The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

I stood and watched Diane push herself off the headboard with the kind of grace that made physics seem negotiable. Her body moved like water, all curves and controlled power, and the way her blue eyes locked onto me said she’d been patient long enough.

"Strip," she said.

Not a request. Not even a command, really. Just a statement of what was about to happen whether I cooperated or not.

I glanced at Sloane, who was still sprawled on the bed looking like she’d been hit by a truck full of endorphins. Her chest was still heaving, skin flushed everywhere, and when she caught me looking she managed a breathless smile that was equal parts satisfied and curious about what came next.

"Don’t keep her waiting," Sloane said. "She gets cranky."

"I do not get cranky."

"You absolutely do."

I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, then worked on my jeans. My hands were steadier than they had any right to be considering my heart was trying to punch through my ribcage. The fabric stuck on my hips because of course it did, because nothing could be smooth when two women were watching you undress like you were the main course.

When I finally kicked the jeans away and stood there in just my boxers, Diane’s gaze dropped to the obvious tent in the fabric and her smile went sharp.

"Those too."

I shoved them down and stepped out of them, and the relief of being free was immediate and slightly embarrassing given how hard I was already. I’d been half there since I’d started working on Sloane, and watching Diane strip while listening to Sloane fall apart had done the rest of the work.

Diane crossed the distance between us in three steps, her hips swaying in a way that would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else but on her just looked like she owned the entire room. She stopped close enough that I could feel her body heat, close enough that when she breathed her chest almost brushed mine.

"You made her scream," she said quietly. "That’s good. I like knowing you pay attention."

"Hard not to pay attention to her."

"Mmm." She reached down and wrapped her fingers around me, her grip firm and confident in a way that made my brain short-circuit. "But I’m not her. So let’s see if you remember what I like."

Before I could respond she dropped to her knees in one smooth motion that made my pulse spike so hard I saw stars. The sight of her kneeling there, completely naked, her pink hair falling around her face and her blue eyes locked on mine with absolute focus, was enough to make me forget my own name.

"Fuck," I breathed.

She smiled. "Not yet. First, you’re going to stand there and let me take care of you."

Her hand stroked me once, slow and deliberate, and the sensation shot up my spine like lightning. I’d had her mouth on me before, multiple times over the past two weeks, but something about doing it here with Sloane watching made everything sharper and more intense.

Behind me I heard the rustle of sheets as Sloane shifted, probably sitting up to get a better view. The knowledge that she was watching sent a thrill through me that I didn’t want to examine too closely.

Diane leaned forward and dragged her tongue along my length from base to tip, maintaining eye contact the entire time. The wet heat of her mouth combined with the visual of her kneeling there made my knees weak.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered.

She pulled back just enough to speak. "Close. But not quite."

Then she took me into her mouth in one smooth motion, sinking down until I hit the back of her throat and she didn’t even flinch. The sound she made was obscene, a wet gluck that echoed in the quiet room, and the sensation of being completely surrounded by her heat made my head fall back.

"Oh fuck," I said to the ceiling. "Fuck."

She hummed around me, the vibration traveling through my entire body, and started moving. Her head bobbed in a steady rhythm that she’d perfected over two weeks of learning exactly what worked on me. She knew when to go deep and when to pull back, when to use her tongue and when to just suck, when to add her hand and when to let her mouth do all the work.

Slurp. Gluck. Slurp.

The sounds were pornographic and perfect, wet and messy in the best possible way. She didn’t try to be neat about it. Saliva dripped down my shaft and over her hand as she worked, making everything slick and easier for her to take me deeper.

I looked down and met her eyes. She was watching me with that same hungry focus, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on the upstroke and her throat working as she swallowed on the downstroke. The visual alone was almost enough to finish me right there.

My hand moved to her face, cupping her cheek with my thumb brushing against the corner of her stretched lips. She leaned into the touch slightly, never breaking eye contact, never slowing her pace.

"You look so fucking good like this," I told her, because it was true and because I knew she wanted to hear it. "Taking me so deep, looking at me like that. You’re incredible."

She moaned around me, the sound muffled but clear in its satisfaction. Her free hand moved to my balls, cupping them gently before rolling them in her palm with the kind of attention that made my toes curl against the carpet.

The pressure was building fast, heat pooling low in my spine and spreading outward with every pass of her mouth. I could feel myself getting harder, hotter, my entire body tensing as she worked me toward the edge with professional efficiency.

"Diane," I warned. "I’m close."

She didn’t pull back. Didn’t slow down. If anything she doubled her efforts, taking me deeper and sucking harder while her hand worked the base in perfect synchronization with her mouth. Her other hand kept massaging my balls with gentle pressure that sent shocks of sensation through my entire nervous system.

Gluck gluck gluck.

The wet sounds got louder as she picked up speed, her throat taking me completely on every downstroke now. I could feel her swallowing around me, could feel the muscles of her throat working to accommodate my size, and the knowledge that she was doing this on purpose instead of fighting her gag reflex made everything more intense.

My hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her pink hair. I didn’t push or pull, just held on like I needed the anchor. She responded by going even deeper, her nose pressing against my pelvis as she took me completely.

"Fuck," I gasped. "Fuck, I’m gonna—"

The orgasm hit like a freight train. Heat exploded through my body as I came hard, pouring into her throat in waves that seemed endless. I held her head steady out of pure instinct, keeping her exactly where she was as I filled her mouth.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

She swallowed it all without hesitation, her throat working around me as she took everything I gave her. The sensation prolonged my climax, dragging it out until I was shaking and gasping and barely able to stand.

When the waves finally stopped she pulled back slowly, her lips dragging along my oversensitive length in a way that made me twitch. A thick strand of saliva and cum connected her lips to my tip, stretching between us before breaking and falling to coat her chin.

She licked her lips deliberately, her tongue catching the residue, and smiled up at me with absolute satisfaction.

"Mmm... good boy."