by Penny Wylder
I nod, reaching for the chocolate ice cream. I don't eat ice cream that much, and so I can't help but think that she's right.
"So what would you do?" she asks. "If you weren't CEO. I mean...do you like your job? Or do you wish you could do something else?"
Laughing softly, I dab some whipped cream on top of my ice cream. "I wish someone had asked me that when I took over the company."
Her eyes go wide. "Really?"
"Really," I say. "I don't hate my job. I like our company and what it does. We do a lot of good charity work on the side of the greeting card business, and I love when I can expand that. But if I had a choice to do anything, I'd pick something simple and physical. When you do this kind of job, where relationships are talking to people all day are the staple, there's something nice in thinking about being a house painter, or something that I could leave behind at the end of the day. But as far as hobbies go, I like clay."
Sally perks up, curious. "Clay?"
"I took some ceramics and clay throwing classes when I was in college, and I always really enjoyed it. Not only is it an artistic outlet, it’s actually a workout. I try to do it sometimes still, but there's not a lot of time to take away for that kind of thing."
"That's really cool," she says. "Do you have anything you've made that you kept?"
"I have one thing," I say. "I have a bowl that I made and glazed in my first class. It is objectively terrible, but I still use it."
She smiles, and it's a huge, real smile. "I want to see it sometime."
"You'll just have to come over to my place, I guess." I say it lightly, like it's not a big thing. But both of us know that that that's not true. It would be a very big thing.
Sally smiles and grabs some chocolate sauce to go with her vanilla and strawberry ice cream. "I guess I'll have to."
We fall into a comfortable pattern of conversation, trading facts about our lives and families, the way people on a first date might. It's almost like today is the first time we've met, and the club and the dress shop never happened. It feels like this should have come first. But it didn't, and every fact she reveals about herself only makes me like her more. Sally is very grounded and down to earth, even if she's too down on herself.
Some time I'll ask why, and ask if maybe the reason she doesn't think she's worth time and effort has anything to do with past relationships. But now isn't the time for that. We're having too much fun, and I'm getting stuffed with sugar.
Sally lifts her spoon to her mouth and some whipped cream gets stuck on her nose. Instinctively I reach forward and wipe it away with my thumb, and it's like a barrier has been broken. We haven't touched each other since we sat down, and the appropriate distance of the questions we've been asking put space between us. But wiping away that little bit of cream makes me think of wiping it away differently. Licking it away. And that spirals into thoughts about Sally naked wearing nothing but whipped cream.
God, I'm hard again, and the way Sally is looking at me speaks of thoughts that aren't at all innocent.
"What are you thinking about?" I ask her.
Pink flushes her cheeks. "I don't want to say."
I grin. "That makes me want to know even more."
"I was thinking that I would have rather you used your mouth to do that instead of your thumb."
"I was thinking the same thing," I say, leaning forward to dip my finger in the remaining chocolate sauce. "I could tell you what else I was thinking."
She clears her throat and takes a sip of water, and I smile again. "Please do."
"I was thinking about having you naked with nothing but whipped cream covering your nipples," I say, watching as her pupils dilate and her chest starts to rise and fall faster. "Now I'm thinking about how I could take this chocolate sauce," I lift my finger out of it so it's dripping and lift it to my mouth, "and spread it across your clit before making you come using nothing but my tongue."
Sally takes another sip of water, and she's not meeting my eyes. But her free hand is gripping the table, fingers flexing like I've shocked her and she's trying to hold on.
"I have very good tongue skills, Sally."
"Oh?" she says, voice low. "Prove it."
There's still some cherries in the bowl on the table, and I grab one, picking the stem from it. I put the stem into my mouth and quickly execute the maneuver that I practiced for hours as a teenager, and which has definitely benefited my sex life as an adult. When I open my mouth and pull out the stem, it's twisted around itself in a perfect knot.
