Seventy-seven

And then, my mouth closes over Brandon's shaft. I am slow at first, flicking my tongue over the salty liquid glistening on top. It tastes nothing like bananas or lollipops but much better than his sperm did the last time or maybe that's my imagination. I don't know, I don't care right now and I let my anger tainted with lust lead me into sucking him off.

Brandon's hand moves to my hair, lowers to the back of my neck without extra pressure and for a fleeting moment, I feel like those porn stars blowing off their fellow actors, on their knees and at the mercy of the man. The rising disgust recedes when his moans bounce off the wall, I lap on his shaft, take all of his precum before my mouth closes over more than half of his pulsing length which hits the base of my throat and I freeze.

Breathe.

I try to as tears rush up to my eyes, his hand guides my head back down when I make to adjust and I grab fistfuls of the blanket lying carelessly by his waist until the wave