Excerpt from a Work in Progress (part two)

Chapter One takes place in the summer time; chapter seven is closer to Christmas. Joe is still on the scene, but less obviously; and Cassie has moved on as well. She knows exactly what she is doing!

CHAPTER SEVEN
I flinched as Steve’s fingers pulled my lips apart, but then relaxed as the first warm, wet sweep of his tongue. I held my breath as it flicked to within an ace of my clit, but the moment passed, and his enthusiastic lapping seemed to concentrate everywhere but the one place I most needed it.

Gently, I reached down and placed my own finger on the swollen nub, careful not to hit him as I flicked it, but hoping… almost praying… that he would get the message. He didn’t, but when I finally came, the broad smile that lit up his surfacing face made the deception seem completely worthwhile.

“That was amazing,” I breathed as I kissed his juice soaked mouth. “But now it’s my turn.” Sliding off the bed, and pulling his legs down with me, I knelt on the floor, my arms on his thighs and, at last, took his swollen cock in my hand. It looked even bigger in the daylight, but beautiful too. Not quite sure whether I was meant to or not, but certain that’d say something if I did anything wrong, I drew the flesh down, pulling back the foreskin that was stretched so tightly across the tip, until the whole head gleamed before me, a mushroom of flesh that I had to explore. I bent my head towards it slowly, my mouth opening slightly to admit it - and then shrieked as the single dark eye in the tip opened wide and twitched, then spat a great glob of come onto my chin.

Now he was apologizing, desperately, painfully, pleadingly, and I wasn’t sure why – for coming so soon? Or for spattering my face? Either way, I hushed him, not with words or a gesture, but by taking his softening cock in my mouth, clasping my hands against his buttocks, and holding that sticky hot flesh as tightly as I could, feeling it shrink and my head moving forward, until my nose was pressed against his stomach, and his balls hung tight against my chin, and his flavors danced against my taste-buds, some bitter, some salty, some sweet and all heavenly. Maybe, once again, things hadn’t gone as planned. But I was determined to enjoy myself, regardless.

He’d met me outside Borders as arranged – it was funny how, even after the disappointments of Wednesday evening, I was so willing to go back to his apartment again. Unfinished business, I told myself at the time, but after last night with Maureen, there was more to it than that. She’d said I had natural abilities – to do what, I wasn’t yet certain. But if she sensed a power in me, one that I had not yet discovered, then I needed to learn to harness it, and her diary had shown me the most effective way.

Trial and error, she warned, and I knew she was right, even as Steve poured out two cups of instant coffee, then sat down on the bed alongside me, clutching his mug as though his life was bound up in it, and making the kind of small talk (I knew from past boyfriends) that made it clear that he only had one thing on his mind.

I prized the cup from his hand, placed it carefully on the carpet beside mine. The little electric fire was on, kicking out at least a modicum of heat, and I slipped my fingers between his. “At least we don’t need all the covers, this time.” His free arm draped my shoulders. “I didn’t know if you’d fancy going out later? There’s a great takeaway at the top of the road.”

“Later, maybe.” I disengaged myself and crossed the room to where his CD collection lay neatly stacked along one wall. “I didn’t even notice these the other night. There must be hundreds.”

He shrugged. “I need to weed through them at some point. There’s a lot of stuff here I don’t even play any more.”

“Hang onto them,” I said, then pulled out a Fleetwood Mac CD. “Well, most of them, anyway.” I was impressed; he kept them in strict alphabetical order, and yes, he had Garbage. “Can I put it on?”

“Sure, yeah.” He lay back across the bed, his back against the wall, relaxing for the first time since I arrived; I rose and joined him, lying on one side, an arm draped across his stomach. “I’m glad you came,” he whispered. “I’m glad I’m here,” I replied and then, before this could turn into one of those maddening conversations that fill space between two people who think it needs to be filled (I’m glad you’re glad… I’m glad you’re glad I’m glad) I kissed him hard, he kissed me back and, as clothes fell away and hands grew ever bolder, I broke away and gazed down at him.

There’s something so exciting about seeing someone’s body for the first time, and I don’t mean that sexually. Well, not purely sexually. New moles to make jokes about, new hairy patches to puzzle about, new muscles to watch in motion. And, of course, new tastes and sensations, as I discovered about half an hour later, kneeling on the carpet between his open legs, with his now flaccid prick still clenched firmly in my mouth.

