I want to give him a blow job, and I’ve never wanted to give anyone a blow job. But every time I think about taking Henry into my mouth, feeling his hand in my hair, looking up at him while he fucks my mouth, I get an electric shock of arousal, and I want to change my panties.
He has this effect on me, like sex with him would be perfect, and not because he’s hot or smart and a total catch, but because he has all of those dad qualities that make me feel safe, and the thought of pleasing him just does something to me.
I’ve lost my mind. Is that normal? Am I a freak?
I don’t know and honestly I don’t care.
I know he says that we need to keep our distance because he has to focus on being a good dad to Kirsten, but he has no idea that in my head, I’ve already wandered down this forbidden path and gotten all kinds of attached to the idea of us.
It’s stupid, but how could you possibly avoid that with a guy like Henry? Gorgeous, sexy, good in bed, I assume. Three days ago, I hated him. But now I’ve gotten to know him, and I’m seeing things differently.
I know messing around with him would be a terrible idea and would only complicate things with Kirsten, but I have myself convinced that I can handle it. I can fuck around with him and get the best orgasms of my life then walk away without being heartbroken. And so what if I do end up heartbroken? No one has ever died of a broken heart.
I’m about ninety percent sure Henry basically called everything off because he’s afraid I’m going to get attached and make it a problem. If I can just assure him that I’m down to keep it casual then he might let me have a little more fun while I still can.
Every few moments I notice him glance my way, and I fidget in my seat.
“You know,” he says, interrupting my filthy train of thought. “You deserve way better than guys like Ben. Men really have no right rating a woman’s oral abilities since nine out of ten have no idea what they’re doing down there.”
I smile, mostly because he’s right. Ben never went down on me, and not for lack of trying on my part, but I’ve heard enough to know Henry is right. Kirsten would tell me about the times men had gone down on her like it was a pie eating contest and I was insanely jealous.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Henry lets out a frustrated grunt, and I have to bite back a smile. Like Ben hating oral sex was some injustice to me. Oh, how I wish he’d right those wrongs.
Pat Benatar plays on the radio and I try to busy my hands (and my mouth) snacking on some popcorn we bought at the last gas station. Henry grabs a handful, and of course a few pieces fall right into his lap. Moving on instinct, I reach over and pick them up, putting them into his mouth. He freezes as soon as my hand brushes his pants, and I expect him to put up a fight but he opens his mouth for me to put the popcorn in.
“Thank you,” he mutters.
After sending him a sly smile, he glances at me and asks, “What did you ever see in that guy anyway?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. We looked good together.”
He glares at me, and I instantly blush, turning away. “I know I was naive. You don’t have to tell me, but I wanted to believe in this fairytale. Like the handsome guy would sweep me off my feet. I truly believed he was a real gentleman.”
“You just didn’t know him at all.”
“I know. Well, what about you?” I ask, turning the conversation around on him. “Can you say you’re such a gentleman? Do you sweep girls off their feet?”
“I’m a gentleman where it counts,” he replies, with a subtle smirk on his face.
“Where it counts?”
“You know…like treating women with respect, not leading girls on, being polite.”
“What about where it doesn’t count?” I ask, playfully tossing a couple more pieces of popcorn into his mouth.
“Then, I’m a devil.” He gives me a wink that makes my mouth go dry. I don’t bother asking where it doesn’t count, but I don’t know if I can handle the answer. I think if I had Henry in bed with me, I’d prefer the devil over the gentleman any day of the week.
A handsome devil too.
This whole time I thought he really was the devil…and definitely where it counts, as a dad. I had him pegged for this uncaring asshole who couldn’t bother taking the time to see his daughter. Little did I know that he was working to pay her way through college and put off dating for twenty years to focus on his plan to join her in the states. And now, he’s pushing me away for Kirsten.
It feels like a knife through my ribcage.
Looking over at him, the urge to please him again is overwhelming. What is wrong with me? Suddenly I want to slip out of this seat belt and do very dirty things to him. In my eleven months with Ben, I never wanted anything. Maybe it wasn’t me after all…maybe I just couldn’t face how unattracted to Ben I was. Now that I can accept how viciously attracted to Henry I am, I see it all so clearly.
Well…if Henry can be a devil, then so can I.
Feeling bold and probably a little reckless, I undo my seatbelt and lean across the console. The car starts beeping with a warning right away.
“What the bloody hell are you doing? Sit down and buckle up right now.”
“Or what?” I whisper. “You’ll spank me?” The fact that I don’t even feel weird or dirty saying that to him is a sign, a big sign. And that sign would say something like, “Laila is a freak” in bold print.
“Laila…we talked about this…”
His refusal is weak, and I can tell that he wants this. He wants me as much as I want him, but he’s doing the proper thing. Well, fuck the proper thing.
I trail my fingers down his chest to his pants where I feel his growing erection sitting snug against his leg in his pants. “Please, can I?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Jesus, fuck, I’m being tested.” Then he stares at me for a moment, biting his lip like he wants to draw blood. “A test I’m surely going to fail.”
“So, don’t fight it,” I whisper against the skin of his cheek.
