Page 73 of Lucky Shot
Can I tell you how horny I am right now? Or is that too inappropriate?
If it’s inappropriate, just pretend I didn’t say anything.
I chuckle and drop my hand to my cock. When’s the last time I’ve been hard in response to someone else? The random urge here and there are usually all on my own. Just because. But fueled by another person? Because of them?! I’m not even sure when.
Me
So am I.
Pretty Boy
Can we extend this game? Tell me what you’d do to me now that your doll is on your bed.
I groan and close my eyes, picturing exactly what I would do. Somehow—and I’m not sure it ends up in coherent sentences—I tell him just what I’d do to him.
With shaking fingers and a leaking dick.
Me
After admiring you for far too long, I’ll crawl up the bed. Run my fingers along your legs to feel them under those sexy stockings. My touch is light. Just a whisper. I don’t want to disturb my pretty doll. Not yet.
But I can’t help it. I need to touch you. You have no idea what you do to me. I can’t even begin to explain it. Not right now, anyway. I’ve been dying to touch you. So I do.
Dragging my fingers softly up your thighs so they get tangled in the skirt of your dress, I straddle your legs, leaving myself enough room between our bodies. Now I can use both hands to touch you. To feel the way the silky material moves against your skin. To trace the outline of the hard planes of your stomach. Your chest. Over your broad shoulders and down your thick arms.
I touch my mouth to yours. You don’t respond because you’re a doll. ;)
I lace my fingers with yours as I slowly kiss you, encouraging you to kiss me in return. My tongue coaxes yours into a dance as I persuade a moan out of you. I can feel you growing harder—especially when I let my hand drop to your lap—but you’re such a good boy, my perfect pretty doll, that you don’t move except to kiss me.
I trace the chain around your neck, bringing my mouth down to kiss your tender skin. Your head falls back, giving me more access. Your dick grows harder, shifting the skirt of your dress against my hand. Reaching out to touch me.
Slowly, I move down your body, kissing along your exposed skin. Feeling your hard body under the movement of the material is so sexy. Such a turn on. You are perfect with how you sit still and let me touch you.
Gripping your hips with my hands, I pull you forward so that you’re laying against the pillows at an angle. Exposing your satin wrapped stomach. Letting me see how much you enjoy my hands on you with the way your lace sheathed dick creates a tent under your dress. Straining to come out.
I’m dying to taste it.
While I want to take my time, I shimmy down the bed until I can bury my face between your legs. Against your fat dick. You groan. Your body twitches. Your fingers grip the blanket. Otherwise, you remain my perfect doll.
I nuzzle my face against your cock. Through the skirt and panties, rubbing your hard length all over my face. I nip at you through the layers, feeling you twitch under me again. Moving my hands up your sexy thighs, I take your skirt with them. Revealing the way your imprisoned cock strains toward me. Leaking. Making a mess of the delicate lace.
I kiss the head of your dick. It flexes against my mouth, as if it has a mind of its own. The sound you make in the back of your throat makes my nerve endings sing. I flick my tongue out, tasting the salty seed you’re leaking. I lick my lips and turn my eyes up to yours.
You look at me with such heat that I feel it sear me. But you don’t move. You wait.
I’m not sure if I’m taking pity on you or whether my own resolve has reached its limit, but I take the lace-covered head of your dick between my lips and flick my tongue against it. Your entire body shudders, so I do it again. And again.
I’m at the end of my patience by this time and for no other reason than I need to feel you in my mouth. To taste your skin and feel the weight of your perfect dick on my tongue. So I push your legs apart and carefully pull your dick out from its lace prison. I groan as I examine it. The veins. The thick cord down the underside. Your heavy balls are still partially trapped, probably uncomfortably.
As I try to gently wrestle them out, I run my tongue from your root to your tip. I can hear your breathing now. It’s heavy. Labored. Your chest heaves with the effort. While my eyes are cast up to yours, I lick the head of your dick. You hiss in the most sexy, desperate way.
Part of me wants to hear you beg for my mouth on you. For me to touch you again. Beg for an orgasm. But you’re such a good doll that you remain as quiet and still as you possibly can. I’m so proud, so impressed, and so fucking hungry for you, that I put us both out of our misery and take your gorgeous cock into my mouth.
I love the way it fills me. How I can bring your cockhead to the back of my throat and listen to you whimper. Feel your legs twitch, your balls draw up in my hand. I press the flat of my tongue against your cock before tracing those sexy veins with the tip.
I’m not a fast lover, so I take my time. Learning your dick, sucking, licking, and tasting it. Listening to every sound you make telling me what you like best. Swallowing every generous drop of pre-cum that you coat my tongue with.
When I finally suck you for real, you’re shaking with the effort not to move. I can feel the way your muscles tense. The hard strain under my hands is such a fucking turn on that I grind my hips against the bed to give my dick some friction.
