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“Do you still think about the wedding?” I asked.
Claire’s hand went still on my stomach. Then she smiled, slow and dangerous.
“Every time I see you,” she said. “Every single time.”
She tugged the towel away. My cock sprang free, slapping against my belly, and she looked at it the way I’d seen her look at chocolate cake at family birthdays. Like she was pretending she wasn’t going to have any.
“I’m not touching it with my hands,” she said. “My hands are for work.”
Then she bent over and licked me from balls to tip.
I nearly came off the table. She laughed against my shaft, warm breath and wet tongue, then wrapped her lips around the head and sucked, hard. Her cheeks hollowed. She slid down, inch by inch, until I hit the back of her throat and she held me there, gagging softly.
“Fuck, Claire.”
She came up for air with a string of spit between her lips and my cock. “Quiet,” she said, and went back down.
She sucked me like she’d been planning it for years. Sloppy, eager, swirling her tongue under the head, hands clasped behind her back like a rule she’d made for herself. When I warned her I was close, she just moaned and took me deeper.
I came straight down her throat. She swallowed every drop, then sat up and wiped her mouth.
“Ending your session now,” she said, breathless. “Tell no one.”
Ending 7 of 16: The Blowjob Instead. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.