Come On Over

“Come on over and suck me. Please.” says the text…

I giggle to myself.

I’d known much earlier in the evening how this would go, but we’ve been texting back and forth for a bit, pretending that he’s not asking me to drive across a city to suck him off. Pretending that I’m not horny enough for him to actually do it.

The text is a mix of cheek and charm, of course. As ever. He knows I love dirty words, but that they should be framed in niceties.

Am I really going to drive across a city to give him a blow job because he’s tired and hungover? Really?

Judging by how tingly my bits are right now, I would say that on balance, yes. Yes, I am.

Ten minutes later I’m parking up outside his house.

He’s naked pretty quickly and lies back on his bed, his cock rock hard already, jutting out from his body at practically a 90 degree angle.

I start with some gentle licks, teasing. Round the head of his dick. So lightly I think at times he will only just feel me. Then shallow in my mouth, just the head again, occasionally stopping so we can kiss. Then my hand and my mouth.

All the time he’s watching me. He explains later that he can see right down my top to my tits, shelved by a pink lacy bra.

I’m taking my time, because I want to enjoy having him in my mouth, but also so that he can appreciate the view. And I like feeling that I’m the one in control, for once, his dick straining as my tongue flick, flits, flickers.

There’s a point when he gasps “I want to come, I want you to make me come…” and I realise that I’m moaning too, making little grunts as he thrusts into me.

He comes in my mouth, a series of twitches and judders, slightly bitter, slightly beery. I lick his cock clean like it’s an ice lolly.

I never actually undress. He doesn’t really touch me the whole time. I’m on my way home exactly 42 minutes after arriving.

Today. Today, I feel a bit ridiculous that I’d make a car journey to give someone a blow job. Not only am I ridiculous enough to do it, I’m probably ridiculous enough to wank over it for months afterwards.

But as I turn a page on the document I’m reading, I’m not really taking it in. I’m thinking about my lips on his gorgeous cock. How he looked, so hard, desperate for my mouth.