I get on my knees before her, tug down those little shorts, and inhale her perfect mound. Oh, fuck, she is so sweetly trimmed, no fucking fancy Brazilian shit. JoJo is all woman; she’s not trying to be anything but herself and that fucking turns me on like no one ever has before.
“Oh, God, woman, you’re making me hard as rock.”
“I am?” she asks, running her hands through my hair.
I look up at her from where I kneel before her, and our eyes meet. In that moment, I feel something tug inside me, and it fucking scares me to death. Like maybe this heart I swore to God I’d never give anyone might be capable of belonging to someone else.
Shit, this woman is trouble, and yet ... I can’t stop myself. I need to be inside her again.
“Take off your top,” I tell her. “I want to see your tits when I look up. I need to see your skin.”
“Will someone walk in?” she asks, looking around the empty gym.
“It’s locked and, baby, I don’t fucking care. I want someone to see me licking your pussy until you come all over my face. I want someone to know how fucking lucky I am.”
She doesn’t hesitate, and I know she likes hearing how much I’m enjoying this. It turns me on, knowing she wants me to be in control. Oh, I’ll fucking take control.
Her arms pull her top over her head, and her sports bra along with it. Now that her tits are exposed, I run a hand along her flat stomach, reaching a palm over her soft breasts. Then I press my mouth against her slit, and my tongue weaves its way into her folds.
“Oh, McQueen, that’s, oh. Ohhh.” And then she stills her voice, unable to speak as I lick her up and down.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her to the floor, where a mat covers the ground. She’s completely naked, and flat on her back. I part her legs, wanting to suck her pretty little clit until she gushes for me.
“You’re gonna like this, baby,” I tell her, lowering my face to her spread legs.
My tongue knows right where it belongs, deep in her folds, and I flick hard and fast, knowing she loves it by the way her hands pull through my hair, the way her legs tighten up.
I push them back down, knowing she has no idea what she is in for. Slowly I begin at her hood, gently licking her, twirling my tongue around, gaining speed as her juice releases in my mouth. She tastes so good and sweet; I want to lick her pussy all night long.
“That’s too much, it’s too much,” she groans, not knowing that it’s just enough.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, blowing warm air into her, letting her squirm beneath me as I run my tongue over her delicate skin, so creamy, so untouched. I want to press my fingers in her, but don’t want to hurt her. She was already in pain earlier today. Right now, I’m just going to let her release until she’s come undone.
Until she’s come all over me.
My hands cup under her ass, holding her cheeks as my mouth devours her pussy. Faster, I flick her pulsing clit with my tongue. Her body tenses as I refuse to let up.
She starts coming, and her creamy release pours over me. I don’t stop, wanting to make her scream out, wanting to make her remember, for the rest of her fucking life, the first time a man ate her out. I don’t want her to ever forget how good I made her feel.
“Oh my God,” she cries, her hands buckling against my shoulders. “It’s so ... it’s too much ... it’s ohhh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yes.” And then she lets go of her hold on me. Her pussy walls are still pulsing against my mouth, and I softly run my tongue over her throbbing folds again, then again.
As she catches her breath, I run my tongue up from her pussy, across her stomach, over her tits, until I am above her. With my forearms resting on either side of her, I hover over her perfect body.
“You like that, JoJo?”
Her eyes close, as if she is thinking of the perfect word to use to describe her orgasm.
“It felt like I was suspended in air,” she says, her eyes open. I push her hair from her forehead and listen. “I was scared I’d crash and burn, but instead I flew.”
I kiss her again, her taste still on my mouth, but I can’t help it. The kiss is gentle, warm, filled with satisfaction.
My cock though, is still hard as a rock and needs to be stroked. She must feel it through my jeans, because her hands reach down, unbuttoning my pants. I kick them off, wanting my skin against hers so badly. She pulls off my shirt, and our chests press together.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“No strings?”
“None.”
“Then yes,” she says. “Yes, please.”
