Fifteen

ADALENE’S LEFT HAND traced the impressive outline of his shaft, the skin hot and throbbing, filled with blood’s life force on the inside. she could only feel respect for it. As much as she knew of a man’s member from what was told by giggling cousins, she knew if she described the Baron’s cock to them, they would all sigh in envy.
But she wouldn’t. She just thought so. She could let no one else have a glimpse, even just through the description, of any part of the baron’s body.
His cock was beautiful and as virile as its owner, standing tall and erect and strong, much like an aristocrat itself.
And she claimed it hers to pleasure now until the Baron deemed so.
He inhaled sharply when she lowered her mouth to it to kiss it sweetly on its head before testing its width with her lips, grateful she had already lost her hat to the couch and it was out of the way. She heard him hiss as she slowly lowered her mouth over his, and she suddenly felt a need to taste him that had nothing to do with pleasuring him. With wonder, she realized how much she enjoyed this, too. She played him with her flicking tongue, and he groaned longer now. She swallowed him shallowly at first, as he was still swelling, but she was not so afraid of it anymore.
In fact, holding him like this made her braver, more confident in herself, and it made her wonder what she had been worrying about in her bedchamber earlier. The Baron wanted her. She could see it in his eyes. He was expecting what she would do as his eyes smoldered at her. And it encouraged her tremendously.
She ached to pleasure him like this. She wanted nothing else but to hear him groan and gasp the way he’d done this afternoon, the first time she tried this. This time, she was determined to do better, to finally see what it was like to watch a man find his release. She sucked softly, flicking her tongue on his cock’s head, as the maid instructed. Again, he groaned and placed his hand on her head as his eyes brooded more, his cheeks flush like he suddenly contracted fever. His fingers caressed her scalp and his fingers combed through her hair. He helped her lose her pins to the floor until her hair fell down her shoulders.
“I want your hair loose when we make love, and I want it fanned on the pillows around your head,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “How beautiful you will look,” he’d said. “I will feel tremendous joy possessing you.”
She raised her eyes to him and let out his cock so her tongue could lap him up slowly. Juliet said a man watching her do this to him could make him crazy. He was breathing unevenly, and he moaned again. “Oh... Adalene...” She slid him halfway in while her hand pumped the lower part, and farther and farther down her throat, as much as she could take him there.
His groans got desperate. “Oh, Adalene, ma bichette, you learn so fast!” he exclaimed. “You are wonderful. Oh, ma bichette...”
She began to pump faster, sliding him in and out of her mouth harder, deeper, concentrating on relaxing her mouth and throat as Juliet said, relieved it was working the way Juliet had promised it would. He was still too thick and long that she couldn’t take all of him, but he didn’t seem to mind as his movements became more compulsive. He was losing control of himself as she was this afternoon. It was a good sign she was doing it right.
His body tensed harder as she sucked him harder, his eyes rolling up. After a few more pumps that reached the farthest she could manage in her throat, he cursed, and she knew he was close to that release Juliet described. She could do this. She could make her reach his climax.
But he suddenly pulled out and moved, gently pushing her head away from him as he slid out from between her lips.
“I’ll take care of it now, ma bichette,” he said.
Adalene had no choice but to let go. She watched as he continued to pump himself. She lowered her head and kissed the naked thigh that was exposed to her, watching some more until his cock swelled more than she thought it could.
Then he groaned loudly.
Following her instinct, she lowered her mouth to take the head inside, and she felt jets of warm substance shoot out of it. She swallowed his seed, sucking him gently but firmly for more as his hand slowed its pumping and he moaned long and hard. His body was rigid, and then he relaxed. His hand dropped to his side as his whole body melted on the couch.
She released him and held him carefully with her hand as she watched for more signs of what he felt. But he looked depleted. Then he smiled, his eyes half-slit, and his smile, when it came, was lazy but thoroughly contented. She raised herself then, holding her hair away from her face as she watched him in wonder, her eyes observing every part of his lax face, as he had closed his eyes again, and flaring nostrils. Breathless as he was, he seemed fine. She then basked in the musky smell of his completion.
“Did I do it right this time, my Fabian?” she finally asked, feeling wonder that she had, for the first time, made a man cum. But she was a little worried, too. Should a man look that winded after cumming? “Are you alright?”
He laughed softly before he opened his eyes to take her in. Then he reached out and pulled her from her kneeling position to his lap, to be held against his warm body and strong arms.
And as for his answer to her question, she was kissed slowly, thoroughly and deeply, and most gratefully...