Taking Charge Pt. 01

"Fuck, that's good," he said.

Jake stared into my eyes, and I stared right back at him. He drew his hips back until his wide cock head began to stretch my lips again, then he pushed back in. He rocked his hips slowly, pushing in and out. I had to stop this. I knew that. But his cock was so big, filling my mouth, and I loved it. My crotch was soaked and my insides were on fire, clenching tight like a fist, aching to be filled. And his taste...clean and masculine.

"Not your fault," he reminded me, slowly shaking his head. "I'm fucking your mouth, and there's nothing you can do."

He pumped his hips a little faster, thrust a little deeper. His cock hit the back of my mouth and I gagged. He grinned down at me, almost wickedly. He thrust again, hitting the opening of my throat, but this time, he held himself there. I gagged loudly and my mouth filled with thick saliva. Jake drew back a little, his broad tip resting on my tongue. There was so much spit in my mouth that I had to swallow it, so I did, but doing so forced me to close my lips around him, and of course it lifted my tongue, which pressed against the thick ridge on the bottom of his tip.

While I swallowed the saliva in my mouth, Jake held my hair tight in his fist and stroked his hand up and down his shaft, his knuckles nearly touching my lips. He just held his big dick there in my mouth, not really moving, while I sat on the toilet completely naked, vulnerable, my crotch a soaking wet mess, my insides clenching, belly flexing, thighs squeezing together.

Jake pressed forward. His big tip grazed the opening of my throat. I gagged and he did it again and again, fucking my mouth with short little jabs, gentle but insistent.

"Christ, what I would give to fuck your throat."

My eyes closed and I heard myself whimper. After a while, I stopped gagging, but my mouth kept filling up with thick saliva, so I kept swallowing, and before I knew it, my lips weren't opening back up anymore. They were sealed around his cock, and my tongue was pressing up, so that he could rub himself against it over and over. God, he was so hot in my mouth, so big, and he was leaking in there, his precum dribbling onto the back of my tongue so that it was gliding right down my throat.

Jake hissed, "Ah, fuck."

I whimpered again, and my breasts felt heavy and swollen.

"Goddamn," he breathed.

And then, curiously, the magazine fell off my lap, and my arm was moving, and I felt something warm and thick in my hand, and my breasts were no longer covered. I was stroking his shaft. My hand was on his cock and I was stroking him. I was sucking Jake's dick and jacking him off. I almost stopped, but then I felt my hot insides invaded by two of my own fingers. I was blowing my husband's best friend and finger-fucking myself, and I just couldn't stop.

"Almost there, baby," Jake murmured, thrusting his hips, fucking my sucking mouth. "That's it. Just a little more." He pushed deeper, his tip pressing against the opening of my throat.

God, this was wrong and so very hot. He needed to stop. I needed this to end. The longer this went on, the more wrong it was, and the more I enjoyed it, lost myself in it. The sooner this was over, the sooner life could get back to normal. Maybe if I just helped him along? Yes, I could help him come and we could just go right back to the way things were.

So that's why I held his thick shaft tight in my hand and pushed my head back against his fist so that I could lick his huge tip, so that I could lather his cock with my tongue and purse my lips, kissing it, so that I could slurp daintily, though not quietly, on that big fucking dick that was not my husband's.

My fingers were a blur, plunging into my quivering hole fast and faster while my thumb tormented my clit. I came, sucking on Jake's fat cock, his monstrous dong, and he grunted, growled, tightened his fist in my hair until it hurt. I took him deep and he throbbed in my hand, swelled on my tongue.

There was this hot flood of thick fluid that gushed into my mouth. It was overwhelming, unbelievable, the volume, simply too much for my small mouth. I swallowed but some of his semen spilled over my lower lip. I felt his thick cream gliding down my throat, and it was like I'd gulped down an entire cup of warm yogurt, there was so much of it.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Another flood, more creamy cum spilling into my mouth, coursing down my throat, spilling over my chin, dripping onto my breasts. I couldn't keep up with such incredible virility. I jacked him off with both hands and kissed and licked his tip, the sides of his crown, and Jake just kept on coming. Thick semen burst against my lips, cheeks and chin, flowed down my neck and chest, until finally, his cock was only leaking again, but leaking a lot.

When it was over, I sat there on the toilet with my legs spread wide, my hands on my thighs, Jake's cock head kind of resting against my parted lips while I breathed heavily and cum dripped onto my thighs from my boobs. Gradually, Jake's fist opened, releasing the tight hold he had on my hair.

"Fuck, that was good," he sighed.

I looked up at him. His head was thrown back and his body was so beautifully muscled. As much as it was wrong, I wanted him back in my mouth. I didn't put him there though. I just kind of moved my head in little circles, brushing my cum-slick slips round and round his fat tip. Jake looked down at me and our eyes locked. Releasing my head entirely, he wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft and moved his hips forward so that his thick length was resting against my upturned face from chin to forehead and beyond. He dragged his shaft down my face and stroked his cock up to the tip, slowly, hand clenched tight, and he squeezed a huge dollop of thick cum out of his dick. It fell onto the side of my nose and oozed down my cheek.

He grinned smugly, proudly. "Thanks, Becca."

Then he left.

I sat on the toilet for a while, catching my breath while my husband's best friend's cum cooled on my face and body and churned in my stomach.

My God. What had I done?