Chapter 2: The First Taste
My knees hit the cold tile and a shiver ran up my spine. The kitchen light hummed above us, stark and unforgiving, and I could smell the faint sweat on his skin, the cologne he wore layered over it. I looked up at him, towering over me like a building, and my hands shook as I reached for the waistband of his jeans.
He watched me, dark eyes half-lidded, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Go on," he said. "Don't keep me waiting."
I fumbled with the button, my fingers clumsy and numb. The denim was tight across his thighs, stretched thin over the massive bulge straining against it. I got the button loose, dragged the zipper down, and the sound was loud in the quiet kitchen. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and pulled.
His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, curving slightly upward. I stared at it, my mouth going dry. It was bigger than I had imagined, and I had imagined it plenty. The head was dark and swollen, glistening with a bead of pre-cum, and the shaft was veined and thick as my wrist. My heart hammered so hard I felt it in my throat.
"Like what you see?" he asked, amusement threading through his voice.
I nodded, unable to form words. He chuckled, low and warm, and his hand came down to grip the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.
"Open up then."
I leaned forward, my lips brushing against the hot skin of his shaft. He smelled like soap and salt, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. I parted my lips and took the head in, the weight of it pressing down on my tongue. It was thick, so thick, stretching my jaw almost immediately.
"That's it," he groaned, his hips twitching slightly. "Just like that."
I tried to take more, but my jaw protested, aching at the hinges. I could only fit half of him past my lips before my throat tightened in protest. I gagged, spit spilling down my chin, and pulled back to breathe.
"You gotta do better than that," he said, his grip tightening in my hair. "Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose."
I nodded, taking a shaky breath, and leaned back in. This time I focused on relaxing, on opening my jaw wider, and I managed to take him deeper. The head hit the back of my throat and I gagged again, tears pricking at my eyes. His hand guided my rhythm, steady and insistent, not letting me pull back too far.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rough. "Taking it like you been waiting your whole life for it."
I had been. I just hadn't admitted it to myself until now. His fingers tightened in my hair and he pushed my head down, holding me there for a moment while I struggled, my throat convulsing around him. Then he let up, pulling me off enough to breathe.
"You like that?" he asked.
I gasped, drool stringing from my lips to his cock. "Yes."
"Good." He pushed me back down, harder this time, and I gagged around him, my eyes watering. "You're gonna take all of me tonight, even if it kills you."