Turning again, he walks out of the living room, and back into the foyer. Pointing to the left of the front door, he says, “That is the downstairs bathroom,” and pointing to the right he tells me, “and that is the formal dining room, although not so formal as you see.” I laugh a little. He has a pool table in the formal dining room, where there would typically be a large table.
He turns around and gestures up the stairs. “There are two guest bedrooms up there. They are empty, so there is no need to show you two bare rooms.” He walks past the stairs into another room. He flips the switch on the wall and dim lights come on.
“This is the master, my room,” he explains as he sets my feet on the floor. The room is warm, but modern. The walls are grey; the furniture is black and the bedding is all white. The bedding is the only thing white in the room. His bed is large; I’d say it’s a king size. I really like the look and feel of this room. Hell, I love the look and feel of this house.
“I wouldn’t have pictured you in a rather normal-size house,” I say, turning to take everything in.
“I grew up in a huge house and hated it,” he says emphasizing the word hated. He takes his jacket off and places it across the back of a chair in the corner. He closes the bedroom door; I assume because he doesn’t want the dogs to come in here after they’ve finished their meal.
“What, no dogs in the bedroom?” I ask as he walks to me.
“They are allowed in here; just not at this very moment,” he says with a knowing grin. He runs both hands down my arms.
“Right now, the only thing I want to play with is you.” His smile is wicked. My heart rate increases at the possibility.
He kneels on the floor and lifts my foot to rest on his knee. He unbuckles my sandal, tosses it to the floor, and repeats the step with the other foot. Once he is done, he stands back up and looks down at me. His eyes are hooded, but his face is playful. I smile at him and reach for his tie to loosen it. The way this man looks at me causes goose bumps to form all over my skin. Once I have it pulled out of his shirt, I toss it in the direction of the chair.
I untuck his shirt from his pants and start unbuttoning. Once I have the last button undone, I place my hands underneath, and rub upward until I reach his shoulders. His skin is hot and heats my fingers. From there, I push the shirt off and it pools on the floor behind him.
He kicks his shoes off, lowers his head down to my neck, and kisses that spot he likes so much. “You look like heaven dressed in white,” he tells me as he reaches behind my back to pull the zipper down. “If you didn’t feel like heaven, I couldn’t bear to take it off,” he says breathily as my dress is pooling on the floor. The things this man says makes me weak in the knees.
The bulge in his pants is hard and aching to be released. I can feel it pressing again my stomach. I want to feel it. I want to taste it; I have an overwhelming need to have it in my mouth.
I undo the buckle on his belt and pull it from the loops of his pants, letting it fall to the floor. I pop the button on his pants as he’s unclasping my bra. He tosses my bra to the floor and I pull down the zipper of his pants.
Kneeling on the floor, I grab his pants and boxer briefs and yank them down, freeing his hard length. He’s naked and I’m kneeling down in front of him only wearing my silky white panties. In this moment, I want nothing more than to worship his cock with my mouth.
He’s looking down at me and I’m gazing up at him. He has a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It’s a look of power and strength, lust and need. He looks glorious from this angle. I think I would do anything for him.
I grab his penis, fisting my hand around the base and bring my lips to it. Opening my mouth, I dart my tongue out and twirl it around the tip. I hear a quick intake of air and then he moans low when I run my tongue along the underside and along each side of him, coming back to the tip and twirling my tongue again. His cock is fully lubricated with my saliva.
Opening wide, I take him in my mouth, clasping my hand tighter around his cock. He grabs hold of my hair, fisting my red locks in his hands.
“Fuck, Shannon, God, that feels good,” he says, breathlessly. I move back and forth, my mouth and hand in unison. I continue this rhythm for a few more seconds then quicken the pace. I move my hand down, cupping his testicles and tug lightly. I take him further in my mouth.
“Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” he shouts. I go deeper and speed up a little. I take him slightly down my throat swallowing as I continue the pace, going back and forth.
“I’m going to come,” he says through pants as he tightens the grip on my hair. Strands are pulled taut and it’s a little painful, but I don’t slow down. I don’t care how hard he pulls. The harder he pulls the more turned on I am. He spills himself into my mouth and I swallow as it shoots out, running down my throat. I don’t lose a drop as I find myself liking the salty taste of his seed.