“Do you have bagels here at Cafe Alcott?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.
“I’ll whip something up,” he chuckled and put the car in park.
Jon started a pot of coffee, and while I needed something to sober me up a little bit, I wasn’t sure I should drink coffee since it was pretty late. My willpower was shot once I smelled it—especially when I realized he wasn’t making bagels—he was making an entire breakfast. I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the bar while he scrambled some eggs, fried up a few slices of bacon, and toasted several pieces of bread. It wasn’t long until I had a feast in front of me with a cup of coffee that was—exactly like the one I ordered when I was trying to sober him up after I found him drunk at Chateau Prime.
“You remembered how I like my coffee?” I smiled as I took a sip.
“I was drunk, not deaf.” He sat down across from me. “I hope you like everything else.”
“I’m pretty famished,” I assured him.
The odd thing about working in a restaurant was that I carried food to people all night long, but I rarely ate there myself. Moretti’s wasn’t like the place I worked in high school where we could ask the cook to drop a few extra chicken tenders in the deep fryer or snag some onion rings if they sat in the pan too long. Jon and I made small talk while we ate. Once I had some food and coffee in my stomach, the effects of the alcohol began to wane. I wasn’t completely sober, but I could think with my normal brain instead of the one that thought another tequila shot was a good idea. I would have probably been ready to pass out if the coffee wasn’t pushing me to stay up just a little bit longer.
“Do you want me to just drive yo
u home, or can you stay here for a little bit?” Jon picked up my plate and stacked it on his. “I don’t want Charley to hate me for keeping you out all night before she even gets a chance to meet me.”
“I could probably stay for a little while.” I bit down on my lip and smiled. “Maybe we could go to the couch?”
“Are you still drunk?” Jon narrowed his eyes.
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “But alcohol does make me a little more adventurous than usual…”
“In that case, we should go to the bedroom.” He smiled. “It’s a lot more comfortable than the couch.”
“Lead the way…” I looked towards the door and slid a finger across the top of his knuckles.
Jon took my hand and led me to the stairs—but we didn’t make it all the way to the bedroom before he pulled me close and crushed my lips beneath his. His kiss made me buzz a whole lot more than the tequila had. It felt like my body was dynamite, and his lips lit the fuse. He pulled me up the steps, and we left a trail of clothes as our desires began to take control of the moment. I wanted him—he wanted me—and nothing else mattered. I was naked in his arms when we got to the bedroom, and his lips were against my neck. He pushed me towards the bed, and I felt his cock engorged with his lust. I wanted it inside of me—but not yet.
“You got a taste last time.” I reached down and started stroking his cock. “I want one tonight.”
“I guess you weren’t lying when you said that alcohol made you adventurous.” He inhaled sharply, and his dick throbbed in my hand.
“I don’t need alcohol for this.” I gave him a nudge towards the bed. “You can have my lips whenever you want them—all you have to do is ask.”
“Oh god,” he gasped as he fell against the bed, and I started kissing his thighs—working my way towards his engorged length.
“Are you going to ask for me to kiss this?” I swirled my tongue against his skin and let him feel my breath along the bottom of his shaft.
“Please…” he sighed and put a hand on his head.
Good enough…
I kissed the top of Jon’s thighs and kept moving my lips a little further with every kiss until they were on his balls. My tongue gave them a gentle caressed, and his cock immediately throbbed. I liked having the power to make him squirm. It was the first time I had ever initiated oral sex—really, I never initiated anything with Jackson. I did what he wanted because I was in love with him and thought he was in love with me. I liked the way Jon took charge of things the first time in a sweet and gentle way—but it was my turn to make him come. I kept my tongue against his balls until his cock was pulsating and then slowly worked my way up his shaft. He gasped and moaned—his muscles got tight—and every second seemed to make him anticipate what was coming even more.
“Have you thought about having my lips here?” I pressed them to the head of his cock.
“Is it wrong to say that I have?” he exhaled sharply.
“No.” I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock.
“Then—yes…” he moaned.
“You won’t have to imagine it much longer.” I parted my lips and let his cock slide across them.
“Oh god!” He put a hand on my head, and his back arched.
Jon brought out something in me that was new—or maybe it was the lingering effects of the alcohol—but it felt primal. I wanted to taste him—pleasure him—and feel his desire for me. Our first time together had awakened hormones that never got a chance to flourish when I was a teenager. I wasn’t that scared girl anymore—the one that gave her body to someone who never appreciated what he had. Sex was exciting with Jon. Everything about it made my body hum with a craving that wasn’t going to be satisfied until euphoria engulfed the both of us.