I released it, rocked back on my thighs for a moment, then rejoined him on the bed.
We lay on his bed, not talking, just hugging, occasionally shifting to offer a kiss. Between my legs, I could feel his saliva and my pussy juice still pooling in my groin, and I rolled over a little to relieve the stickiness. Steve rolled too, and kissed me between the shoulder blades, once, twice, three times… then slowly, he started moving down my back, raining light, insistent kisses on my skin. I lay without moving, just enjoying the moment; sighing gently as his tongue joined the game, tracing tiny circles in my flesh, then flicking down to a fresh spot.

He reached the small of my back, then tentatively kissed the top of one buttock. It tickled a little, and I gasped as his tongue traced a line down one cheek, then the other; paused and then reappeared in the valley between them.

A light flashed on in my mind… “really?”… as the firm, damp warmth traced further down, and his hands gently gripped me and pulled my ass cheeks open. Down, down… I could feel his breath on my ass-hole, cooling flesh that my juices had liberally soaked, and I held my breath.

The moment seemed endless. For what seemed like hours, but was probably just a few seconds, I hung there in unbelievable suspense. And then… a light tickling, a curious warmth, a feeling like something was somewhere it had never been before… inching, pushing, probing, testing. I didn’t dislike it in the slightest… but I wasn’t sure if I liked it either, it felt so strange. “Come up here again,” I whispered, and I felt him move back up the bed. I kissed him carefully; would he smell, or even taste like an ass-hole? No – and that was a relief.

So, nudging against my thigh, was the weight of his cock, as it slowly came back to life. I reached down and stroked it. “I don’t know what you were doing down there,” I whispered. “But you may have to do it again sometime.”

Again that puppy-dog smile. “I’m glad you liked it,” he replied and, for a moment, I wondered if he might have had something else to add (“some girls don’t” would have been my guess), but he remained silent, closing his eyes as my fingers squeezed the tip of his cock, coaxing it towards even greater grandeur. “But now I want you to do something else for me.”

I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to fuck him, although I’d seen the condoms waiting expectantly under his pillow. I wasn’t going to stay the night, either. But I was going to give him something that – I hoped – he’d never forget, and I knew that I wouldn’t either.

Use your mind, not your body. “I want you to close your eyes, and I don’t want you to think about anything. Just relax.” I shifted my position, and leaned to kiss his foot. He twitched slightly, as though expecting a tickle, and I ran my tongue lightly across the sole. “Relax,” I repeated. “Just empty your head.”

I kissed the other foot, ran my tongue around his toes and up to his ankle. Up his calf, to trace circles on the skin, and then back to his other foot and, this time, a little higher up his leg. Slowly, painstakingly, no need to rush, although I could see his erection straining now, rising from the belly where it lay as though beckoning me to come closer. I lifted his leg, licked behind his knee; replaced it and did the same thing to the other. He groaned and I “ssshed” him gently, as my mouth moved to the edge of his thigh.

His legs parted a little and I bent my head further, to trace a thin line of saliva up towards his groin. I could smell him now, that musky tang that set my pulse racing harder, and the urge to possess him was almost overpowering now. But I fought back and transferred my attentions to the other thigh, slowing my pace and my movements now, so that every flick of my tongue became a concentric circle, whorls of touch that were driving me crazy, and I could only imagine what they were doing to Steve.

His cock was standing at full attention and I could not resist directing a breath towards it. Another groan. How much more of this could he take? I traced a finger across his ballbag, amazed at its softness, fascinated by its tightness, and this time he gasped aloud. I extended my tongue, licked at the flesh, then pressed my lips closer to suck, to draw the skin and maybe a ball into my mouth.

“Oh my God, Cassie…” he was positively raving now, and I released my prize, sat back for a moment, waited for the storm to pass. “Relax,” I repeated once again. “Like you’re falling asleep.” He moved his lips to reply, but I pressed a finger against them. “No words, no thoughts, nothing. Just quiet and still.” I waited a moment longer, watched as tight muscles visibly softened, and his cock lay itself back on his belly. I gave his balls another soft suck, then released them and traced my tongue up the crease of his groin. His hips shifted a little, but I let it pass. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out either.