I can see Sally's throat move as she swallows. "That does prove it," she says. Her hands drift over the table, and she picks up the remaining half of a banana, and she holds my eyes as she dips that damned piece of fruit in chocolate sauce. Shit. I know what she's going to do and I just went from being hard to being hard. She looks nervous, but determined, and I'm so damn proud of her I could shout. She's out of her comfort zone, and yet she still wants to keep going, wants more. I want to give her more.
"I like chocolate too," she says, putting the tip of the banana into her mouth. Watching her clean that banana off is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen, because chocolate is pooling at the edges of her lips, and it makes me think of what she would look like on her knees, with something very far from chocolate on her lips. And it's also immediately apparent that she's never given a blow job before.
I didn't think that would be a first that I could share with her, but I want that like a fire wants to consume whatever is in its path. Sally closes her eyes, and I hope she's imagining what it's going to be like to have my cock between her lips, because that's certainly what I'm thinking about. And then a thought comes, and I have to know. "Sally," I say softly. She looks at me. "Have you ever seen a cock before?"
This blush isn't like the rest of them, fiery red painting across her face and chest and telling me what I need to know before she even speaks. "No. I mean...I've always wanted to try that, but I never got far enough—I mean. I'm sorry. The whole virgin thing kind of got in the way usually."
"The men that you've been with before are idiots," I say flatly. "For thinking that you weren't worth their time just because you hadn't done something before."
She tilts her head, her face suddenly playful and curious. "So you'd let me do that?"
There's no blood in my brain. It's all in my cock, and I'm going to have to seriously think about something else if I'm going to get out of this restaurant without drawing unwanted attention.
I haven't said anything, and she keeps going. "You gave me such a great orgasm, and I've always wanted to try that, to know if I'd be good at it. I like the thought of giving someone pleasure like that."
"Sally," I say, stopping her before she can say more. "Are you saying that you want to suck my cock?"
She flushes again and swallows. "Yes."
I stare at her, not actually believing this, but unable to say no. This is a fantasy come to life, and I don't want to take advantage of her. But at the same time, I don't want to turn her down, to make her feel inadequate when that's all men have done to her. "There's no obligation," I say to her. "This isn't something that I'm expecting or asking. If you want to experiment with me, I'm all for it. But I don't want you to feel pressured in any way."
"I want to do more than this with you," she blurts out. "But I know that everything can't happen at once. I want to."
I raise my hand and catch the waiter's attention. "Check, please."
9
Sally
Oh my God. Oh my God.
This isn’t where I thought dinner would go, but I’m not angry. I’m excited. Deep in my gut I have a thrill that I can’t explain and I’m so turned on that I’m pretty sure I’m currently ruining my underwear.
Our waiter comes over, and I watch as he completes our bill as fast as humanly possible. Poor guy, we've been a really untraditional table. But I see the amount that Eric writes down on the recipe for a tip and I know that he'll be just fine. Hell, with that amount h
e probably just got an extra week’s worth of pay. God, what it must be like to be rich enough to do that.
Eric stands and holds out his hand, and I take it. Fuck, I cannot believe I'm actually going to do this. I can't believe that I told him that I want to do this and that he listened. We make our way out past the hostess and we're moving too quickly for her to say thank you to us properly. Eric is rushing, and when he pulls me in front of him as we step out of the door into the flash of cameras, I realize why. He's hard, and he doesn't want people to see. Well, that at least I can understand, and there's a smug bit of satisfaction settling in my chest that he's at least as turned on as I am.
We're in the car in a flash, and he hands the driver some bills through the divider. "Take us around the block and go for a coffee break. Take your time."
"Yes, Sir." I can't help but wonder how many times that's happened to this driver. If people regularly ask for privacy. Eric slides up the divider, and the silence of the car envelops us. Eric pulls me against him. His hands are rough and gentle at once in an oxymoron that doesn't make sense but sets me on fire. God, everything about this is good. Feels good. I want him, and finally, finally, someone wants me. When I pull back I'm gasping. "You're going to have to tell me what to do," I say, breathless and tingling with anticipation. If I can make him feel as good he made me feel last night, this will be a victory. Hell, half as good would be a victory.
