Pucked Over (Pucked 3)

They flip open, locking on me as I slowly move his boxers over his hips. I put my lips to his skin and keep the connection. Randy’s semi-hard erection jumps on his stomach.

I glance down. Even in the dim light I can see very clearly the scar that cuts across his lower abdomen. There’s a two-inch gap on his stomach where the scar ceases to exist.

And that’s when I notice the very pale, very significant scar slicing a line across the center of his cock. My eyes flip back up to find him staring at me intently. It’s like he expects me to freak out or something.

I’m not going to lie, my stomach twists. I’m not repulsed, though; I’m stunned. This injury was caused by a skate. And based on the damage, I’m going to have to assume Randy’s lucky to have everything still attached to his body. It’s a damn miracle it still works.

Returning my gaze to his, I grip his cock and press a soft kiss to the top of the scar on his hip. I don’t have to look at it to feel it beneath my lips. I keep kissing until my chin bumps his cock. Then I glance down.

I don’t want to think too much about how horrible it must have been. The line across his cock looks like a frown. I press my lips to it, and Randy shudders. “Does that feel okay?” I whisper against the soft skin.

“Yeah.” Randy clears his throat. His hands are fists again.

This time I part my lips and stroke the shaft with my tongue. Randy grunts, which I take as a good sign. His cock throbs in my hand, growing a little.

I keep kissing, moving from base to tip. Circling the head with my tongue, I make my way back down. The frown has become a straight line. He’s harder now, too.

On my next trip up, I take in the entire head. He keeps growing, getting harder with each shallow stroke. I pop off and lick around the head, then down the shaft again. I think he might be fully hard now. He feels pretty damn solid.

I take him back in my mouth and keep going until the head hits the back of my throat. Randy shoves his hand in my hair. I pause and meet his hot gaze.

“Okay?” I ask with a mouthful of cock.

He seems to understand. “So fucking good,” he rasps.

I smile as much as I can with a dick in my mouth.Chapter 23Reverse BlowjobologyRANDYLily’s mouth is bliss. Those luscious lips are stretched around my cock, and she’s sucking like a goddamn champion. I can’t take my eyes off her as she lets me guide her.

She moans, and the sound vibrates through my body. I keep going—deeper, harder, faster—and she doesn’t seem to mind one bit. She strokes the shaft and cups my balls. The sensation is way more intense than I ever remember it being, although it’s been a lot of years since I had a blow job, so my memories are vague at best.

I’m getting close to coming, faster than usual. One of the perks of having nearly lost half my dick is that I can go for a long time thanks to some loss of sensation. But right now, watching Lily’s mouth makes everything hypersensitive.

“Lily, baby, I’m gonna come soon.” I figure I should warn her so she can make a decision about where she wants that to happen.

Her gaze flips up to mine, and she takes me deeper, sucking harder. I can’t take it anymore. The orgasm checks me to the boards. I shudder violently with the sensation. Lily swallows, God bless her, which makes it even better.

When I’m finally done, she slowly eases off. The cold air is a shock. Lily runs a gentle finger across my cock. She must be touching the scar, because the sensation is muted.

She giggles.

“What’s funny?”

She rests her head on my hip. “Did you know when you’re soft your scar looks like a frown, but when you’re hard it’s a smile?”

“What?”

“The scar makes your cock look happy when it’s hard.”

I bark out a laugh.

She crawls up my body and kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks for letting me do that.”

“You’re thanking me for letting you blow my fucked-up dick?”

“It’s not fucked up.”

“It sure isn’t pretty.”

Lily cocks her head to the side. “Says who? It makes you super badass.”

“You think?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She circles my nipple with her fingertip. “That must have been so painful.”

“It was.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s fine. It’s an old hockey injury. We were kids messing around on the lake. I got into it with a guy a couple years older than me. I wasn’t wearing a cup, and, well, I almost had my dick decapitated.”

“That must’ve been awful. How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

“Oh, God. That would be traumatizing.”