Kissing his stomach, tracing my tongue so close to his cock, outlining it in saliva, and now a kiss on the tip as it rose demandingly to press against my face. I touched a finger between my legs. I was dripping and, for a moment, I thought of those condoms just a few inches away. Virgin or no virgin, I was so wet he’d probably slide all the way in without either of us noticing. I thought of something Linton had said, I could make your eyes pop from the inside, and the way I was feeling, they probably would. But not yet. Not today.

Steve’s cock was resting in my hand now and I don’t know if it’s possible for them to grow bigger every time, but he had. I held him gently. I’d come too far to let him just explode in my hand; too far not to feel that exquisite steel deep in my mouth – and keep it there. I licked the tip, let my tongue roam all across it, then down, tracing around the thick meaty ridge, onto the shaft where the veins bulged like muscles and his pulse danced the samba against my kiss.

“Oh fuck, Cassie!” He was sitting up now, his face flushed, his eyes wide, boring into my face. I gently laid his cock back down, slowly slipped one finger between my legs – oh my God, the merest touch and I was almost coming – then placed it between his lips. He sucked greedily, almost swallowing my finger, so hard that I had to fight to retrieve it. “Tell me what you want,” I whispered.

“I want to come,” he panted. “Please.” His hand was grasping his cock now, angling it towards me.

“Wrong answer,” I said, pulling his hand free and laying it back by his side. I kissed him on the mouth. “All you have to do is lie back.” And I began again, kissing down his body this time, through the downy hair and occasional wire that bristled from his chest, tonguing his nipples, so taut and tiny, gentle bites to the softer flesh of his abdomen and stomach, till I was back where I started, his prick on my palm, my tongue drilling patterns into the skin.

“Now tell me what you want.”

“Put it in your mouth.” He voice was barely audible. “Please. Suck me.”

He was slick with salvia and his own transparent juices; they jangled on my lips as I gently enfolded the head between my lips. My hands were on his stomach; I held him upright with my mouth and could feel his strength against my jaw. I inched down a little, to prevent him from slipping away, and then a little more. His breathing was regular now, interspersed with tiny gasps as my tongue lolled beneath his shaft and I continued my downward motion, curious how deep I could take him, and what would happen when I got there.

I thought of earlier, how I’d felt him soften in my mouth and had accepted his full length once that had happened. Now – I didn’t have a ruler, but I was barely holding an inch, maybe two. Slowly I drew my head up, steadying him with two fingers clenched at the root of his rod, then sank down again. He exhaled deeply; inhaled as I slipped up again, squeaked as I nipped with my teeth.

My jaw was tiring; I used my tongue, flicking across his helmet, and the back for me and he slipped deeper this time, giving me more to hang onto, more to suck – how I loved to suck, feeling his flesh ripple as my lips tightened around him, hearing his breathing grow faster and faster.

I glanced around the room for the clock. An hour had passed since I kissed his first toe, yet it slipped by like seconds. How much longer could he possibly keep erect? How much longer before… my head was bobbing faster now, as though it already knew the answer, and my hands were on his hips, my nails embedded into his flesh as they began their own bucking dance and I knew it was time – and still it astounded me, as wave upon wave flooded my mouth, and I was swallowing hard, but there was simply too much. My lips parted around his jerking stiffness and I felt the pressure against my gums lighten slightly, felt the hot come and saliva as it pooled on my hand, but still it came, and I had to let go, to surface for air as his come clung to my tongue and teeth, and I swallowed the last of it, then licked my lips clean.

Steve lay like a corpse, eyes closed, hair wild, limbs scattered across the bed. Puddles of sperm spattered his thighs, dried in his pubes, still dribbled from his prick. I wiped more from my chin, and some drops from my breasts. There’d never been that much when he’d come in the past. “What, do you keep a special reservoir handy for emergencies?”

“Must do,” he answered after a moment. And then, “no-one’s ever done that, like that, before….”

“I should hope not,” I shot back. “Else I might not want to do it again,” and he pulled me alongside him as he lit us each a cigarette. “Any time you want,” he said, “and next time, I’ll try and hold out a little longer before I start begging.”

I laughed. “Maybe I like it when you beg.”