"I need to ask you one more time," he says. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." There's no hesitation, I want to taste him. I want to be able to know that I've done this and that I can give someone pleasure. I want to hear what sounds he'll make when my mouth is on him. I've seen porn, I've got the general idea, but I think the reality of it is going to be different.
"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Then you're going to need to be on your knees."
The car stops, and we lurch a little. I hear the driver's side door open and close, and Eric pushes down the locks. The windows are so dark that they're almost opaque, and we're caught in our own little private world for as long as we like. On my knees, he said. I shiver, because getting down on the floor of this car feels significant. I don't think you're supposed to kneel in a ball gown, but I do it, spreading the skirt out around me so I'm in a pool of crimson silk.
Eric opens his jacket and then his hands reach his pants, and I'm suddenly focused on his cock, because it's right there. I can see the outline of it through his pants, huge and hard and totally ready. He unbuttons the pants, and moves them aside, and slowly pulls himself free. God, that's real. I didn't lie to him, I've never seen one in real life, and I think his was a pretty damn good one to start with.
For starters, he’s big. I know enough about sex to know that not all men are blessed like this. It's jutting straight up from his body, and my mouth starts to water. I'm going to put my mouth on that. I'm going to make him feel good. But I'm not sure I completely know how. I stand up higher on my knees and reach for him, touching softly. His cock jerks in my hand, and a muffled sound comes from Eric's throat. "That feels good," he says. "You're going to make me come just touching."
I smirk at him. "That's not what we signed up for, but you're still going to have to guide me. I want you to love this. Tell me what you want."
Eric's eyes go dark with lust, and he takes a breath. "Start slowly, and start with your tongue," he says. "Lick me."
"Where?"
"Everywhere. Treat my cock like it's the best tasting lollipop that you've ever put in your mouth." His voice has gone rough and raw and my stomach clenches, heat and need rippling through me in a wave. I ignore the shimmering nerves in my gut, and I lean forward and touch him with my tongue. Just on the tip, to break the barrier. He tastes like salt, and not at all bad, as I’ve been sometimes been warned.
A lollipop. I move my tongue down to the side and stroke up, with just the tip of my tongue. And then I do it again, moving to a slightly different spot. And again. “Good,” he says, the word long and drawn out.
I read something once in a magazine about the nerves in a man, and how they’re concentrated under the tip. That’s something to try. I shorten the stroke of my tongue to just under the head of his cock, to see how he reacts, and I see his hands ball into fists and he blows out a sharp breath. Good. I have to catch myself because I realize that I’ve stopped to smile.
Doing exactly what he said, I lick all of him. Every inch that I can reach from the base to the tip and I’m working my way back down when he speaks again. “Put me in your mouth.” The blunt instruction falls through me, and I obey, taking the tip of him in and feeling the deeper taste of him on my tongue.
Eric reaches out and weaves his fingers into my hair, fingers tightening, and he guides me down. He’s so big that he’s stretching my mouth, and I know that there’s no way that I’ll be able to take all of him. But I take as much as I can.
The sound he makes sends arousal sinking into my bones. “Suck my cock,” he says. And I do, using my mouth, I suck, and this is where some of my instinct kicks in. I’ve seen enough to know that there’s a rhythm, and I move my mouth up, sucking him to the tip and sinking down again.
His hands are strong in my hair, and he slowly urges me faster. “Use your mouth to fuck me.” And then he slows down, tugs on my hair so that I look up at him, my mouth still full of his cock. “You are very good at this, Sally. I don’t want you to stop until I come, and there’s nowhere else in this car my cum can go except down your throat. Do you understand?”
I nod, and he leans a little closer, grip tightening just a little more. “I want you to worship my cock with your mouth.”
