nc-17 | sexual content
Josh has large balls.
Well. They might be average-sized for all she knows. She's never extensively studied the genitalia of her previous lovers, and she's certainly never gotten out a ruler and measured the damn things. The truth is, she's never found the penis to be a particularly attractive bit of anatomy. She likes the way it makes her feel - hell, she loves the way it makes her feel - but she's never been particularly fond of looking at it.
And the rest of his body is fantastically gorgeous, so she usually finds other ways to occupy her eyes.
"Did you fall asleep down there?"
She's lying on her belly, her legs dangling off the bed, and there's something disconcerting about glancing up to look at him with his erection jutting proudly into the air. It blocks out his nose. She crawls up onto her knees; that position was getting uncomfortable, anyway.
"I just got distracted," she says, as she decides that's smarter than telling him she was contemplating how ugly his penis is. Well, not ugly, really -
"If you don't want to, you don't have to." He's sincere, but seeing as he just told her how he had been thinking about this all throughout his meeting - she fears for this country if he's contemplating blowjobs while he's supposed to be working on reducing the debt - she knows he'll be disappointed if she doesn't. Which will result in him moping around the office tomorrow. And it wasn't as if she had to look at it while she had it in her mouth.
As she wraps her lips around him, she thinks that if he knew what she thought about while she was down here, it would probably ruin the experience.
He stops her with a hand on her shoulder and she briefly wonders if he somehow read her mind. He tells her to turn around; she's mildly confused, but she complies, facing his feet with her hips hovering over his. Before she can sink down onto his erection, though, he tells her to get on all fours and scoot back, and then she realizes what he wants. She lets him guide her, stopping when she feels his mouth on her thigh.
Once his tongue starts moving over her, she almost forgets to reciprocate. He mutters something against her folds and she gets back to work. It's pretty much the same as going at it from the other angle, except that this time, his balls are directly in her line of sight. And they seem even larger now. She finds that she can't control her giggles, so she quickly releases him before she bites down on his flesh or chokes to death.
This, unfortunately, causes him to stop attending to her. "I don't know how much more of this my fragile male ego can take."
"Fragile male ego, my ass," she scoffs.
"You want me to do what to your ass?" He reaches up and squeezes it gently. Her laughter dies in her throat, replaced by a soft moan. Then he's probing her with his tongue again, and she almost wishes he wasn't so damn good at this, because it has a bizarre way of making her feel inadequate. She starts going down on him again, closing her eyes so she isn't distracted by other bits of his anatomy. How did she get onto this train of thought, anyway?
When his head falls away from her body and he grunts her name, she knows what's coming. So to speak. His hips jerk up and she swallows what he gives her easily. Before she finishes wiping her mouth, he's at it again, flicking her clit with his thumb while he pushes his tongue into her. She rests her head on his thigh, with her eyes turned away from his groin, because really, she doesn't know what's wrong with her.
But then her body is trembling and she couldn't keep her eyes open if she tried and the only bit of his anatomy that she's concerned with is his tongue. He keeps it up while she's climaxing, dragging out her orgasm until all the energy is drained out of her. She manages to move, plopping down next to him, because if she smothered him to death in the aftermath of performing an act that's probably outlawed somewhere in the south, it would be awfully difficult to explain to the press.
He seems anything but exhausted; he rearranges himself so they're face-to-face and leans in for a kiss. The taste of him on her tongue is briefly overwhelmed by the flavor on his.
She's gasping for breath a few minutes later, once he's abandoned her mouth and started playing with her breasts. Life is good, except for the fact that she doesn't think she'll ever be able to look at his crotch again without giggling. And she still doesn't know what. the. fuck. is going on with that.
But it really doesn't matter, because he's sucking on a nipple while he's fucking her with three fingers, and unless she's very mistaken, that penis which she finds somewhat unattractive and occasionally amusing is getting very, very hard against her thigh. She's just about to come again when he withdraws from her, positions himself over her, enters her.
And then she can't giggle, can't even smile, because he's staring down at her with that look, the one that still puts a lump in her throat, even though she's seen it a million times by now. She whispers his name and he responds by caressing the side of her face. It makes her feel almost ashamed of her previous thoughts, because he's looking at her like she's the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing he's ever seen.
He's kissing her before she can offer a confusing apology. When she comes, she almost bites his tongue.