Page 27 of Double Trouble
Head back, mouth open wide, body slumped into supplication. Right now, I wanted Owen to see just what being around him did to me. Just how much I really did like him.
As I watched, turned on and getting more so just by the sight of him face-fucking me, Owen was watching me too. Eyes half-lidded, mouth gaping, he looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
One minute the head of his cock was bumping against the back of my throat, and the next he was pulling out. Before I could say anything, in one swift motion he lifted me up and conveyed me to my bed.
This is where I sleep, I thought, dazed, still trying to figure out how my life had come to this. This is where I’ve slept, alone, for three years now, and now I’m with the hottest man I know.
Next thing I knew, my soaked through panties were being dragged down and tossed aside. Owen put his mouth where they’d been, and I cried out. His nibble-sucking kisses on my thighs were exquisite torture. Rough and soft alternated as he kissed a path toward my pussy.
“You…” was all I could gasp.
Owen only flicked up his brows, clearly pleased with himself. I pushed up, rolling him over onto his back and straddling his face so I could go back to work on sucking him off.
As soon as my mouth made contact with the head of his cock, he was the one shaking.
Although that only seemed to spur him on, as his kisses brought themselves right between my legs now to my pussy lips that he tongued and teased, enjoying my squirming.
Though if he thought that meant distracting me from the sucking dick task at hand, then he had another thing coming. Because the way Owen was pleasuring me now only served to throw me into my task with more gusto. Forming a seal with my lips and wrapping them over my teeth, I slurped my way down his dick hard. All the way until once again his dick was tapping against the back of my throat.
Owen, meanwhile, had joined his finger in the mix, dipping it into my quivering depths. His mouth moved on and up to kiss my swollen clit.
By now, I was practically thrashing.
When Owen sat up, an angry sigh escaped me.
“One second,” he said, staring at me. His eyes ran up and down me, his lip gaped lower. In my mouth, his cock flexed.
“What is it?” I said, breaking free.
“Just – you’re goddamn beautiful Cin.”
His eyes underscored the truth of his words. And when he dove his face between my legs, lips and tongue on clit, finger in my pussy, that was the biggest best proof of all.
His pulsing fingers and suckling mouth worked in perfect tandem to pleasure me. More and more, higher and higher, until everything peaked and the edges of my vision oranged and yellowed and slammed and swam.
After, he eased himself out of me, as I eased his dick further into my mouth. Already, I had felt him twitching deliciously.
So, all there was to do was treat him to an orgasm just how he’d treated me.. In and out. Deep and deeper. Maybe it was the excited thrum of emotions – joy, disbelief, wonder – at what was happening going through me, but I was more fully into the task of blowing Owen than I’d ever been at anything. My whole world was contained in the thick, long contours of his cock, and all I lived for right then was to see it pulse its white-hot liquid joy into me.
It wasn’t long before I got my wish. His twitching spurred me on as I flung everything I had into it, my hand helping form a further seal, my lips aching with the need for him to come, and the ceaseless rhythm of his upward thrusts. Until he was groaning, and time broke and so did the rhythm, and my mouth and tongue and hands were dancing all over him, no logical way and every way at once. His hands fisted my hair and his cock spurted into me, once, twice, and more, pouring down my throat.
And then we lay there, breathing together, our bodies spasming with the aftershocks, smiling at each other like idiots.
17
Owen
“You like Eggos?” was not what I expected to wake up to. And yet, after being shook, overly roughly for my liking, the first thing I saw was Cin’s flushed smiley face, and the first thing I heard was, “You like Eggos?”
“Yes?” was all I could think to say to whatever it was that beautiful face was asking me.
“What kind of Eggos?” I asked, padding into the kitchen.
Cin made a face like she’d been insulted. “Chocolate chip, of course.”
“I was worried it was bran,” I confessed.
“Bran,” Cin repeated, eyeing me, waiting for the punchline that never came.
