They’d been right—I really did need professional help.
Mel had the towel completely open now, although she still held it loosely around her. She looked like a Harley pinup girl, all teasing curves and dripping water.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I managed to say, and I meant every word. “I have no idea how I’m lucky enough to be here with you right now, but please know you have my eternal appreciation.”
Christ, did I just grow a pussy?
I gave a quick glance to check, because the shit coming out of my mouth sounded like a fucking Hallmark card. Nope, that was definitely my cock down there, and he was saluting Mel’s towel-wrangling skills.
She gave that shy smile again, letting the towel fall slowly to the floor. I waited for her to turn around and come to me—I had plans for that cunt of hers, and while I was in a hurry, I was also fucked for time, too. Might as well take advantage of the moment.
Melanie didn’t turn around, though. Nope. Instead she dropped slowly to her knees, still facing away. I pushed up on my elbows to find her stretching her back and thrusting her ass out toward me. My brain short-circuited. Then she crawled slowly in a circle across the floor toward me. Like Catwoman, but totally naked and much, much hotter.
My knees were hanging off the side of the futon. She rose up, catching her tits and squeezing them together as she licked her lips.
I may have blacked out briefly.
If there was a God above, I was about to feel those boobs around my dick. Instead she leaned over and went after me with her mouth. I probably owed a lit candle in church or something, because I’d asked for a titty fuck and the man upstairs had raised me a blow job. The fervent Jesus fucking Christ I whispered probably didn’t cut it.
Then I lost the ability to think, because her lips were wrapped tight around my cock.
MELANIE
Painter seemed bigger during the daytime.
Going down on him was an impulse that came out of nowhere, but I’d never felt sexier—or more powerful—than I did the instant I first wrapped my lips around his hard length. He let out a moan that was half begging, half worship as I flicked the underside of his cock in what I hoped was an expert move. Based on the noises, I was doing just fine for a beginner. The one and only time Jess had convinced me to smoke pot, she’d ended up giving me a blow job lesson using a banana in London’s living room. She showed me how to lick a cock and suck it and even jack a guy off, but I got the munchies before we made it to deep-throating, so I’d eaten the banana.
Probably just as well, because that monster of Painter’s wouldn’t fit down my throat in a million years anyway.
I followed the flicking with a swirl of my tongue, running it around the ridge ringing his cockhead.
“Shit, Mel,” he murmured, reaching down to gather my hair in his hand. Turning my head to the side, I licked up and down his length, exploring the ridges and bumps of him with my fingers and tongue. Then I started working my way back up again, looking up to meet his gaze as I opened my mouth wide, wrapping my lips around him.
Salt.
That was my first impression. He tasted salty, but not in a nasty way. Tightening my mouth, I started bobbing my head up and down, taking care not to graze him with my teeth. He was too big to go far, so I used one hand to grasp him firmly, pumping in time with my head.
“That’s fuckin’ unreal,” he said, and the words were strained, as if it caused him physical pain to speak. I liked this, I decided. I liked the sense of control it gave me, because no matter how big and tough he was, in this instant Painter was all mine.
My nipples tightened at the thought, and the desire I’d felt for him in the tub came roaring back. I could touch myself, I realized. Give myself exactly what I wanted while I sucked him off. The thought felt dirty, which should’ve put me off. Instead it turned me on even more. Reaching down with my free hand, I found the spot between my legs so hungry to be touched.
Wow . . . Oh, wow.
That was really nice. There must’ve been something about tasting him that enhanced my own sensations, because touching myself had never felt like this before. Pausing, I pulled back to lick him like an ice cream cone. His entire body trembled. Then his hand tightened in my hair, pushing me back down over his length.
Something changed then.
Up to that point, I’d been in control. Now both of his hands cupped my head and I realized he could do just about anything to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. It should’ve scared me. Instead my fingers worked faster, because I wanted him that much more.
“Mel, I want to come on your tits,” he muttered, tugging back on my hair. It took an instant to sink in, and then I was pulling free. That’s when he spotted my hand down between my legs. His eyes widened and he came with a gasp, come spurting out of his cock, spraying across my chest. Then he caught me under the armpits, dragging me up his body. An instant later his hand reached down between my legs from behind, plunging into my depths.
The world exploded.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation as stars danced behind my eyelids. Holy crap. Who’da thunk blowing a guy could be this good?
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous when you come, Mel,” he said, his voice almost reverent as he ran his hands up and down my back. Sighing, I snuggled into his warmth, wishing he didn’t have to leave. We lay there quietly, and I didn’t know about him, but I figured so long as I didn’t actually see how late it was, I could pretend time wasn’t passing.
“Babe, I gotta go,” he whispered after not nearly long enough. I rubbed my nose against his shoulder, then gave it a little nip. He laughed. “What was that for?”