“Do you want to try it?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to go down on Brian?”
“I mean, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
“You’re not supposed to do anything. But when a woman goes down on me, it’s because she wants to, because she finds my cock so enticing that she can’t function without tasting me. I want my girl to be desperate, needy, and begging for me, so when she does take me in her mouth, she worships it. Just like I would worship her aching pussy.”
Jesus . . . hell. Because she finds my cock so enticing that she can’t function without tasting me. Just like I would worship her aching pussy.
Hearing him say pussy is next level. How it rolls off his tongue with ease as if he says it all the time. And he probably does. This conversation has shown me exactly the type of man he is when he’s intimate with a woman. Dirty talking, desirous, dominating. A stark contrast from the sweet, funny best friend I know so dearly.
“Well, I want to pleasure him,” I say. “I think everyone wants to be able to pleasure their partner.” Do I find Brian’s cock so enticing that I can’t function without tasting him? Obviously not.
“What do you do with him?” he asks as he scoots closer to me, placing just a few inches between us now so our knees knock together and his arm is draped right behind me.
Can he tell how . . . turned on I am from this conversation? Can he feel the heat coming off me? Can he see my rosy cheeks or see the light sheen of sweat that has broken out over my skin?
God, I hope not.
“Uh, what do I do with Brian? Well.” I clear my throat, feeling uncomfortable. I’m the one who started this conversation, so I might as well go all in. “We obviously kiss.”
“That’s a given,” he says, his eyes falling to my lips.
I have to look away because it almost seems like there’s hunger in his pupils, but that could just be the heightened awareness from what he just said. “And you know, touch each other. He fondles my breasts and, uh”—I swallow—“I touch his balls and penis. But, we kind of just get into it, you know? He really likes to fuck me from behind.”
Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that. My cheeks are burning with embarrassment.
Breaker tugs on a strand of my hair and twists it around his finger. “Does he spank you while he’s fucking you?”
“What?” My eyes widen before I shake my head. “No. He’s never spanked me.”
“Shame. Bet you would get wet from it.” Dear Jesus. “Do you strip for him?” he asks, his voice so deep that I’m barely comprehending what he’s asking.
I rub my thighs gently, trying to keep my mind on his question and not his responses. “I did a few times.”
“Lap dance?”
“Uh, not really. But I have purchased some lingerie that I know he liked. It was black see-through lace.”
Breaker wets his lips again and nods. “That’s hot, Lia.”
“Yeah?” I ask, my cheeks now flaming.
“Very hot. I love when my girl wears lingerie. I love when she wants to dress up for me, show me her body, grind on me. It’s all about the teasing, so even if you’re not comfortable at giving a lap dance, trust me, if you were in lingerie and just lightly grinding on my dick, I’d be fucking ecstatic.”
“But . . . what do I do, just sit there?”
“And move your hips. It’s his job to further the moment by running his hands up your thighs like this,” he says as he drags his fingers over my leg, shooting a punch of lust straight between my thighs.
Fuck, that feels good.
“Oh,” I say breathlessly.
“And he’s supposed to smooth his hand over your stomach, especially if you’re facing the other direction, your back to his chest. He’s supposed to attempt to touch your breasts but not really touch them. He’s supposed to get close, to run his finger along the underside but pull away. He’s supposed to turn you on so much that when he moves his hand back down your stomach and plays with the waistband of your underwear that your legs part even wider. You should be wet, throbbing, so turned on that you’re ready to come when he slips his fingers right against your clit.”
I can’t breathe.
I can’t speak.
I can barely hear him over the roar of my pulse in my ears.
Turned on . . . yeah, I’m there.
I know that I’m wet, I know that I’m throbbing, and that Breaker knows exactly how to entice a woman.