I know you have something interesting in mind when you ask me if I want to play a game. We’ve been together long enough that I know your moods, and the twist of challenge in your eyes -- and in your beautiful smile -- tell me this is going to be a very good day for me.
But as you lay out the cards and settle in to torment me, I wonder if your control is any match for your decadent, wicked mouth. Move by move, moment by moment, you take me apart.
I’m not even sure if I want to win this game.
You kiss me again. This time you are slow and thorough, wrapping me in your arms and holding me close. The knowledge that you are clothed and I am naked is oddly thrilling -- we have done the reverse, but never this -- and I feel strangely safe in the frame of your long arms as you tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Your hands wander the expanse of my back, stroking and soothing. Your lips cling gently to mine, your tongue skimming lightly over mine. You sigh, and the sound is so deep and contented that I know you are exactly where you want to be.
At last you break the kiss, and give my ass a little slap-slap with both your hands -- then another, grinning at the sound it makes. “All right, beautiful,” you say, stepping back. Your mouth is loose and flushed from the long kiss, and your cheeks have brightened. You gesture to the chair in front of the Concentration setup. “Have a seat.”
Awkwardly, I sit. The cool wood of the chair is a gentle shock on my naked skin. You crawl under the table, giving my thigh a little kiss as you pass. I realize, then, what you’re about to do.
You settle yourself in front of me. I can just barely see your smile under the edge of the table, but I hear it in your voice as you say, “You have as long as it takes for me to get you off. Every time you get a match, you win a truffle. If you can get them all without coming, they’re all yours. But, if you come, I win all the ones that are left.” You pause, and then add wickedly, “I think I should make a joke about creamy filling here, but I can’t quite put it together.”
“You can tell me later,” I say, smiling. I scoot the chair in just far enough that I don’t crush you.
Immediately, you lay your big warm hands on my inner thighs. “God, I love your fat little dick,” you say, breathing gently across its head and making me catch my breath. “You’ve got to have the world’s cutest penis.”
I mean to answer -- being a devoted worshipper at the shrine of your penis -- but you forestall any comment by leaning in to close your warm, wet mouth around my entire cock.
I have been mostly flaccid, but this jerks me into full attention. In what feels like only seconds, I am fully hard.
You pull back and let me slip from your mouth. “Let me know when you get a match,” you say, running a fingertip along the underside of my swollen cock. “I need to know how fast to rock your world.”
“You sound very confident.” My voice is a little unsteady.
“Mm. Well, I know you dig a confident man.” You close your lips around me once more and begin to suck.