“Fuck. I’m getting on the frontage road.”
Slowly, he moves the car off the exit and gets on the two way road without a soul in sight.
My hands shake as I drag down the zipper of his pants after undoing the top button. I’m so anxious to touch him that when I finally get his cock free, my mouth literally waters.
We hit a bump and I let out a giggle as I drop to run my tongue along the length. He shutters and lets out a small groan. Then I kiss the head, running my lips around the rim and sliding my tongue across the top. I watch him for a reaction, testing to see which touch has the biggest effect.
“Oh, Laila,” he mumbles as I enclose my lips around him.
He has one hand on the wheel and the other laying gently in my hair. It slides down my back, and I get chills from the touch. When I finally take him into the back of my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet, he bunches my shirt up in his fist.
“Oh fuck, Laila.”
God, I love the sound of my name in his accent.
Letting out a sweet moan, I move up and down on his shaft, gripping him at the base and squeezing as I work from the bottom to the top. His hips start to jerk and I can feel him struggling to drive at the same time. I knew that giving him a blow job would be hot, but I’m finding myself a lot more flustered and aroused than I expected. This is so dirty, but I don’t feel ashamed. Something about this, having him so helpless in my hands makes me feel powerful as fuck, and it’s a power I could get drunk on.
“You are amazing,” he whispers, which I assume is a compliment guys are likely to dole out in the middle of the blowjob, but coming from Henry, it feels good.
“Laila, you are so fucking amazing,” he groans again, and I let out another moan, my hum vibrating against him.
His already hard dick is getting even harder, and it urges me on, stroking faster.
“I have to pull over,” he gasps, jerking the car off into a flat area. As soon as he can take his hands off the wheel, he can focus on me, wrapping my hair in his hand and jerking his hips up into my mouth. There’s nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing and my lips slurping around him. When I finally gaze up, the sight of him with his wet lips parted, watching me under his hooded gaze sends heat directly to my core. This is so fucking hot.
“I’m going to—” he gasps while trying to pull me away. Popping off, I don’t quite register what’s going on until I feel the warm jets hit my face. For a whole moment, I’m staring open-mouthed at him before he finally reacts in shock.
Grabbing his shirt and swiping at my face and neck, he looks completely mortified.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, fuck, Laila. I’m sorry. I tried to move you away faster…Jesus, it’s everywhere.”
My smile won’t seem to clear even as he pulls out the wet wipes he keeps in the glove compartment and runs them along my cheeks. For him, I know this is a new low. He wanted to keep things between us appropriate, and coming on my face isn’t exactly his idea of appropriate.
As he jumps out of the car to go to the trunk I follow him. “It’s not like I didn’t know what was going to happen,” I tell him, but he still looks so regretful.
I watch as he tears open his duffel bag and pulls out a clean T-shirt. Then he slips quickly out of his stained shirt and throws on the clean one, all the while showing off a chest and arms I completely underestimated. Henry is surprisingly ripped.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask as he slams the trunk with a little more force than necessary.
Spinning on me, his expression softens. He runs his hand through his hair as he stares at me. “Fuck no, I’m not mad at you, Laila.” Then, I’m pulled into his arms, and he hugs me tight.
“Everything with you is amazing, and I wish we could just have fun together, but I don’t know how to stop myself with you,” he mutters against the top of my head. “You’re messing with my head,”
“Maybe you should stop thinking with your head,” I reply at which he peers down at me with a curious glare. I let out a clipped laugh. “I just mean…you’re always so practical, Henry. You think that being a good dad means making these sacrifices for your daughter, but have you ever thought about just following your heart?”
My pulse picks up when I feel him squeeze me tighter. Did that sound too needy? Does he know how badly I want him for more than just practice sex? What if he doesn’t feel the same way I do? He’s going to think I’m just a desperate young girl, and the thought has me feeling suddenly cold and terrified.
“You have no idea how much I’d like that,” he responds quietly. “But she’s my daughter. How can I risk it? If she found out about us and what we’ve done, she may never talk to me again…and I just got her back.”
“She doesn’t have to know,” I mumble weakly.
“Are you honestly telling me that if you lost your virginity you wouldn’t tell your best friend?”
My heart sinks. He’s absolutely right. I’m fairly certain Kirsten wouldn’t freak out, and I don’t think she would write him out of her life forever, but what if I’m wrong? What if I misjudged her the same way I misjudged him? What if she hates me for it too?
He holds me for a few minutes longer regardless of how cold we are, standing on the side of the frontage road. Everything feels so final, and the acceptance that he’s absolutely right weighs heavy on my heart.
“For what it’s worth, that was the best blow job I’ve ever had.”
A laugh bubbles out of my chest, but my giggles turn into tears quickly. I keep those hidden. I don’t need him to know just how much my heart was already wanting this. How much I like being in his arms. Thinking about him as mine.
“Let’s get back on the road,” I mutter flatly after I get the laughter and tears under control.
“Stay in your seat this time,” he warns, and I force a smile at him as I get in my seat. If I had known that touching him again would bring out all of these feelings, I might not have done it. But I think it’s too late to play it safe. My heart is already invested.
