Jan. Week 3: A Long Weekend-Movies...Daniel makes a mess! (Suspicion: +15 Lust: +25)

He didn’t last long, and Leah never expected him to; Daniel’s first shot was always one for the record books, a predictable, glorious defeat. She felt the first pulse at the back of her throat, then another, the thick and briny taste of him riding high on the popcorn and butter already slicking her tongue. She could have giggled at the way his knees locked and breath came ragged, the way he tried so hard to keep quiet for fear of the senior citizens up front.

Leah decided to be extra naughty and when Daniel muttered that he was going to cum she pulled her mouth off and stroked his cock rapidly. He came hard, even though his cum didn’t shoot far his cock oozed cum onto Leah’s tongue. Then Leah tried to earn a perverted Oscar by jerking his cock off onto her forehead, she pushed her head on his cock and let his cum ooze on her forhead on smeared on her face.

His face was in shock at her impromptu facial. It might not have been one for porn hub but it was such an exciting experience that Daniel was pure breathless as he came down from the high of cumming on Leah’s face.

Daniel let out a long, shuddering sigh, slumping so deep into his seat he nearly slid onto the sticky floor. He was still panting as she licked him clean, a quick, affectionate sweep of her tongue.

“Hand me those napkins,” she giggled.

Daniel handed her a stack of napkins, still trying to get his breathing under control. She dabbed at the mess with a movie-theater napkin pilfered from the concessions stand. Daniel, still in a happy post-orgasmic trance, made no effort to help.

Daniel zipped up with the speed and sloppiness of a man who’d been caught cheating at cards, then offered her the rest of the popcorn. “You want some?” he whispered, clearly thinking himself hilarious. She took a handful, more out of spite than hunger, and popped the kernels in her mouth, savoring how the salt cut the taste of his semen still lingering on her tongue.

She found the whole thing darkly hilarious—less sexy, more slapstick, like something out of a demented screwball comedy.

She wiped herself down, careful to avoid smudging her makeup, then stuffed the soiled napkins into her empty popcorn bag and set it aside. She ran her tongue over her teeth, tasting salt with an aftershock of brine, and wondered if Jonathan would ever guess what she got up to during her “girls’ weekends” or after-school “tutoring sessions.” The thought made her chest tighten. But guilt was a luxury she’d long since stopped affording herself.

“That,” he whispered, “was fucking amazing.” He gave her a look that was almost tender. “After the movie you wanna go back to my place?”