Read Last Call Online

Authors: M.S. Brannon

Last Call (13 page)

BOOK: Last Call
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Jason watches me touch the ink, holding his breath. There’s a story behind it, but I will probably never know. That falls under the personal category and would be a direct violation of rule number two.

Jason clears his throat then unfastens his pants, situating them enough to get his dick free from his boxer briefs. I gape upon it openly. The last time, I think he wanted me to suck his cock, but I was a little thrown off guard. After all, he’d just mauled me at my job and taken me by surprise. However, tonight, I think I’m ready to give it a try.

I grab his cock and slowly run my palm from the base to the tip. It is so thick, smooth, and long. Actually, it’s quite exquisite. Holy shit, I’ve never thought I’d be saying that. For the longest time, I regarded a penis as a one-eyed Cyclops because of the way they point at you and make you feel really weirded out when you look at one. I thought, if I ever encountered a Cyclops in the wild, I would feel the same.

I move my hand up and down a little bit faster, making my grip a little bit tighter. Jason’s eyes blaze as he watches my hand work him over. As the smallest pearl of come forms on the tip of his dick, I decide this is my moment to try and tackle this bad boy.

I lean down and slowly graze the tip of my tongue along the shaft of his cock then up over the tip. He groans loudly as I secure my lips around him, sheathing my teeth. Gradually and vigilantly, I begin to pull his dick into my mouth while working my hand simultaneously. My mouth, hand, and rhythm are working in unison as I morph into my former, slutty college persona. I was known around campus for my spectacular blowjobs, and gauging by Jason’s reaction, I’ve still got it.

I smile. Damn right I’ve got it. I’m the best at it. Shit, I should get an award for how freaking good I am at sucking a guy’s cock. Then again, I probably don’t want to know how one would qualify to win an award like that.

I keep up my assault, inwardly gleaming from knowing Jason is enjoying every second of it. Suddenly, he jerks my mouth off him and pulls a condom out of his jeans pocket. He quickly rolls it on then guides me onto his lap. I put my thighs on either side of his then slowly ease my body down, feeling full and heated.

I remain still across his legs and take a moment to enjoy the sensation he gives me. I am overwhelmed when I’m with Jason. I know this kind of relationship is not meant to last—it’s meant to be fun—but I can’t imagine giving this feeling up. Jason’s body fits so well into mine. We are perfectly fused together and can give each other pleasure from a solitary movement of our bodies.

Finally, I succumb and start to ride him, moving my pelvis up and back down. Each time feels better than the first, and I know I won’t last long as my nerves are already firing with tingly delight.

Jason yanks on the straps of my bra and pulls my breasts out, cupping both of them in his hand. He pulls me closer to him and sucks them, his warm, wet tongue circling around my nipple. The feeling of his strong hands holding my breasts ignites me. The moment his teeth gently wrap around my nipple, I lose all control.

My body starts to grind quickly against his, rocking out a rhythm of ecstasy until I come hard. My world begins to spin and my body starts to quiver. I arch my back, thrust my breasts even closer to his face, and then fall backwards until my back hits the glass partition. I am lost in a sea of sensations as I try to recover from the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Then my body yields to exhaustion, and I slump forward limply against his chest.

Jason grabs my hips and violently starts to slam inside of me. The rough intensity of his movements causes me to awaken once again. Then I explode. I’m officially spinning in a rapid vortex of pleasure, simply drunk with this connection between us.

Jason lets out a guttural moan of pleasure as he surrenders to his own orgasm. He encases me in his arms, pressing our naked, slick skin even closer together, and I fall into his embrace comfortably. It feels good to lie here and just enjoy a moment of bliss with Jason. This is the third time we’ve had sex and the only time where I wasn’t immediately putting my clothes on again. Ah, I think I can get used to this kind of relationship.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

J
ason

I
t’s been the best and most relaxing four weeks of my life. After Mariah and I decided to establish our relationship, we spent three hours in the back of my Escalade. We didn’t have much conversation except what I was directing her to do with her body. She was more than willing, and when I ran out of condoms, we had some oral fun.

I can safely say this is one of the best relationships I’ve ever had. Come to think of it, it’s the only relationship I’ve had. Mariah is not concerned about where we are going or what we are doing. She is only interested in getting her orgasm and being on her way.

I cannot believe I didn’t think about having a relationship like this before. I mean, how much easier could this be? However, when I think about it, a fuck buddy type of friendship could not have worked with anyone else. She is not the clingy type of girl, and let’s face it, all the fucking girls I’ve been with expect more out of me other than a good lay. I have always had to wine and dine the bitches before I’d get in their pants. Every once in a while, I’d have a quickie in the club, but mostly, I’d give them a little preview of what’s to come. Then I’d take them on a date, bring the girls back to my office above Toxic, and then I’d fuck them.

I’ve never taken anyone to my house, not even colleagues I work with, and especially not a woman I fuck. I don’t have friends, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t allow them in my house, either. That is my sanctuary and the only place I can be at peace. Besides, if I allowed myself to have friends, they wouldn’t be real—they’d be fake. They would be the ones who’d simply want something from me, and I’d get emptiness in return.

I don’t reach out to anyone, but I reached out to Mariah. I saw something in her the first night I dreamt of her seven long years ago. She was the goddess of my dreams, and now, I’m not sure what she is. I’m definitely enjoying whatever it is, though.

 

 

 

M
ariah

“I need a girl’s night!” Shelby is whining while she joins Royce and me for supper.

I worked until seven and decided to pay Shelby in pasta. She loves my homemade ravioli, and it’s the least I can do for all of her help.

“Don’t you miss hanging out with us? You know, like we used to?” she asks and I smile.

