"You don't have to," he said.
"I want to."
"Have you ever?"
"Once, kind of," I said as I pulled the boxers off the rest of the way; he tossed them aside with a foot.
"Kind of?" He quirked his eyebrow, a gesture that I was learning held a wealth of expression for Shane.
I shrugged. "It didn't go well. He didn't like it, said it felt weird. I stopped before it really got anywhere, and I never tried again."
I shrugged, dismissing the past.
He pulled at a blond curl with a finger. "If you want to..."
I didn't respond. Not with words, anyway. I took him in both hands, one fist atop the other, and his head still stuck an inch above my fingers, if not more. He was thick too, wide and round, with a gentle inward curve from the base to the tip. I traced the tiny hole at the tip with a finger, and clear fluid pulsed out. I lowered my head to taste it, and he flinched again, his c**k bobbing with his sucked-in breath. So sensitive.
I rubbed up and down with my hands, but I realized he was dry, so I lowered my mouth to his length, licking him, taking him sideways into my mouth and letting my saliva coat him. He was slick now, and I took him in my hands again, pumping slowly. His hips began to gyrate, and I felt bolder, now. His eyes were hooded, his chest heaving slowly, his hands grasping the comforter of the bed. I took his bulbous, engorged head in my mouth, tasting the pre-come on my tongue, and then spat him out to admire his c**k once more.
Shane laughed. "You're teasing me, Leo. Oh, god, you're driving me crazy."
I looked up at him, still holding him in my hands, and slid my hands along his c**k again. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to tease you on purpose. Your c**k is just so beautiful."
He smiled at me, then tipped his head back and arched his spine as I took him in my mouth again, spreading my lips as wide as they could go to accommodate his girth. I pumped my fists around him, taking him farther in my mouth until he bumped against the back of my throat. Back out then, not all the way, and he was clutching the blanket with white-knuckled fists.
He'd already lasted longer than I'd ever had a man inside me.
I swallowed him again, this time pushing him deeper into my throat, just to the edge of my gag reflex. He gasped, then, when he was nearly down my throat, and I loved the sound, loved the kind of power I had over him, doing this. I was enjoying it, for myself, and for him. Now I started a rhythm, bobbing up and down on him, slipping my hands on his c**k near the base in the rhythm of my mouth around him.
His hips moved with a desperate vigor and I matched his pace, working him with mouth and hands as fast as I could move, gliding my hands on his saliva-slick base and my mouth on his engorged cock-tip. I took him deep, then, letting him push against my throat and to the very edge of my gag-reflex. He was thrusting wildly, and I learned to back away as he reached the apex of his thrust so I didn't gag. His fingers and knuckles were white from his death-grip on the comforter, and he was gasping low in his throat.
I left one hand moving on his c**k and lowered the other to his balls, cupping his sac in my palm and fingers, massaging as gently as I could. They were so soft, gentle prickles of hair and wrinkled skin taut and tight.
He gritted a warning past clenched teeth, "I'm coming, oh god, I'm coming right now..."
He came, hard, unleashing a flood of hot, salty, thick seed into my mouth and down my throat. His balls pulsed in my hand, and his c**k trembled and quivered as he came. I milked him hard, sucking on him, working him with my hand until he moaned again and writhed on the bed, bending forward and then arching his back.
I felt powerful, then, sensual and seductive and all woman. He drew me to his chest and I curled into him, grateful for his warmth. I felt cocooned in his embrace, surrounded by heat and male muscle and dangerous strength and gentle affection.
"Oh. My. God." Shane's voice was husky and still breathless. "You made me come so hard. That was awesome."
I felt a thrill of pride at his praise. I knew I'd do that again, just to get the reaction from him, to feel the power over his body, to give him the kind of pleasure I so obviously had.
My fingers traced his muscles, the other hand pressed between us. His hands were sliding up and down my back, tickling my tailbone and down into the crevice of my ass, moving up my hip to my shoulder and back down to my ass in an exploring caress.
I couldn't keep my hand off his cock, though, and it was soon in my hand once more; I liked touching it, feeling its odd contradiction of silk and steel. At that moment it was soft and limp, flopping in my hand, strangely weighty.
My belly tensed with anticipation as he started to firm under my touch. I wanted him inside me, I was trembling with eagerness to feel him plunge his immensity into my wet, slick pu**y.