All was well for about four months, maybe five. Then he pushed in a little further. I stared down at him for a moment, using the hem of my skirt to cover the insecurities written across my face, and his perfect eyes glittered up at me with a prayer for me to use his face like a fucktoy. “W’as goin’ on?” Amos’s voice carried groggily from the doorway. Shit, we must’ve woken him up. Unfortunately, I was stuck where I was, trembling over his face as he pushed his tongue as far as it would go inside of me, then dragged it up flat against my clit. But I was completely fixated on him, and the sight and sound and feeling of him cumming because of my measly little handjob. I stood up and excused myself, and to my wonder, he followed after me. Suddenly we were best friends with benefits, sneaking around behind my asshole boyfriend’s back to have our little moments of fun together.
