, testing out the slip of his foreskin while I work him over.
I add a second hand, squeezing the base, gripping with both fists and pumping root to tip, twisting my hands as I work my way up his length. I really want to do a good job, so Iconcentrate, watching for every knee shake. He lifts his foot, the rough material of his jeans grazing my cheek, before he slams it down into the stirrup, making me jump, excited and scared all wrapped up in one horny mess. I squeeze again and keep pumping, stroking him like I'm pulling him toward me.
I can't help but notice that in the other two open cages, the men are fidgeting in their seats. My cheeks heat, fire igniting inside me, trailing all the way through my body, making my lower abdomen tighten. The cages rattle and their hips lift, as much as the seat will allow, like they're fucking thin air.
I concentrate back on the wolf in front of me. This magnificent beast could crush me, but he's putty in my hands. He's enjoying this, I just know it. I can do this. I'm going to give him the best fucking blowjob on the planet.
Pearlescent pre-cum still spills from his slit, and on instinct, I lean forward and lick the tip. His knee buckles again, nearly compressing my head between his powerful thighs.
My own hips work the empty air. This stupid work uniform with my short skirt does nothing to hide the wetness now dripping out of me, soaking the thin cotton material of my underwear. I'm grateful I'm alone in this little room.
I can't wait any longer; my mouth is literally salivating. I open my mouth and feed his long, thick cock past my lips, swallowing him down. Then, I shimmy my hand between his legs and fondle his heavy sac, earning me another foot slam.
My head is spinning. I feel weightless. How can I feel this excited sucking off a complete stranger? Is this normal? Is this what Keely and Braden feel every time someone invites them into a room? Like you're the center of someone's world, for however brief a time?
I swallow this werewolf down like he's my long-lost lover, like I need to taste him, like making him come is my life's work. I bob my head, hollow my cheeks and suck. Holding the base ofhis cock with both fists, I twist and pump furiously in time with my mouth, working him inside me. He thrusts, trembling in my grasp.
He's pumping his hips faster, and I'm so fucking wet and turned on, all I want is to climb on and shove this strange, beautiful cock inside me.
Fuck. Maybe I'm not cut out for this work, because dammit, I want this man. This one right here.
Finally, by some miracle, I remember I'm actually working, and he seems close to coming.
I could grab the small tray on the table with containers to collect his cum, but I want every drop. Remembering the pamphlet, I grip the knot at the base of his shaft and wrap my fist tight, squeezing it like he was locking himself inside me. His hips buck like a wild man, and if it weren't for the bar and table locking him in place, I'd struggle to hold him down.
I feel his orgasm as if it were my own. My body is hot, cheeks red, jaw sore, throat raw, and I'm aching so bad with need. I wish he were mine. I wish we were alone. Or in a private room upstairs.
Maybe he'll request me.
That thought—that he might be as into this as I am—has me holding tighter.
Thick streams of cum shoot down my throat, and I keep squeezing his knot and sucking, pumping with the other hand, swallowing him down. A frenzy of helpless, needy lust claws out of me. His warm cum slows to a drip, and a tear leaks from my eye.
And then he softens—barely—and I release. His knees are still shaking.
I feel like I just came, too.
I stare for a moment, watching his dick twitch, my jaw aching from the blowjob and the giant grin painting my face.
And then the rest of the room comes into view, and embarrassment washes over me.
My shaky hands reach out, and I snag the water bottle, and I guzzle the entire thing. The air is cool, making goosebumps break out over my arms and legs.
I take a step back and look around at the rest of the cages. I still have one green light. No one else has requested service.
I look back at the man I just took care of.
I've seen the look on monsters' faces, up above on the main floor. After they come, everyone at the table immediately joins in. Someone always needs to break the ice. I wait a minute, but no other screen beside the cages indicates a green light. The other three cubbies are still red, two are closed completely.
Two more exposed bodies, and only one green light.
Minutes pass. No one else requests service.
Did… did he not enjoy it?
This little private room in the lower deck, beneath table four, is quiet. The legs I can see are fidgety. The starkness of the room shatters the illusion. This is a job. I'm a professional.
He climaxed, I remind myself. Then again, he comes to the pleasure house often. Maybe it was mediocre. MaybeIwas mediocre. It's not like it's hard to climax when there's a mouth on you.
