Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I gasped involuntarily. I had never seen an erect penis in person before, and Pierre’s looked terribly intimidating. Long and thick, it jutted proudly from the opening in his elegant trousers, the head flushed dark with blood, a small bead of moisture glistening at the tip. The shaft was veined and rigid. My eyes widened as I watched it pulse slightly with each beat of his heart.
“Look at it closely,” Pierre instructed, his voice somehow both gentle and commanding. “This is the cock that will take your virginity tonight. You should become well acquainted with it first.”
My face flamed with embarrassment, but I couldn’t look away. There was something mesmerizing about this physical sign of my new sponsor’s masculinity—the raw power it represented, the promise of pleasures I had only vaguely imagined.
“Closer,” he urged, his hand moving to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he guided me forward until my face was only a centimeter or two from his erection. “Observe the details. Learn what pleases a man.”
This close up, I could smell his masculine scent—clean but undeniably male, with hints of expensive cologne and something dark and bestial underneath. The heat radiating from his flesh warmed my cheeks as I stared at his erection, mesmerized despite my embarrassment.
“Kiss it,” Pierre commanded softly, his fingers still tangled in my hair, not forcing but definitely guiding. “Just a gentle kiss on the tip to begin.”
I hesitated, my breath coming in short, nervous gasps. This was happening. I was actually about to put my mouth on a man’s penis—on Pierre’s massive cock. The thought made my stomach flip with embarrassment and anxiety… and helpless, unwelcome need.
“Don’t make me wait, Audrey,” he warned, his voice taking on the dangerous edge that made me shiver.
Gathering my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my lips gently against the smooth, rounded head of his erection. The contact sent an almost electric jolt through my body, a strange mix of revulsion and excitement. His skin felt hot and silky against my lips, and I tasted the slightly salty drop of moisture that had gathered at the tip.
“Good girl,” Pierre murmured, his approval sending a shameful thrill through me. “Now lick it. Use your tongue to explore the shape of it.”
Tentatively, I extended my tongue and traced it around the ridge where the head met the shaft. Pierre inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening slightly in my hair. Encouraged by his reaction, I grew bolder, licking up the underside of his manhood in a long, slow stroke.
“That’s it,” he praised, his voice huskier now. “Continue. Learn the texture, the taste. This is how a skillful bridegroom teaches his innocent bride, according to the New Modesty.”
My cheeks flushing at the thought of Selecta’s lewd variety of social engineering, I obeyed, running my tongue along the length of him, feeling the ridges of veins, the smooth skin stretched taut over hardness beneath. The taste was unfamiliar, but not really unpleasant—slightly salty, slightly musky. With each stroke of my tongue, I felt myself sinking deeper into a strange, dreamlike state where nothing existed but this moment, this act of submission.
“Now I want you to pay proper attention to my balls,” Pierre instructed, reaching down to unfasten his trousers more fully. He pushed them down slightly, exposing the heavy sac beneath his rigid shaft. “Nuzzle them first, then lick them. Very gently.”
My face burned with humiliation. This felt even more intimate, somehow, than licking his cock. But I found myself leaning forward obediently, pressing my face against the warmth of his scrotum. The hair there was coarser than I expected, tickling my cheeks as I nuzzled against him like a puppy.
“Yes,” Pierre sighed, his free hand stroking my hair approvingly. “Show your reverence for your sponsor’s masculinity.”
I didn’t know it was possible to feel more degraded than I already did, but his words pushed me deeper into a state of utter abasement, igniting a shameful heat between my thighs. I extended my tongue, lapping gently at the wrinkled skin of his testicles, feeling them shift slightly beneath my ministrations. Pierre groaned softly, a sound of pure masculine pleasure that made my virgin sheath clench with need.
“Now take my cock in your hand,” he instructed, reaching down for my wrist, then guiding my right hand to his shaft. “Not too tight… Yes, like that. Stroke me while you continue to worship my balls with your mouth.”
His crude language made me whimper with humiliation, but I obeyed, wrapping my fingers around the rigid length of him. His manhood felt impossibly hard yet paradoxically soft—like steel wrapped in velvet. I began to move my hand up and down his shaft as he’d directed, while continuing to lick and nuzzle at his testicles.
“Use your other hand to play with yourself,” Pierre commanded suddenly, his voice thick with arousal. “I want to see you masturbate while you serve me.”