Twisted-Games

make me forget the rule I’d imposed.
No fucking.
I untied her and stroked the faint red marks where the strings had dug into
her skin.
Bridget lay in a boneless heap on the bed, but when I moved to get off the
bed, she stopped me.
“You’re forgetting something.” She stared at the obvious bulge in my
shorts.
“Trust me, I’m not forgetting anything.” It was hard to forget when it was
so hard it could hammer nails.
“Then let me take care of that for you.”
I sucked in a breath when her fingers brushed against me. “That wasn’t
part of the plan.”
“The plan changed.” Bridget pulled down my shorts, her eyes widening
as she took in my size.
“Bridget…” My protest morphed into a groan when she wrapped her
hands around me.
“You said my name.” She flicked her tongue over the head of my cock
and lapped up the beads of pre-cum before she took me fully in her mouth.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
Everything had ceased to exist except for her warmth around my cock,
and I was pretty sure heaven itself couldn’t feel better than this.
My blood coursed through my veins like liquid fire, and my heart pumped
with a mixture of lust and something else I’d rather not name as I tangled my
hands in Bridget’s hair.
So fucking beautiful.
She tried to fit all of me down her throat, but I was too big or the angle
too awkward. She let out a small, muffled sound of frustration, and I rasped
out a laugh before I withdrew and repositioned her until she lay on her back
again.
“Tell me if it’s too much.” I slid the tip of my cock across her lips before
I nudged it into her mouth. I paused every few inches to let her acclimate to
my size until I was finally, blissfully buried all the way down her throat.
Fuck. It wasn’t often I had to rely on my old trick of naming baseball
rosters in my head, but right now, thoughts of the Washington Nationals were
the only thing keeping me from cutting our night short.
Bridget choked and sputtered, her eyes welling with tears, and I pulled