Page 37 of The Real Mason
I intend to lavish him with the attention he deserves.
My tongue glides along the mushroom head.
A low growl fills the room, and his hand tangles in my hair. Pleasure in pleasing him, at making him moan, fuels my confidence, and I double my efforts.
I lick, swirl, run my tongue up and down his length.
When I flick my tongue along the slit, his thigh muscles tense against my shoulders.
It excites me.
I scoot forward, the clamps stinging my nipples as my breasts sway.
Some sort of frantic haze blocks out all thought.
A low groan drifts down from above.
Growing bolder, I flatten my tongue along the underside of his cock.
“Fuck.” It’s a guttural, gravelly sound, and his legs jerk. “That’s right, girl. Very nice.”
The praise sets my already overheated blood to boil.
I try harder— craving that encouragement, needing his approval.
His hips flex. His cock jerks against my lips.
And I just keep getting hotter and hotter.
I lick him like a porn star. Tease. Tempt. Do everything in my power to rouse him to the same fevered pitch afflicting me.
Shameless desire takes over my brain.
I suck the tip into my mouth, moving down his length to engulf him. Just like the women I dismissed in those books, I’ve become a slave to his pleasure, desperate for the taste of him.
“Jesus Christ.” He tugs on the chain on my nipples, and a sharp, searing pain radiates from the abused tips. I suck in air through my nose, silently demanding more.
Yes, yes, yes.
He tugs again.
It inflames me. I suck harder. Draw him in deeper. Rising to my knees, I cup him and feast like a glutton.
His balls tighten, and I run my hands over them, scraping my nails along the sensitive sac the way I’ve read about.
I become the temptress I never dreamed I could be.
He shudders. Yanks hard on the chain.
I moan around his thick girth.Why does that feel good?
I don’t care at this point; I just want more.
This is not proper behavior for a first-grade teacher. But I won’t think about that now. For now, I focus on the pleasure, the pain, and the desire.
His grip tightens in my hair, and he pulls, forcing my mouth away. I fight to hang on. He grips my neck and rips me back. His cock, glistening from my mouth, bounces against his stomach.
Angry at being denied just as I’m getting completely lost in him, I glare up and yell, “What are you doing?”
