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He kept his gaze on me while I removed his jeans and then his underwear. But the moment I took his cock in one hand and his balls in the other, his eyes drifted closed. He shivered and moaned, his fingers lightly tangling in my hair. Before I dipped my head, I saw his lips part.
He knew I couldn't last long with that kind of torture. Not wanting to give in just yet, I bit my lip, trying to tamper the inevitable mewling that always resulted from this kind of foreplay.
But it was hard to keep my concentration with my head jerking slightly from shivers at each caress. Several times, my desperate sounds escaped through my gaping mouth.
Then I was twisting from side to side. Whimpering but refusing to ask him if I could come. to say what I'd been holding back. The vibrations stopped, leaving me panting. grateful.
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I arched my hips to let him know. Chris's fingers were in my hair again, and I tilted my chin up. He just kept staring into my eyes. So I stared back, studying the blue depths that grew brighter again in the light from the bedside lamp.
That was obviously our busiest time of the year. Then it always tapered off by the end of January only to pick back up in May and June to get those bodies ready for summer.
Ah, the circle of gym life. Despite the changes in my expected plans, I still anticipated Thanksgiving Day.
I grabbed my jeans and sat on the edge of the bed. "Is it the same spot as last year?" "It should be. We'll find out when we get there. Don't put those on, I brought your khakis.