“Of course I do, but I have to work one weekend a month, and I can’t sacrifice any more time away from Royce. We could make plans when he gets out of school. Jerrica’s wedding is the first weekend in June, and I was planning on letting Royce stay with my parents for a week,” I offer, knowing she will not be the only one wanting to spend time with me.

“But that’s so far away.” She has eaten ten bites of ravioli to my one, making me wonder how she never gets heartburn from eating so fast.

“It’s not that far, Shelby. Like, two months. And besides, you’ve been busy with your new guy, right?”

I look over to Royce, who’s building a house with his ravioli. “Baby, are you done?”

“Yes!” he shouts then takes his plate to the kitchen and runs to his bedroom.

“So tell me how it is going with…” I look over to her, unable to remember the man’s name, which makes me a horrible friend because she’s been fond of this guy for like a month and that’s incredibly long for her. I’ve been far too engrossed in Jason’s kingdom to keep anything straight anymore.

“Gabe, Mariah. His name is Gabe. And things are, well… just perfect so far. He’s so amazingly hot. His body is covered in tattoos and his muscles are just the right size. But what blows me away is he’s completely different from anyone I’ve been with.”

I look to Shelby and smile. Could it possibly be true? Has she finally learned how to be with a man for more than just a sexual relationship? Who am I kidding? I’ve never been in a relationship except for the one I had in high school, and I was just a kid then. Now, all I have is sex. Nothing more and nothing less, just sex. Hmmm… I’m not sure how I feel about that. The word whore snaps to the back of my mind again, and once again, I do my best to ignore the inner self-condemnation.

“You remember Kyle, right?” she asks. I shake my head in wonder, remembering his preppy boy exterior. However, who would’ve thought he was a freak, or gay for that matter. “I know. He was all proper and rich, and then, behind closed doors, he wanted me to fuck him in the ass with a strap on. I mean, I did it because I always wanted to know what it was like to be a man, but when he was squealing out pleasure like a damn woman, I knew our time was done.”

“Didn’t you guys have a three way?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm, but all I want to do is bust out in sidesplitting laughter. Are we really discussing strap-ons and three ways over pasta? We sure are. It’s typical dinner conversation when Shelby is invited to the table.

“Oh, fuck yeah, we did. He was all about me being worshiped, and I was more than open for a gang bang situation. I just imagined a long, pink dick fucking me in the front and another in the back ramming me in the ass.” I cringe in pain, while Shelby is getting flushed with her vision. “I was drooling over the thought of our little adventure. However, I was ill-prepared to watch him get his ass drilled by the dude while I maybe got my tits squeezed every once in a while.”

I cannot hold in my laughter any longer and it bursts out, almost making me spit my chewed ravioli out. I remember when Shelby first told us that story; Giselle had to run to the bathroom because she was going to literally pee herself if she didn’t. Fucking Shelby was so pissed that her boyfriend at the time ended up being gay. She claimed she turned him that way, declaring no other pussy was good enough for him. Giselle and I tried to explain to her it was something he’d always been, but Shelby liked her
no pussy will ever compare
story better.

“I wouldn’t doubt it if that Jason guy is the same way. He’s commanding and all man, but I bet he likes to get plowed in the ass.” Of course, just as I’m taking a drink, Shelby decides to say something so utterly shocking I choke.

My body is reacting to me inhaling soda, as I gag and cough. I slowly regain my breath and wipe the tears from my eyes before taking another drink.

“Damn it, dude!” She backs up like I’m going to puke all over her.

What the hell? Oh, man, if Shelby only knew how not gay Jason was. I’d love to share stories of the way his smooth, deep southern drawl sends tingles down my spine as he’s sliding in and out of me. I’d love her to know just how endearing his laugh is, and how his eyes gleam when he smiles. How he only smiles those perfect smiles or laughs those perfect laughs when it’s just us. Him and I in our own little Escalade shaped bubble.

As my thoughts are consumed with him, I get this longing feeling in my chest. For the first time, I can actually admit to myself that I miss him. Not just his touch, either. I miss his black eyes, bright smile, and the little glimpse of his vulnerable side. Fuck, I miss him. Damn, I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“Well, from the two times I was with him, I didn’t get that vibe at all,” I say, knowing when you’re having sex with Jason Cain the only vibe you’ll get is one of pure satisfaction. I love the way he worships my body and wants to push my sexual boundaries. He guides me with his deep, southern voice and encourages me to simply let go and be with him. I love every single moment with Jason.

“I do have to admit something is different about you. You seem less crotchety and happier. Did those two measly times you spent with Jason heal your cancerous attitude that much?” Shelby shoves another fork full of pasta in her mouth then proceeds to tuck it in her cheek as she begins to talk around it. “I mean, before, when we’d talk about guys or having sex, you’d cringe and have something smart to say, but now you’re all smiley and wanting to listen. What gives?”

I want to scream to her that I am with Jason, and we’ve formed an insanely addictive sexual relationship. I want to tell her we are fuck buddies, but my heart is starting to grow fond of him. I want to tell my best friends that we meet up before I go to work and fuck in the confines of his office. Or in the black of night, we fuck in the back seat of his SUV. I want to tell my friends that I am so overwhelmed with the intensity I feel when I’m with him. I want to tell them, by the time this meaningless relationship is over, I will be heartbroken because, as hard as I try not to, Jason is becoming important to me. I’m not sure if I can call it love or merely friends; nonetheless, the growing feelings are there.

I open my mouth, attempting to change the subject, when Giselle walks into my apartment with a bottle of wine and a big smile on her face. She has a gleam shining from her cheeks and is giggling like a schoolgirl. “Guess who just landed the Cain Management account with our PR firm?”

BOOK: Last Call
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