I love watching her eyes light up at knowing I’m hard and waiting for her without much if any foreplay. Shit, she could blow a cold breeze my way and I’d be ready for her. Even better than the look in her eyes is watching her have to make the conscious decision to tear her eyes from mine and look down at what’s waiting for her.
And call it male ego, call it machismo, I don’t give a fuck, but it’s such a turn-on watching her eyes widen and her tongue dart out and lick her bottom lip when she looks down. Every part of my body feels like it is standing at attention, waiting for the next touch, her mouth to take me in, the enticing visual of watching her suck me off.
Her eyes dart up to meet mine one more time as she lowers her head and puts my dick in her mouth. And it’s not like she teases me, puts the tip in and licks her tongue around the head to taunt me with promises of what’s to come next. Hell no. She lowers her mouth onto my cock and keeps going all the way until I hit the back of her throat.
“Goddamn,” I moan brokenly.
The sensation is so damn overwhelming that I want to close my eyes and savor it and at the same time don’t want to miss the sight of her working me in and out between her lips. One hand cups my balls, fingernails teasing the sensitive skin there while the other wraps around the base of my cock, following her mouth up and down with an added pressure that drives me fucking insane. She takes me all the way to the back of her throat again so that I can feel the vibration of the moan she emits against my dick. Her green eyes flutter up to meet mine as she holds still there.
And the sight of her cheeks hollowed and lips stretched around me, stuns me motionless. Something passes between us. Something more than just the desire coursing through us or the act we’re engaging in. And it’s fleeting, but it’s unmistakable.
The mix of sensations, tight grip followed by soft lips, her quiet moans of desire mixed with my harsh grunts of pleasure, my hand fisted tightly in her wet hair, and the endless pleasure of going deeper and deeper in her mouth catapults me to the edge of reason so damn fast that I’m holding her head still and bucking my hips in natural reflex.
I come fast and hard; my pants are harsh, my heart is lost, all sensibility thrown out the damn window as the grenade of sensation explodes within me, streaking up and back down in a fiery flash of everything and nothing all at once.
And she’s so fucking incredible as she rides out my orgasm, her mouth sucking me dry, her fingers becoming more gentle as my muscles contract and my dick becomes hypersensitive. My muscles start to relax, and she must sense it because the vibration of her chuckle around my cock still in her mouth is like a little aftershock of sensation that breaks through the fog of my climax.
She pulls back and just looks at me with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “How are we going to explain that one to Rafe, huh? That’s all you, my wordy friend.”
It takes me a minute to get my wits about me, my mind still reeling from the unexpected but completely welcome blow job at the hands of BJ Croslyn. The irony.
“Up to me?” My voice sounds drugged and drowsy, and fuck if I’m going to apologize for it. “I seem to think you have journalist in your title too.”
Her laugh is low and seductive as I reach out and pull her back up to sit astride me, my hands working on undoing the knot of her robe, needing to feel her skin on skin. “Oh but you forget, I report with pictures, so I don’t quite think we’re going to document what exactly just happened.”
“Mmm, probably not.” I look up to her, our positions allowing her face to hover slightly above mine so I can see her eyes widen as I slide my hands inside her robe, my rough palms against the smooth skin of the undersides of her breasts. “But I might want to document a few things myself with your equipment of what’s going to happen next.”