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"What do you like about me?"

"Honestly?" I asked him rhetorically as I looked him up and down and tried to think of a sweet answer. But, sweet and politeness is not my thing. So I replied, "your dick," and of course surprise and laughter flashed within his eyes.

"I'm being serious Monet."

"I know, that's why I gave you a real answer," I replied with a roll of my eyes.

We were sitting at a table across from each other in a martini lounge drinking cocktails, chatting and soaking in the smooth jazz playing from the live band. It had been a week since we last talked to each other and even longer than that since we had gotten together. But, we were picking up right where we left off. Well at least I thought we were, until David decided to ask me that question.

"Fine, what about my dick do you like the most?" He asked with a smirk as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

I took a slow sip of my martini and peered across the rim of the glass at the fine specimen that was my friend. My eyes lingered on his gorgeous mouth, with his perfectly framed goatee and round bottom lip. His smirk was still in place on his face as I set my glass back on the table and now his pearly white straightened teeth with its small overbite were slowly peeking through, as his smirk slowly turned into a smile.

"Monet, are you going to elaborate or just stare?" He was full on smiling now, and the laughter had returned to his eyes. My simple answer and delayed response was now making him cocky. I leaned in, placing my elbows on the table and folding them under my chin. His eyes immediately dropped to my breast. I was wearing a simple white jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and my arms had caused my breast to be pushed closer together. I waited the full ten seconds it took for his eyes to return to mine, and now I was the one smirking.

"What I like most about you is your dick. I like the way it feels in my hands as it grows to its full potential. Starting off soft, yet solid. I like how the foreskin glides along the shaft under my fingertips as I stroke you, waking it up. I like how it grows before my eyes in minutes and you overflow my palm. I like how much your dick weighs in my hand once its pumped full of blood. I like how it has that slight curve upward, so it always hits my g-spot once we connect and become one. I like how it feels sliding over my tongue when I lay over the edge of the bed and you feed it to me." I licked my lips, and closed my eyes before continuing. Trying to remember our last time together. "I like that it slides to the back of my mouth and it still has the ability to slide into my throat. I like that it fills me completely, and that I get to feel it completely. I like how it taste. Skin. Flesh. You. I like that no matter what time of the day or when you last showered that it taste so damn good." Reopening my eyes, "I like the delicious treat it spews. I like that it tells me you take care of yourself and have a balance diet. I like that when I suck on the head and run my tongue underneath along that ridge—the frenulum—that I always get a pre-taste. I like that when you lose yourself and it enters my throat, sometimes I'm able to stretch my tongue out and touch or almost touch your balls. I like that when you nut you always slide it into my throat and my cheeks pool with saliva as its passageway is blocked."

The laughter left his face. He was no longer sitting arms crossed; he was now leaning across the table. I could smell his testosterone. I had him. "I like how it looks. Once the foreskin has been pulled back—taut-when it's fully erect and the tip is about two shades lighter than the shaft. I like how the line of demarcation becomes so evident when it's at its full mast. I like how the veins stand out along the shaft and are slightly raised. I like that you are so meticulous in your grooming, that you don't stop with just your goatee and you don't completely wipe away the signs of maturity. I like that it always looks so damn intimidating when erect. I like that it jumps and bobs under its own weight when you're standing in front of me as I'm on my knees. I like when you stroke it, using my saliva or the wetness from between my thighs as lubricant. I like when sometimes we're moving too fast and not in sync, and it misses my opening slides up between my second set of lips to my clit. I like when the head taps atop my clit and the shaft slides up and down between my folds."

I slipped my red pump off my right foot and stretched my leg out under the table till it met the inside of his left calf. David didn't even flinch when my foot made contact with his body. I continued to raise my foot along his denim-clad leg, up to his muscular thigh. My foot searched, his legs widened, and above the table we never let on to what was happening beneath.

"I like how I can smell its arousal. In fact I can smell you now, here at this table, in this restaurant full of people. I smell that you want me. That it is awake, searching for me. Seeking my wet mouth, tight pussy. It wants to be inside me." He closed his eyes; his thick lashes fanning out in their full lusciousness. When he opened his eyes again, his pupils were dilated. His eyes were normally this amazing teddy bear brown, and now they were damn near black. Then my foot found what it was searching for. He was hard. Not rock solid, but I could definitely trace his dick print with my foot.

"I like that when I've been sucking on the head and you snatch it from my lips, there's this audible pop. I like when you decide to take things at the speed and depth that it wants, and it makes me gag. It makes me cough and makes my eyes water when it slides into my throat too fast. I like when my own juices are overflowing and it slides inside me, and all we hear besides our moans, groans and heavy breathing is the wet connection of our bodies." I paused, raised a brow and slowly sat back into my chair so that I was no longer leaning across the table. I took taste of my cocktail and flexed my toes along his dick as I sipped.

"And that is what I like about your dick."

...to be continued.

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