I grab a condom and roll it onto my bulging cock. She watches me silently from the floor, and in a moment I return to her.
“Fill me up,” she says in whisper.
I nod, ever so slightly, and slide into her wet pussy. It’s still so tight, so narrow, so new.
“Is it okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s just so tight.” Her eyes squeeze shut in pain, and I feel like shit for hurting her. “Just go in all the way. It’s okay.”
I do my best to ease myself into her as gently as possible.
“Are all guys like this?” she asks. “So ... big?”
I smile. “No one else is like this.”
She laughs, and that helps distract her as I make my way inside her.
“Ohhhh,” she moans. “It’s better when you’re all the way in.”
“Girl, I’m not all the way in.”
“Really?”
“Really. But it’s enough for now.” I rock against her, wanting to watch her every expression as my cock penetrates her deeply, in a different way than when she rode me in the locker room today. I can tell she likes it, me on top of her, my cock filling her to her core.
Her tits move up and down as I thrust tenderly. Her red locks fall over them and I brush her hair aside, wanting to see her tight little nipples.
“Oh, girl, I’m gonna come in you.” I plunge deeper and she moans in pleasure, so I move again, and again, that way, with a hard ending, until she can’t say a word, until all that is left is her heavy pants as she comes again.
And I do, too. I swear I come so good and long it’s like I haven’t fucked in a week, but it is just the build-up of one afternoon. This girl has worked me over, head to toe.
“When you say no strings … does that mean tomorrow is off limits?” I ask. “Because damn it, JoJo, I need to teach you to suck my cock. I’ve never come like that in my life.”
She blushes, her fair skin filled with color, and she covers her face with her hands.
“McQueen, you’re too much.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. There’s never too much when it comes to me.”
JoJo
We’re lying side by side, and my eyes look up to the clock overhead.
“Crap, it’s already eleven?
“Yeah, you got a curfew or something?” he asks.
“I do, actually. Midnight.”
“No wonder you’re a twenty-three-year-old virgin. You still live at home? You said your family was involved in your life, but maybe you should get a place of your own?”
I don’t want to talk to McQueen about where I live and why, because it would kill the mood.
And the mood is still hot. When he said he wanted me to suck his cock ... it’s all I can imagine. Getting on my knees, tasting him the way he tasted me.
Okay. Get a grip.
I take a deep breath.
“I don’t mind the curfew. It’s for my own good, anyway. There’s some shady stuff in Vegas.”
“Shit, I know.” McQueen shakes his head. “There’s some seriously fucked-up gangsters in this town. I had no idea when I moved here. I was so naive. Then everything that went down with Emmy’s sister a few months back, it really opened my eyes.”
“Emmy is Ace Royalle’s wife, right?”
“Yeah. Her sister got all caught up in this drug cartel; there was a car crash and she ended up dead. I had no clue that shit was happening. I was just dancing for ladies at the bachelorette parties, totally clueless.”
I sit up, knowing I need to dress and get home, not at all interested in the direction of this conversation. I know plenty about that accident, and don’t want to go there with McQueen. What he doesn’t know will only protect him.
I pull on my shorts and tank top. He dresses, too, and soon enough we’re assembled. Though I need a shower desperately.
“Well, thanks,” I say, offering him a fist bump.
He shakes his head, grinning, running his hand over his jaw. “Girl, you are seriously fucking with my head.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I’ve never been fist-bumped post-coitus before is all. Most girls want my digits. Or social security number.”
“I’m not most girls.”
“I know,” he says quickly. “You’re different.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t help but smile at his lines. They’re damn good.
“Well, you can walk me to my car, if you want?” I grab my gym bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“Let me carry that, then,” he says, taking it from me.
We leave the gym, making sure the lights are off and the door is locked behind us, and I pull my keys from my purse. Clicking the key fob toward my Mercedes, I turn to him. “Well, here we are.” I open the passenger door and he sets the bag on the seat.