If anything, he pulled me harder against him.
“Greedy,” I mumbled against his skin.
“You have no idea,” he gasped as I continued my quest south.
“You’re lying on the floor upstairs in a gay bar where I’m about to show you I don’t have a gag reflex,” I told him as I palmed his dick through his jeans. “I have some idea.”
He gaped at me, face flushed.
I grinned at him.
He said, “You don’t… what?”
“At least I’ve found where all your blood has gone,” I teased. With a practiced flip of my wrist, I snapped open the first button on his jeans, pleased to find they were button fly. I didn’t know why that did it for me, but it did.
He grunted as I mouthed the head of his dick through his briefs, wetting the fabric. He lifted his hips as I pulled h
is jeans down to midthigh. I thought about prolonging this further, really making him work for it, but I didn’t have the patience. I’d told him that I couldn’t be Helena, not all the time, and that was the truth. But she was never far from the surface, always a piece of her raring to break through and take what she wanted.
And right now, Helena Handbasket wanted some cock.
I pulled his briefs up and over his dick, resting them under his balls. I was pleased to see he didn’t shave them. His cock was a pretty thing, not the monster cock one would have expected someone like Darren to have. In fact, it wasn’t much different than my own, maybe a little thicker. It had a wicked curve to it, arching up toward his belly button, the tip flushed red and skin tight.
The noise he made when I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed was almost a sigh, and the muscles in his stomach clenched and contracted. I settled myself between his legs, resting my chest on the floor, my dick aching deliciously. Darren propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me with wide eyes. He made an appealing picture, mouth slack, tongue wetting his lips, his nipples slick with my spit.
“You know,” I said, almost conversationally, jacking him off slowly with a dry hand, knowing it wasn’t quite enough friction to get anywhere aside from driving him slowly insane. “I’m really very good at cock sucking.”
“That right?” he said hoarsely.
I wasn’t sure where this ego trip was coming from, but I liked it. Maybe it was more Helena than me, but there was something wonderfully dangerous about having the Homo Jock King spread out before me like this, chest heaving and wanting. “That’s right,” I agreed, mouth close to the head of his cock, so much so that I knew he felt my breath on his skin. I jacked him down, making sure my pinkie brushed up against his balls. “And you are so very, very lucky to find out just how good.”
And because life could always stand to be a bit pornier than it actually was, I spit on his dick, a trail of saliva catching on my bottom lip and falling on his cock. I squeezed as I jacked upward, the slide creating a squelch that caused his hips to thrust up.
“You’re going to want to hold on to something.” I grinned up at him.
His eyes were already clouded and sex-stupid, but he still managed to say, “Wait. What? What do you mean hold on to—”
I took him in my mouth and to the back of my throat in one smooth motion, barely feeling the twinge on the back of my tongue. He shouted roughly as my nose hit his pubes. I kept my face pressed down there, breathing shallowly through my nose, swallowing as best I could to work my throat around his dick. It was wet and messy, saliva dripping down his cock and onto his balls. I reached up and fondled them as I slid my mouth up his dick, using the barest hint of teeth.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned as I watched him through my eyelashes. “Jesus fucking Christ, you—”
He cut off in a strangled yelp when I gripped his dick again, one hand on top of the other. I sucked on the head as I jacked him low and hard, swirling my tongue into his slit. My lips felt puffy and my eyes were wet and I loved it. I loved it because of the power I had over him. Most think that sucking dick is a submissive act. That couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, it’s complete control, even if you’re on your knees.
I pulled off his dick, the taste of him sharp and bitter on my tongue. “I said you should hold on to something,” I said, voice rougher than it’d been before. “I’ll give you a hint. The back of my head. Because you’re gonna want to fuck my mouth.”
“Holy shit,” he breathed.
“Indeed,” I said.
He tentatively brought a hand up to my head as I licked the underside of his dick, tracing that fat vein up his length. His grip was soft. Gentle. I didn’t need soft and gentle. I needed a good fucking grip so he could use my mouth like I wanted him to.
I reached up behind me and covered his hand with my own. Making sure he was watching, I tightened his grip, really making him dig in. “I like it hard.” I felt him shudder beneath me. “You can pull my hair if you want. That’s what it’s there for.”
He rolled his eyes, an action quite daring since I was so close to his dick with my teeth. I nipped at him gently for his insolence and he jumped and narrowed his eyes down at me. As if to show that he thought he still had the upper hand (and just how cute was that?) he really grabbed on, fingers curling in my hair and pulling sharply, enough to cause a jolt of bright, glassy pleasurepain to roll through me.
He pressed me back down to his cock, and I let it rub along my face, my lips as I continued to stare up at him. His pupils were blown, and he was propped up on one arm while using the other to tug on my head.
I licked his flared head before swallowing him down again. He thrust shallowly at first, barely getting half his dick in before pulling back out. He held my hair tightly enough that I couldn’t move my head. He pushed up again and went deeper. And then deeper. And deeper, until he was hitting the back of my throat with each thrust.