“Oh, I thought you said you didn’t want any. I’m sorry.“ But she made no move to get up and get me a glass. She just started asking questions ...gain. How many women had I gone out with since my divorce? Was there anyone serious? Was I unhappy? Lonely? I answered her questions. I figured she was heading somewhere, and I’d just wait and see where. We’d already done all the polite conversation. She sat back and crossed her legs. “Stand up, she said.“ What? That seemed a little odd. Maybe it’s her. Don’t want to disturb you yet. My tongue licks the underside, just under the ridge of the head, where I know you are sensitive. I can see your cock jump a little, but you don’t stop stroking. Your breathing is harder now, moans become louder, longer. Your hand pumps faster, body tensing. Your other hand has left your chest and is clutching at the sheet. I run my tongue over the head once again, slowly lowering my mouth to take you in. Your hand stills. And I take more of. More

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