From the first story:
Once the head touched my lips I just pushed forward. I imagined it many times, alone and in bed, fingers searching, breath hard, hips lifting in that longing dance. Once the head slipping into my mouth and my tongue slipped under it and then he was pushing himself in, I felt like I would come right there.
I sucked and pushed forward. I remember thinking that it tasted somewhat like sucking my own thumb, only different. He groaned when I sucked hard, one of his hands clutched my shoulder and the other my head. I liked that. I felt owned, I felt real, I felt filled up and whole.
I could suck half of it. I slipped it out and my lips dragged across its hardness. The skin was smooth, slightly bumpy with veins. It was hot, it felt like sex. I sucked it slowly, back and forth, breathing through my nose. I sucked it and cupped his balls, felling their odd softness. I sucked him and he moaned and whispered little dirty things.
We had been playing around for over an hour before this. His hands up under my shirt, down into my jeans. We rolled around and had been getting worked up for a long time. When I started really sucking, really pushing my mouth forward so my lips felt dry skin I hadn’t been able to suck yet, I heard his breathing quicken even more. I pushed and pulled my self forward and backwards, feeling the head of his cock against the top of my mouth and my tongue. I was hypnotized by the rhythm of if. In out, in out.
At some point my hand came up and grasped the base of him. I held him straight and just sucked the tip, my mouth too tired to do much more. I wasn’t used to this, but I wanted to keep going. I wanted it all, but I couldn’t do that yet.
I let my lips tighten around the head on every outstroke. I sucked and licked and made my mouth wet and taut for him.
When I felt him stiffen, stand taller, grasp my shoulder and whimper little warnings, I felt this burst of adrenaline through me.
“I’m... it’s almost...”