A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

He stopped in front of a nondescript door at the end of a hall filled with nondescript doors. They didn’t even have numbers on them.

“Well, anyway, most guys just jam in their tongue and take over your mouth. Or they stick their tongue out and, like…try to play with yours. I don’t know, it’s not great. But she teased and kissed with lips and only went deep with the tongue when we started touching and shedding clothes.”

“Hmm. Mmhmm. Tell me more.”

I laughed as he carried me into a little chamber with a curtain across the space in front of us, like a changing room. He put me down and delicately stripped the robe from my shoulders.

“What did you do after shedding clothes?” he asked, sucking in a breath when he saw what was under the robe. “Oh, baby, this is nice. Great goddess above, I know you don’t like to hear it, but you are so beautiful. So perfect.”

I laid my hands on his chest and slid them down to his stomach. “I like hearing it from you. I know you see more than just my face and tits. Anyway…”

“Yes, tell me more about this experience while I fondle you.” He ran his hands over my breasts and down the silky fabric, gliding them over my hips next. They went along my butt and up my back, outlining my body, touching and feeling sensually.

I closed my eyes and savored the feeling. “She kissed down my skin, and I can remember closing my eyes and my body getting hot. Her touch was so light over my flesh, and when she gently flicked my nipple and hesitantly sucked on it, I couldn’t help just lying back. It felt so good. It, like…speared all the way down to my pussy.”

He moaned softly, kissing down my neck now, pressing his hardness against me but not going further.

“Wait, why is it okay to hear about women touching me but not men?”

He paused in his movements. “I honestly have no idea. Maybe because I know you romantically lean toward men? And therefore women, especially in your past, aren’t a threat?”

“Well, after she spent a glorious amount of time on my breasts, I was really turned on. I would’ve let her do almost anything. Then she started kissing down to my navel. I got a bit nervous, but I was also turned on, like I said…”

“Mhm, mhm. Go on…”

“Her fingers…” I closed my eyes, remembering. “They skimmed so lightly, and I was so hot from her touching. It drove me crazy. The nervousness fell away. She crawled between my thighs and gave me these…feathered kisses, her lips skimming my flesh. I remember I was writhing and squirming and panting. And finally she got to my pussy and licked up my slit and just…like…savored it all. She took to me like you do, but lighter and more teasing. It built the anticipation, and when I thought I was going crazy, she sucked harder, and I fucking…fell apart. It was the first real orgasm anyone had ever given me. It was sensational.”

“Did you return the favor?”

“I…tried. First with her nipples and then with her pussy, but it wasn’t really my thing. I mean, sucking dick isn’t a great thing in general, but something happens when it’s someone I want to please. I did want to please her as a friend, but…”

“Your heart wasn’t in it.”

“Yeah. I mean, I tried, but she ended up stopping me and treating me to more of her pleasure. She wasn’t getting it from me. I felt bad about it at first, but then I was on the road to another orgasm— Fuck, I was being a dude. I just took, took, took, accepting the orgasms she gave me without returning the favor because I was bad at it. Damn it, now I feel like a real asshole. No wonder she didn’t want to do that with me anymore.”

“That’s a really bad ending to the story,” he said with a slight smirk. “That’s a tragic story, not an erotic romance story.”

“It gets worse. About a year later, she realized I was becoming a social pariah because of the way I dressed and my interest in hunting, and she stopped being my friend. She started throwing insults and talking shit. I didn’t have many friends before her, and after that, I had hardly any.”

He looked down on my face, stroking my chin. “That is a horrible story, and now I feel bad about life, and I hope you never take to writing romance novels.”

I blurted out a laugh, propelling tiny droplets of spit onto his face.

“Yes, spitting in my face about sums up the ending of that story.” He wiped his face, and I laughed harder.

With a little chuckle, he leaned down and kissed me lightly on the nose.