The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

Camden

O

aklyn was perked up tall and completely naked on my couch, her creamy skin a bit sweaty and flushed, looking absolutely fucking gorgeous. She always appeared exceptional in clothes, that heart-shaped ass the kind I wanted to constantly grab and squeeze, tits that would fit so well in my hands, nipples that liked to taunt me as they hardened under her clothes.

She had the kind of body that deserved to be worshipped.

But naked was an entirely different story.

She was perfect, to the point where I couldn’t stay away, where underneath my T-shirt and sweats, I was just as damp and heated as her.

And turned the fuck on.

No part of me had expected this sexually timid woman to strip and finger-fuck her pussy. To rub one out in front of me, using the flat heaviness of her palm and half her finger-the only amount her virgin cunt could handle, I assumed.

But it was the sexiest sight I’d ever seen.

So much so that I’d had to get closer while she was doing it. I had to be within range to get a whiff, to see the wetness on her skin and not have to strain when I leaned forward and sucked it off her finger.

I’d just needed a taste.

I’d needed to know if she was as sweet as I thought she would be.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

And she was.

Fuck.

Now that it was over, she’d handled the lesson just fine.

But this was the after. The part I questioned as much as the actual act itself. Because once I told her we were done for tonight and pointed at the door, her reaction would be extremely telling.

Can she handle the emotionless side of hooking up?

Before I got that answer, I needed to address her offer.

The one that involved her lips around my cock.

While she’d gotten herself off, she had gazed at me with a pulsing passion. That was how I had known how badly she wanted to come.

As she stared at me now, waiting for a response, she looked no different.

I picked up my empty glass from the floor and went over to the bar. I took the opportunity to adjust my hard-on, tucking it under the elastic waist of my sweats, and I refilled the tumbler before I joined her on the couch.

“Tell me something, Oaklyn. Is sucking my dick your fantasy for lesson two?”

She played with the ends of her hair, the dark strands so long that they hid her tit. “I haven’t finalized the list yet.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Her thumb went into her mouth, chewing the side of her nail. “It’s not going to make the list, no.”

I hadn’t thought so.

She just wanted to please me.

And, goddamn it, I wanted nothing more.

But this proposition wasn’t about my pleasure or fucking her mouth, like I dreamed about thrusting into her pussy or shooting my cum into her throat, like I wanted to fill her ass. It was about accomplishing each of the lessons that would lead to taking her virginity and teaching her how to be an expert in bed while making sure she didn’t break down emotionally.

The second I made this about me, everything would change.

We’d change.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I reached forward, tracing the outline of her lips, teasing myself with what those plump beauties could potentially do. How hard they could suck. How low her tongue could reach. And when I couldn’t take a second more, I whispered, “Maybe another time,” and pulled my hand away.

“I owe you, then. Consider it an offer that never expires.”

I tilted my head, thinking of the possibilities. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She was quiet for several moments and then, “I think I’ve earned myself the rest of that wine.”

Although the idea of her walking naked across my living room was a vision I would fucking love, she’d already fulfilled every obligation this evening, so I got up and retrieved the drink for her. When I returned, she was putting her clothes back on-a sad scene as she covered that beautiful body.

I waited until she buttoned her jeans and slid on her top, stretching her arms through the blazer before I handed her the wine.

“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass to mine.

We both took sips.

“I’ve got plans this weekend,” I told her, “but sometime early next week, I’m thinking we knock out lesson two. You do know what that means, right?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I need your fantasy list.”

She licked the wine off her bottom lip and smiled. “I can do that, no problem.”

“I have to say, Oaklyn, you’re an extremely studious student so far.”

“Maybe you’re just a good teacher.”

I chuckled. “What exactly have I taught you?”

She swallowed the rest of her wine and went into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. When she came back to the living room, she didn’t sit. She stood halfway between the couch and my front door. “More than you think,” she finally replied.

There was a lightness to her expression.

A happiness.

A look that showed full contentment.

“I’ll text you my list.”

I nodded.

“Good night, Camden.” She raised her hand to her mouth and blew me a kiss. “See you later.”

I watched her walk out, and as I heard the door click closed, that only reinforced that she’d passed lesson one.

But whatever she chose for lesson two and beyond, I didn’t think it would go as well.

It couldn’t.

Because I had a feeling Oaklyn was going to need more from me. More security. More of a promise that this wasn’t just physical. Most women weren’t like men in that way. Sex was just an endgame to us, but for most of them, they couldn’t disconnect their pussy from their heart-the two were joined, running simultaneously. When that happened, when she realized she needed assurance and I couldn’t give it to her, she’d snap.

She’d pull back on the proposition.