I Sucked Cock for Iced Coffee

A few days had passed since John Brownstone threw down the gauntlet and made me a coffee offer I couldn’t (but still did) refuse.

The last batch of iced coffee had been finished. He’d made more using the Guatemala Antigua blend I adore (from Starbucks). Hands down the best coffee. Ever.

But it wasn’t ready to drink, and there was one more step to go. (We use the Coffee Sock cold brew method, if you’re curious.)

Would he make me wait for the smooth bliss of my favorite cold brew? Was my next cup contingent on getting his cock sucked? Dare I ask? (He’s a sadist…if I hand him the opportunity to torture me, he’ll take it. He always does.)

After a marathon session of reading Masturbation Monday (two weeks worth, 50+ posts), I knew what I needed to do.

Which smutty story got me worked up? I don’t know. But I knew what had to be done, especially when I looked up and saw him dozing on the couch.

You might imagine some sensual, sexy moves. Where I practically slither into his lap and fall onto his cock with greedy delight. My moves are smooth and practiced, dripping with heat and desire.

I like how you think, but um, no.

I knew the tile floor would kill my knees so I placed a pillow on the floor by the couch — and then scooted up so that I could easily reach his crotch. As quietly as I could, I took the iPad and pillow from his lap (he’d dozed off while reading). I moved everything out of the way and then realized we had a problem.

His shorts didn’t have a button and zipper. And they were firmly around his waist.

At that moment, I looked up and saw him staring at me through bleary, sleepy eyes.

“Can I help you?”

Uhhhhh…think quick. This is supposed to be a sexy surprise!

“I think I’m here to help you.”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Subtle isn’t my strength. Better to be direct.

“Well, I want iced coffee, and you want your cock sucked.”

So much for surprising him with a blowjob or waking him up with one.

It shows how deeply he’d been napping that it still took him a moment to realize what I was saying. But when he did, he lifted his hips, understanding the problem.

He wasn’t even hard. Not that it mattered. Give me a moment, and we’ll fix that. 

I buried my face in his crotch. His cock was silky soft. His skin smelled clean. I inhaled deeply. The scent of sweat and arousal can be sexy, but this freshly showered smell drives me wild. My mouth watered. I was happy to lick and suck for as long as possible.

I alternated between sucking him deep which soothes him and teasing his glans with the tip of my tongue which makes his back arch and his breathing change. Though I’d worried I’d lost some of my moves, I quickly found the rhythm.

He’s not the only sadist around here. Every time he relaxed while I worshipped his entire shaft, I’d focus my energies in the one spot that drives him wild. When he seemed ready to tip over an edge (primarily the edge where he throws me to the ground and does whatever the fuck he wants), I switched again. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Until…

It was time to pick a kid up from school.

Oh, you expected a sexy climax, did you? Well, he’s masturbated at least once since then, and I’ve had a few cups of my favorite iced coffee — so we’re both satisfied.

Welcome to Masturbation Monday! I think I’ve just shown that I’ll trade sexual favors for coffee. *shrugs* It’s a mood.

For more smut, you know where to go!