As I watched Cinnamon Buns get to her knees on the floor in front of me, my dick sprang up like one of those inflatable Bozo the clown bop bags I had as a kid. I’d push it down and it would pop right back up again, ready to go.
Not that there is anything funny about my dick, of course. It is very serious. Let me rephrase.
My dick stood tall like a proud soldier ready for duty, weapons locked and loaded.
Much better.
I had a feeling before she even got started that this was going to be a blowjob of epic intensity, and I was right. Now, partly it was because of our great chemistry, and partly it was because she’s just magic, but here are five things I can’t stop thinking about today, things that you can do tonight to create a little magic of your own for your guy—just make sure he deserves it.
1) Take Control…Then Give it Up. Cinnamon Buns pushed me into the bedroom, shoved me down on the bed, and bossed me into a blowjob like it was for her, not me. She came at me like it was her birthday and all she wanted was a great big piece of birthday cock, and I was gonna give it to her or else. But she knows I like submissiveness too, and when I took charge, she let me.
2) Look Up. One of the reasons guys love blowjobs is it’s fun to watch. We are visual creatures, and your mouth on his dick is the best movie he’s ever seen. It’s his favorite, in fact, and he can’t watch it enough times. And when you, the beautiful star, look up and make eye contact with him, he feels like a million fucking dollars. Sometimes Cinnamon Buns looked up at me with this innocence in her eyes, as though she couldn’t believe how big I was, how hard I was, how deep I was. Other times, the look in her eye was pure salacious delight, and she’d moan or laugh or sigh, like the pleasure was all hers.
3) Use Your Hands on Him. Yes, it’s mostly about his dick, and no man will complain if that’s all you want to focus on. But while you are merrily sucking him into oblivion, don’t be shy about touching him other places. Balls. Nipples. Ass. (Cinnamon Buns was not shy.) If he doesn’t like it, he’ll let you know, but I’m gonna venture a guess he does.
4) Use Your Hands On Yourself Too. At one point, Cinnamon Buns got so turned on by what she was doing, that she touched her body the way I would have if I hadn’t been so paralyzed with joy by the sight of her doing it. In fact, I nearly fired the canon before I could properly warn her, which a gentleman should never do. (Are you listening, gentlemen?)
5) Swallow. You don’t have to pretend it’s the nectar of the gods, but it sure makes us feel good when you do. I don’t actually recall the expression on Cinnamon Buns’s face when she swallowed because I was too blinded by rapture, but when I recovered the use of my eyes, she looked delighted. Sated. Pleased with herself and with me.
I was pleased as well.
And I showed her by returning the favor before she even caught her breath.
Sound good?
You know what to do.
(Guys? That goes for you too.)
Oh my God.
I finished the article and read it again three more times. My mind whirled, my heart beat crazily, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Not only because the me he’d described was so hot and alluring or because he was so cute and funny or because his words brought back the memory of last night in breath-stealing detail, but because of three little words he’d said about me…
She’s just magic.
I wasn’t magic, but we were.
I felt it too.
Why was she so quiet? Did she hate it? As she read, I kept trying to get a glimpse of her expression, read her body language, but she was sort of turned toward the window. She gasped once or twice and brought one hand slowly to her mouth, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she was shocked, embarrassed, or touched. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have written about her. Natalie wasn’t show-offish like other women, who sometimes begged me to write about them. A lot of them even asked me to use their real names too, which I never did. Not only for their protection, but also because real names suggested a level of intimacy I wasn’t comfortable with.
“Hey,” I said, tapping her head. “What’s going on up there? Do you hate it?”
“No, I love it!” she said, turning toward me with bright eyes. “Are you kidding? Thank you for saying all those things. Really, it was the best blow job you’ve ever had? The Stanley Cup of blowjobs?”
“Definitely.” I nodded, relieved she wasn’t angry. “You’re the top. And I’ve had a lot of blowjobs, I mean seriously a lot, and by some really hot women. I remember this one girl who—”
“OK, OK. Enough.” She held up her hand. “I get it. Thank you. I’m flattered, and you should stop talking now.”
I grinned at her. God, I was even starting to adore the frowny face. “Sorry. Anyway, she was nothing compared to you. That was my point.”