The Silver Cage by Anonymous

Author:Anonymous [Anonymous]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-01-22T18:30:00+00:00

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M I C H A E L

Cal climbed off of me as soon as my second orgasm finished. He swallowed and licked his lips, but I could still see a streak drying along his jaw. During the slow, exquisite torture of my second blowjob, he had played with me and held my tip against his lips and face so that pre-cum had oozed all over him.

And really, what was that? No woman had ever blown me like that, not ever, and every single woman I had been with had claimed to love doing it. But Cal ...

I rubbed my face and eyes. Cal, Cal ... he was a starved animal, shaking the whole time, deep-throating me and then telling me how he needed it.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” His voice brought me back to reality.

I sat up too fast and saw spots—spectral white, flying in every direction.

“I can ...” I shimmied up my jeans. “Do you, I mean ...” I tried to get a look at the front of his pants, but he had turned away from the bed.

“I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Well, I could ...” I could join you. I want to join you. I want to make you come, too. Those words belonged to a much more mature lover than I. All I seemed capable of doing was seeing spots and forming half-sentences.

Cal leaned over and kissed my forehead where damp skin met damp hair. Somehow, I was sweating more than he was.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. I would have found that compliment strange coming from anyone else, but coming from him, it made me feel rare and desired. He padded into the master bathroom and pulled the door shut. The lock clicked—I frowned—and I heard the water running a moment later.

He didn’t want company, then. I wondered if he would jerk off. Embarrassment prickled up the back of my neck. Of course he would; he would have to take care of himself. I was probably supposed to touch him, somehow, during our encounter, but I hadn’t even thought of it.

My bliss quickly shredded into anxiety. I hopped off the bed and straightened my clothes. He had a standing mirror in the corner of the room. I checked myself over, fixed my hair, and pulled his comforter into shape.

Then I hovered, my hand on the bedpost, until he emerged from the bathroom. Steam rolled out around him. He had a black towel banded low around his waist. Grooves of muscle scored his abs. I looked away. I looked back. He laughed.

“Go downstairs, Michael,” he said. “I’ll be right down.”

“Are you sure?” I scratched the back of my neck. Making an advance was not going to happen, since I couldn’t even make my eyes move in the appropriate direction. If he asked, though, or showed me or told me what to do ...

“Go on.”

I shuffled out.

The main area of the house seemed to have changed since my trip to the loft. I swept my eyes over the fine furniture, the plush carpeting and pale hardwood floor in the kitchen.

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