His voice is unflinching and commanding, there’s no question that I’ll obey. Even if he weren't telling me to, I want this. I dive down onto him with my mouth, taking as much as I can and setting up a rhythm of up and down and up and down, making sure that I’m sucking him deeply.
I pause and go back to the lollipop method, enjoying the way he hisses a breath, and the way he jerks under my tongue. I look up at him, stroking him with long, slow licks and watch as his eyes turn to molten fire. I could watch that look on his face forever.
And I go back to the rhythm. This time he helps, changing my movement slightly from an even beat to a wave, fast going down, slower moving up, the motion dragging his skin across my tongue and I glance up to see his eyes closed and his lips parted. Suddenly his hips are thrusting up to meet my mouth, and he guides me faster, half letting me suck him, half fucking me.
Eric’s breath is shallow, and he moans as he pushes deeper towards my throat. “I’m going to come,” he says, voice dark and rough.
He holds my head still, his last thrust deep and hard, and he groans as heat and salt explodes in my mouth. It’s a flood, and I try to swallow it, quickly as I can. It tastes like him, like his cock but richer and creamy and not at all like I expected. Another burst of it comes, and another, and I drink him in.
And then he’s finished, and he’s staring at me, and his cock is still in my mouth. He smiles, a very satisfied and male smile. “That was very good. I wouldn’t have known it was your first time.”
I pull back so that I can speak. “You’re a good teacher.”
“And you’re a natural,” he says, pulling me up off my knees. “And it’s your turn.”
I’m on my back on the seat of the car and he’s over me before I even have the chance to ask, “My turn for what?”
Eric’s voice is practically a growl. “For me to taste you the way I’m dying to. This is my real dessert.”
“But we’re already even,” I gasp.
He laughs against my skin, kissing across my collarbone. “This isn’t about being even. If couples kept track of how many orgasms each one had, no one would ever stay together.”
“But—”
He looks at me. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he says. “But you do. I saw the look on your face at dinner, and you know that I can make you come. So tell me to stop.”<
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Our eyes are locked, and I say nothing. Because he’s right. I’ve never had this either, and I want his mouth on me as much as I wanted to taste him. As my silence stretches on, his mouth tips up into a smirk. He doesn’t say anything, just moves down my body and lifts the skirt of my dress higher and higher until it’s bunched around my hips.
My heart is pounding and my breath coming in gasps as he pushes my thighs apart and I can feel his breath on my panties. Oh God, this is happening, and my stomach is swimming with butterflies and anticipation, and I’m wet enough that he’ll be able to see it.
He hasn’t touched me, not yet. And then there. Just a brush of something across the fabric over my clit, and even that tiny touch is so good. Again, that touch, and I realize it’s his tongue. He’s licking me through my panties, holy shit.
Eric’s hands slide up my thighs, fingers hooking in the fabric and peeling it away. He slips them down my legs and then they’re gone and he’s back, that same light touch of tongue but this time it’s on my skin and holy. Fucking. Shit.
I moan, because even with vibrators and toys nothing has ever felt like this and he’s only just touched me. Eric spreads my thighs wider so I’m on display for him, and he continues to lick me. Gentle flicks across my clit and down across my entrance that splash pleasure across my skin.
His hands are still on my thighs, and I feel utterly possessed. Eric has me where he wants me, and he’s not going to stop until I come. The movement of his tongue is getting longer, smoother, spreading across my skin and dipping inside my entrance.
And then he seals his mouth over me and sucks deep, and I think I might have just screamed, I’m not sure because it feels so good. Holy fuck, if what I did to him felt anything like this…
He moves, lips focusing around my clit, and teasing, pulling, grazing me with his teeth. Ripples of pleasure are ringing around my gut and I can feel my orgasm coming quickly. I want it to last longer, I don’t ever want it to end. But I’m too wet and too aroused and it’s not going to last.
