“I know how much of a struggle it is for you to stop being gross,” Jazz taunts, “but my cock’s feeling a bit neglected…”
And there it is again—Jazz’s hard, uncut cock hovering mere inches from my face. He’s not as big as me—which isn’t particularly surprising after some of his comments—but he certainly doesn’t have anything to be insecure about. I guess that probably shouldn’t be all that surprising either.
It looks fucking enormous now, though; I’ve never seen another dick up this close before, let alone an erect one and I can’t help staring in rapt fascination at the precum dribbling from the flushed, swollen head as Jazz guides it closer and closer to my mouth.
He tightenshis grip in my hair again and my mind flashes to the survey earlier when he mentioned shoving me to my knees and fucking my throat. I let out a groan of anticipation at the thought of being used in that way; but there are also a few tendrils of apprehension curling around me because that thing is freakin’huge.
Jazz tilts my head back slightly, his grip commanding but not quite as rough as I would have expected. “Open wide.”
I dutifully part my lips, but instead of stuffing his cock in my mouth, he just slides the very tip back and forth over my bottom lip.
A fewdrops of precum trickle into my mouth and I groan at the intoxicating taste. Fuck, I want more. I want to taste him properly. I want to run my tongue around his shaft. I want to suck on his cockhead…
Before I’ve even really given it any thought, my head is bobbing forward and my mouth is wrapped around the head of his cock. I’m half-expecting Jazz to grab my hair and yank me back, denying me what I want—which would definitely be a hot consolation prize—but he doesn’t. Instead,he lets me go for it and it doesn’t take long for me to get completely caught up.
Fuck,I have no idea why I’m loving this so much. It’s not degrading in the way Jazz fucking my throat would be, and he’s not acting particularly dominant right now. There’s just something I really like about being on my knees with a dick in my mouth.
“Jesus, no one would ever believe you’ve never sucked a dick before,” Jazz says, a noticeable hitch in his voice. “Proof right here cocksluts are born, not made.”
Strangely,his words don’t induce any sense of shame or embarrassment; instead I feel a surge of giddiness prompting me to moan wildly around his cock as I suck hard on the head.
Cockslut.I hear the word echoing in my head as I continue with the blow job, my curiosity and enthusiasm gradually making me bolder.
“Jesus Christ,” Jazz mutters as I slide my lips down his shaft, taking him farther into my mouth. “You don’t—fuck.”
I ignore whatever he was planning to say and keep going, taking him a little deeper. I like the way it feels having my mouth so full; I wonder what it’d be like to take him all the way down my throat…
As though reading my mind, Jazz grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs my head back; his other hand is wrapped around his cock, which is positioned tantalizingly close to my mouth. “You’rethat desperate to choke on my dick, are you?”
I try to nod but his grip is too tight so instead I manage to rasp out, “Yes.”
And the next thing I know, my mouth is once again full of Jazz’s dick. But this time it doesn’t stop with my mouth. My throat burns and my eyes water as he thrusts in as deep as he can before pulling out and doing it all over again. It’s rough and painful and relentless and I can barely breathe…but I fucking love it.
Way beforeI’m ready for it to end, I hear Jazz let out a soft curse and then his cock is gone from my mouth. He lets go of my hair and I lurch forward, bracing myself on my hands as I sputter and gag and attempt to recover my breath. Once I’ve managed to do that, I lift the hem of my t-shirt and wipe my streaming eyes.
“All good?” Jazz asks, sounding amused.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good. Because I need you to clean up this mess.”
Still feeling a little disorientated after that ordeal, I cast my gaze around in search of the mess in question. It doesn’t take long to spot it. Evidently while I was trying to control my gag reflex Jazz was emptying his load onto the floor.
“You came on the floor,” I say with a pout. “I really wanted you to come on my face. Or in my mouth.”
Jazz offers a wry smirk. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get a taste. And I can rub your face in it if you really want.”
“Huh?”
“I told you to clean up the mess,” he says. “But I might have forgotten the part about using your tongue…”
My eyes widen as I glance at the mess of cum again. The floor hasn’t been mopped after tonight’s service yet so in addition to Jazz’s cum there’s also the sticky residue from various drips and spills that accumulate over the night. But it would have had a thorough cleaning yesterday, and at least everything’s edible; it could definitely be worse.
“Okay…” I crawl the few feet to where Jazz has shot his load, but then I hesitate; am I seriously going tolick the floor?
Before I can decide whether or not I’m actually going to do this Jazz makes the decision for me, grabbing my hair and shoving my face into the mess.
11