Stroke of Luck

“Baby, if you want to feel a cock in your hand, I want it to be Austin’s first. Austin, do you want her to stroke your cock?”

From his flushed cheeks and the yearning in his eyes, clearly he did. But he hesitated.

“Come on, buddy,” Quinn urged. “April’s really okay with it. Right, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured.

“I might believe you more,” Austin said, “if she didn’t sound like she was following orders.”

Quinn chuckled. “But she is following orders. Part of the arrangement is that she follows my commands. And she calls me sir. But that doesn’t mean she’s doing anything she doesn’t want to do. Right, baby?”

Staring straight into Austin’s eyes, she nodded. “That’s right, sir.”

Quinn grabbed a handful of her skirt and drew it upward. Austin’s gaze locked on her rising hem. April shifted a little on Quinn’s lap, wondering if he was going to expose her intimate flesh to Austin. Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

But when the hem of her skirt hovered over her upper thighs, he stopped pulling it, and she felt his hand glide over her inner thigh. Goose bumps danced across her sensitive flesh. His hand slid higher, disappearing under her skirt.

“You remember she has no panties on?” Quinn asked.

Austin’s gaze was riveted on her skirt. “How could I fucking forget?”

Quinn laughed again. His fingers grazed her intimate folds, and she sucked in a breath. He stroked over them. His quickening breath whispered across her neck, sending wisps of hair fluttering over her skin. Then he slid deeper into her folds, finding the dampness just inside.

“Fuck, man,” Quinn said. “She’s wet. This is definitely turning her on.”

Pleasure quivered through her as Quinn stroked a few times. When his fingers slipped away, she stifled a murmur of protest. Quinn held up his fingers, and they were glistening with her dewy arousal. Austin licked his lips as if longing to taste her.

“I think Austin might be ready for you now, baby. Go over and pull out his cock, then show him how much you want him.”

“Yes, sir.” She stood up and walked toward Austin.

Austin watched her approach and kneel in front of him. She pressed her hand against his chest, loving the feel of the solid wall of muscle beneath her fingertips. She dragged her fingers down his taut stomach, then lightly over his cock. It twitched at her touch. He still seemed tentative, but didn’t stop her.

She stroked him with a firmer pressure. He was thick and hard beneath her hand. She stared at the growing bulge, longing to bring it out where she could see it. Oh, God, she wanted to feel his shaft, hot and naked, in her hands. She unzipped his pants, then shifted her gaze to his.

“May I touch your big cock, sir?” she asked in as seductive a voice as she could.

His jaw twitched, but he nodded.

She slid her hand inside his pants and found the hot, hard rod. She drew it out and stared at it. The head was purple and as big as a plum. Veins pulsed along the side of the shaft.

“God, it’s so hard and thick,” she said, stroking it in awe.

The feel of it throbbing in her hand delighted her. She loved that he was so aroused by her.

“I want to take it in my mouth. May I do that, Mr. Wright, sir?” Her gaze was locked with his.

“Just call me Austin,” he said, his voice tense with need. “Not sir.”

“Of course. May I take it in my mouth, Austin? I really want to suck on it,” she said persuasively.

“Fuck,” he said tightly, his need overcoming his reluctance. “Just do it.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his tip. He groaned at the contact. She slid out her tongue and lapped at him. She swirled it around the ridge at the base of the crown.

His fingers slid into her hair, tangling in the long strands. She opened her mouth and glided her lips down his cockhead. Taking him in slowly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.”