Abby pulls out my dick

Abby straightens up and slides backward off my lap. “I want to see what you’re packing,” she says. When she sees how wet I am, she’s not sure what to make of it. “Did you—already cum?” she asks, puzzled. “But—you’re still hard—”

“No, sweet girl,” I tell her with a grin. “That’s all you. That’s your cum, not mine.”

Her eyes widen. “Me?” Abby asks in disbelief. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“You just needed the right motivation.” I can’t help it—I smirk.

Abby returns me a lustful grin and strokes my boner through the wet fabric. “Your dick is definitely the right motivation,” she purrs. “I want to see it.” She undoes my belt and unzips my pants, then goes to fish me out of my boxers, but I demur.

“First, I want my pants off,” I tell her. “The zipper isn’t particularly comfortable.”

She nods, and I lift my hips so she can pull them down. My boxers come along with my jeans, but Abby isn’t complaining. She keeps pulling after my cock and balls are fully revealed, but by that time her hands are moving on autopilot—her entire focus is on my manhood. “It’s beautiful,” she says, her voice hushed. She runs her fingertips over my knob, lubricating them with my pre-cum. “You’re so soft . . .” I groan at her feathery caresses as her fingers explore my glans, teasing the tip, following the groove on the underside, and tracing the ridge at the base.

Abby wraps her hand around my shaft and slowly pumps it with a twisting motion. “That’s good, baby,” I tell her, my voice throaty. She smiles in pleasure and wanks me faster. She cups my balls with her other hand, feeling their weight and fondling them gently. She starts pulsing her grip on my shaft as she pumps me, making me groan. “That’s really good . . .”

“I’ve only had a couple boyfriends I actually really wanted to fuck,” Abby murmurs. “It always takes me a while to work up to that; so I keep them happy with handjobs and blowjobs.”

“And yet you want to fuck me already . . .” I murmur.

Abby grins hungrily. “I worked up to wanting to fuck you a long time ago,” she purrs. She gives my balls a light squeeze, making me groan. “Scarlett didn’t say you shaved,” she observes. “I appreciate it.”

“Rowan trained me,” I say huskily. “She enjoyed ball-sucking but hated hair between her teeth. I got in the habit . . . I guess I’ve just kept doing it on autopilot. I suppose Scarlett didn’t mention it because she took it for granted.”

“You’re probably right,” Abby comments. “I don’t, and I appreciate it.” Almost shyly, she adds, “I like sucking balls too. I’m a very oral-tactile person—I love having things in my mouth.”

“You enjoy sucking cock, baby girl?” I ask her.

“Mmmmmmm, yes,” she responds eagerly. “I’m a good little cocksucker. Want me to show you?”