He watches every movement, his hand stroking his cock in tandem. His cock looks enormous even compared to Miles’s large hand.
“Taste how sweet you are,” he says.
I lift my fingers to my lips.
He’s right—the taste is mild and slightly sweet. He wasn’t lying when he said how much he loved it.
“Now come here,” he says.
I walk over to him, unsteady on my heels because my whole body feels warm and loose, my joints made of rubber.
I drop down on my knees in front of Miles, sliding between his legs. I want to see that cock up close. I want to touch it.
I take it from Miles’ hands, running my fingers lightly up the shaft. The skin is smooth and silky, the flesh beneath throbbing hot. When I touch the head, his whole cock twitches like it has a mind of its own.
I run my tongue from base to tip, just like I did with my fingers. It jolts even harder this time. His flesh is like hot tea, the warmest it could be without burning my tongue.
I close my mouth over the head, and his cock fills the space perfectly, like the two were meant for each other. The head lays heavy on my tongue, filling the arch at the roof of my mouth. Saliva floods in, so I can slide my lips a few inches up and down the shaft.
“That’s right. Just like that, get it nice and wet,” Miles instructs me.
My technique is awkward, the rhythm jerky. Miles takes my head between his hands and directs me, using his hips to thrust into my mouth. He thrusts a little too far and the head of his cock hits the back of my throat. I gag and pull back.
“You okay?” he says.
I nod, swiping the back of my hand across my cheek where tears run down.
Weirdly, I like the feeling of gagging. I like how big his cock is, I like the challenge of trying to fit it in my mouth.
I try again. This time I’m catching the rhythm, figuring out how to dance my tongue across the underside of his cock while I slide my lips up and down the shaft.
Miles groans with pleasure, his head tilted back against the edge of the sofa. The sound is highly gratifying. It makes me want to do this all night long.
Miles has other ideas.
“Climb on,” he orders, taking my wrist and pulling me to my feet.
He pushes his trousers the rest of the way down, kicking them off. His cock stands upright again, impossibly erect. I straddle his lap, balanced up on my knees on the sofa, wondering how in the fuck this is going to work.
“Lower yourself down,” he says. “Go as slow as you need to.”
He positions the head of his cock at my entrance. It’s burning hot, wet with my saliva, but so big that I feel like I’m about to impale myself on a baseball bat.
Miles grips my hips between his hands, helping to steady me.
He kisses me. Then he tilts his head to the side and takes my breast in his mouth. He suckles on my breast, rolling the nipple across his tongue.
My wetness melts down on the head of his cock, helping it slide inside of me. Bit by bit, Miles lowers me down.
I keep waiting for a popping or tearing sensation, but it never comes. I slide down and down what feels like a foot of cock, yet somehow I keep stretching to accommodate it. The feeling isn’t painful—quite the opposite. It’s intensely satisfying. Everything I ever wanted.
At last my ass is all the way down to his thighs, and he’s all the way inside me. I feel full in a way that’s indescribable. I feel whole and complete.
Miles lets go of my breast to kiss me again, his tongue as deep inside my mouth as his cock is deep in my belly.
His mouth has a new, erotic taste, our arousal as palpable a flavor as vanilla or honey. I want to eat his tongue and his lips. I want to consume him whole.
Miles grips my hips and starts to rock me against him. I hadn’t realized we weren’t even moving yet. This new friction is so intense that my mouth breaks away from his because I can’t concentrate on anything except the feeling of his cock sliding a few inches in and out of me. My clit grinds against his body. The combination of sensations, inside and out, is the best thing since peanut butter and jelly. Something so good and so right that all other metaphors pale by comparison.
The feeling inside me is scary intense. It’s so powerful that I know I can’t control it. I’m afraid I’m going to wet myself, or cry, or something even more embarrassing.
“Miles!” I gasp. “I can’t stop!”
“I don’t want you to stop,” he growls. “I’m telling you not to.”
His powerful hands grip me all the harder, and he rubs me against his body like he’s paper and I’m an eraser. Waves of pleasure radiate out of my navel, thick and hot. The climax builds and builds, each stroke more pleasurable than the one before. It’s getting too strong, becoming too much. I’m frightened, and yet I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. I might be on top, but Miles controls this. And Miles doesn’t stop for anything.
“Oh . . . oh . . . OH MY GOD!” I scream, as the orgasm rips through me.
It’s an explosion. A detonation. A Krakatoa blast.
It’s so intense that I think I might actually have injured myself. There’s no way my ovaries survived that.
Miles just chuckles, his laugh as deep and warm as his voice. I collapse against him, feeling the rumble in his chest vibrating against mine.
“You like that, baby girl?” he says.
The climax hasn’t dampened my arousal whatsoever. Miles ordering me around, Miles calling me baby, is still an intense turn-on.
“What do you want now?” I whisper in his ear.
“You really want to know?” he says.
“Yes,” I say, licking my lips. “Tell me how to please you.”
“Stay right where you are,” he says. “And ride that cock for me.”
Bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders, I roll my hips, sliding up and down on his cock. It’s awkward at first, but soon I get the rhythm of it. I’m still sensitive and swollen, almost painfully so. As I keep moving and grinding on him, pleasure overtakes the pain, and it feels better and better by the minute.
“You trust me?” Miles says.
“Yes,” I nod.
Miles reaches up with his big hands and closes them around my throat. He does it gently, applying only light, even pressure. Even so, my head begins to swim.
“Keep riding,” he orders.
The power Miles has over me is heady and terrifying. He literally holds my life in his hands. I know that if he wanted to cut off my air, there’s nothing I could do to stop him.
My blood thunders harder than ever, concentrating in my pussy while my head floats high and light.
The harder I ride him, the more intense the sensation becomes. Miles’ eyes are locked on mine, his powerful hands squeezing around my throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to put me entirely under his control. I’m dizzy and hot, and I can’t stop, I’m bucking my hips, feeling that intense warmth and pressure in my belly again, that feeling like I’m going to erupt. Nothing on this earth can stop it.
I cum again, even harder than before. My brain soars and I’m delirious, bright flashes of color popping in front of my eyes. Miles lets out a roar that I can barely hear in the midst of my own ecstasy. His cock twitches and pulses, slamming deep inside of me, forcing out one last burst of pleasure for him and for me.
When I come back down to earth, I can’t see or speak. I take huge gasps of air, the oxygen tasting like pure, cool mountain air in my lungs.