For me to say that I was good at oral sex, or that I liked giving blow jobs, would make me feel and sound like a slut.

With that in mind, I would gladly admit to the fact that I was a slut.

For Tristan. Ha.

He grinned in response to my question, this sly, distracted smile that was more focused on my breasts than face. Despite the fact that my only child tendencies made me unable to share things in life with most people, the hot as shit man lying on the bed was not just any person. He'd already proven to me that he was anything but selfish.

I yanked down the elastic band of his boxer briefs before he had a chance to make the slightest peep in protest and gasped. His pink cock slapped against his stomach angrily. That moment was what I imagined the discovery of the meaning of life would be like: all encompassing, time stopping, and brilliant. The word little had no room in my vocabulary when I was with him naked. I mean I shouldn't have been surprised that every aspect of him was nothing less than perfect and beautiful. This was Tristan. There was no part of him that wasn't immaculate besides two crooked toes that had been broken and not put back into place.

Unfortunately, I'd seen some nasty dicks in my life both in person and onscreen. Peens that couldn't spell proportionate if they tried; thin, short and thick, crooked, super veiny: there were a million varieties that could constitute my interpretation of an ugly dick.

This one...

Would it be too forward for me to immediately put his balls in my mouth? Even his nicely trimmed sack was nice and virile looking.

I said a silent prayer to whatever holy spirit was watching over me that while Tristan was far better endowed than any other man I'd ever been with, he was not an Calum Burro. My poor vag knew it was in a world of trouble already by his length and girth.

A warm hand cupped my chin, bringing my focus back to that chiseled jaw I was enraptured with. Dark green eyes gazed at me from across the mere feet that separated us. "What are you doing?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"What I want," I told him, my voice sounding way huskier than normal as I pulled his boxers down his long legs and tossed them onto the floor.

He sucked in a breath and brushed his thumb across my lower lip through heavy eyes. "Fuck Kat," he murmured when I slipped my tongue out to lick the pad of his finger.

In a second, his thumb was delving into my mouth by the corner and I was sucking it in. His hips twitched, making his long cock bob in the air. I may have drooled just a little at the sight. The next thing I knew, I was sitting back on my knees and licking him with all the experience I had gained as a kid when I was obsessed with lollipops. I sucked him down as far as I could over and over again, gagging every so often and not giving half a shit when it happened.

Tristan panted. He moaned. He groaned. His hips bucked with a lack of control I'd never seen from him. Those eyes stayed on my mouth and my tugging hand constantly as his left hand gripped the comforter.

"Fuck... oh shit..." he grunted out. "Baby, you're so... fuck... oh my fuck... good at...come here..." His free right hand beckoned me to him.

Not wanting to break our contact, I kept my right hand wrapped around his length. I slipped over him, stroking and tugging at his wet, hard flesh until I was on his right side, hovering over his face.

Vibrant eyes gazed up at me before his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me down to his lips, kissing me so deeply I completely forgot what my hand was supposed to be doing. His hot tongue stroked mine, over and over again while I tightened my grip and pumped faster.

"Why are you so... oh.... I'm gonna fucking..." he cried out, bucking those slim hips in the air in time with my hand.

"In my mouth?" I whispered against his ear.