He smiles around my cock, taking more into his mouth as he pushes his finger slightly into me. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not really that great either. “More,” I plead quietly, but he hears me.
He pushes into the knuckle and then stops, giving all his attention to my hard dick, sucking and licking before he pushes more inside. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a little uncomfortable. Though when he pulls his finger entirely out, I whimper at the loss.
“No.”
“Shhh,” he soothes me yet again, and I’d feel ridiculous if it was with anyone else. He adds more lube and then pushes his finger slowly back into me. Over and over, he pushes lube into me with one finger and then two, stretching me out as he sucks my dick, taking nearly the whole thing.
Of course he would master deep throating before me. The fucker.
But when his fingers brush over that magic spongy spot inside me—that thanks to a little Googling, I know is my prostate—I lose it, shooting into the back of his mouth and nearly blacking out from the sheer pleasure of it.
He massages my gland until I cry out with too much sensitivity, and then he slowly removes his fingers, his tongue licking up all the cum from my spent dick, and then crawls up my body to kiss me hard, letting me taste myself as he ruts against me.
My arms feel like jelly, but I do manage to reach down and wrap my hand around his hard cock, needing to be the one to make him come.
“You’re so beautiful, Emerson,” he repeats over and over, thrusting his hard dick into my fist, and I wish it was my ass, but I don’t say anything because he’s coming.
His face a glorious vision of ecstasy as he throws his head back and unleashes into my hand and all over my stomach.
How is this so good?
And how am I going to let this go?
Not only just this . . . but him?
TWENTY-TWO
I just got here, and I already want to leave.
Does that make me an ungrateful bastard? Why yes, yes, it does. I feel terrible about it, but I can’t help it. But after talking to Emerson about it, I feel a little less guilty. It’s like he sees something in me that no one else does.
He just lets me be me. With all my flaws that he doesn’t even see as flaws.
“You’ve been working too hard, sweetie,” my mom says, sweeping her hand over my forehead.
“Look who’s talking,” I shoot back but not cruelly. I see the dark circles under each of her eyes and the weary look on her face.
“You look tired,” she says worriedly, sitting down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of her.
I sit down across from her, but I don’t comment that she does also. There’s no need for it. “I’m okay.”
“You and Lucy back together?” she asks hopefully, and my gut clenches. She really loves Lucy, and Lucy loves her. She was heartbroken when Lucy ended things with me, but while I seem to have gotten over it, I’m not sure my mom has.
“No. Why would we, Mom? She said it was over.”
My mom’s eyes narrow in my direction, dancing with joy as she nods toward my neck. “You don’t have to lie to me sweetie. Or are those hickeys from another special girl?”
Goddammit, Emerson.I silently curse him for sucking on my neck like a damn vampire, but instead of anger, I really just feel happiness. And lust. Way too much lust to be feeling this close to my mom—gross. Okay, get it under control.
Not like I didn’t leave several hickeys all over his skin this morning too. He snuck into the barn before chores to wake me up with a heavenly blowjob that I quickly returned after marking him up all nice and pretty for me.
I guess he got his revenge in the shower afterward. I must have forgotten in my hurry to get chores done and get this visit over with.
I shake my head at her question, and she laughs, bringing me back to the moment. “Wow. Smitten, huh?” Okay, I have to get rid of this goofy-ass smile that seems to be permanently on my face these days, but I’m not sure I actually want to. Would it be so bad if I just told her?
My mom is a good person. I don’t think she’d care that I happen to be... fooling around with a guy? See? I can’t tell her because I don’t know what the hell this thing with him is. He’s leaving in less than a month. I know that much.
“It’s nothing,” I say, trying to shrug it off. My smile is now gone, just thinking about Emerson leaving.
