Chapter 445: The Lollipop Treatment (R-18)
She glanced up at once, checking. The look on his face must have been enough; she licked there again, slower, then sucked one gently into her mouth like she was experimenting with the idea. His groan went ragged. She filed that away and came back up.
The head got the lollipop treatment next. She closed her lips around just the tip and sucked, shallow, wet, pulling off with a small sound that made him swear. A bead of precum welled; she licked it off while holding eye contact, then did it again, swirling her tongue around the slit like she was trying to learn the taste.
"That," Stan got out. "fuck, you’re pretty good at this, even though it’s your first."
Mia’s cheeks were hot, feeling embarrassed and happy at the compliment at thesame time. Still, She didn’t look away.
She licked along the length next, base to head, then head to base, leaving him shining in the amber dark. One hand stayed wrapped around the lower half, stroking the way she imagined a lollipop stick needed holding. Every time he twitched she made a tiny sound of surprise, like she still couldn’t believe it moved because of her.
He’s so big in the light. In my hand. If I put more of him in my mouth I don’t know if I’ll do it right. I want to. I want him to make that sound again.
Stan reached down and tucked her hair behind her ear so nothing hid her face. His thumb brushed her cheek.
"Open," he said, gentle. Dirty. "Not all of it. Just the head first. Get it wet. Use your tongue under the ridge, yeah. Like that. Fuck."
She followed. Lips sealing, tongue working that spot he’d named, eyes still on him. The heat of her mouth was sudden and soft and wetter than her hand had been. Stan’s breath punched out of him.
"That’s good. That’s so fucking good. Now take a little more. Hand on what you can’t fit. Twist when you stroke, slow. Don’t rush. I want to feel you learning it."
Mia hummed around him without meaning to. The vibration made his abs jump. She hollowed her cheeks the way she thought she was supposed to and sucked, then pulled back to lick a stripe along the shaft again, then took the head like a lollipop, messy now, spit starting to shine down toward her fist.
"Look at you," Stan said, voice gone low. "Sneaking into my room to grind on me and now you’ve got my dick in your mouth like you’ve been wondering about it all week. Have you?"
She pulled off just enough to answer, lips wet, the head resting against her lower lip.
"Yes."
The word was still innocent. It still wrecked him.
"Good girl. Come here. Suck. I’ll tell you if I want it deeper. For now just, fuck, just keep doing that with your tongue."
She did. She sucked the tip, licked his balls when she needed air, stroked the thick base, then took him again, a little farther each time, always checking his face. When she found a rhythm that made his thigh tense, she stayed on it. When he groaned louder she did that thing again on purpose, eyes bright with the discovery.
The feeling of her mouth was heat and silk and inexperience that somehow made it filthier, the careful seal, the shy swirl, the way she drooled a little and didn’t stop to wipe it, the way she kept staring like his pleasure was a map she refused to get wrong.
Stan’s hand settled at the back of her head. Not pushing. Guiding. A suggestion of pace.
"That’s it. Wet. Slow. You don’t have to take it all. Use your hand. Squeeze when you come up. Yeah, Mia, just like that."
She moaned around him, the sound small and pleased, and the vibration ran down his cock like a current. He swore again, softer, almost laughing from how much it was.
"You’re going to kill me looking at me like that while you do it," he said. "You know that? All shy in the doorway and now you’re licking my balls to see if I twitch."
Mia’s eyes crinkled. She did it again on purpose. He twitched. She looked smug for half a second, then went back to sucking the head like a lollipop, slower, sloppier, determined.
The amber light held. His breathing didn’t. And Mia, on her knees in the gold dark, kept studying his face like every groan was a gift she intended to memorize.
She stayed on the head a little longer, like she was gathering nerve. Spit had already made a mess of her fist and the thick shaft she couldn’t fit. Stan’s thumb stroked her cheek once, patient, wrecked.
"You don’t have to," he said. "What you’re doing is already..."
Mia took a breath, held his eyes, and sank.
Not all at once. She pushed forward until the head hit the back of her mouth and her throat fluttered around the idea of more. Her eyes watered. She didn’t pull off. She swallowed around him instead, clumsy and brave, and the tight wet clutch of it dragged a sound out of Stan that wasn’t a word.
"Fuck, Mia, easy..."
She came up gasping, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the flushed head. Then she went again, deeper than the last time, hand sliding down to the base so she could feed herself onto him. The first real breach of her throat made her gag, a wet little choke that squeezed him so hard his hips jerked before he locked them down.
She’s trying to take it. She’s actually trying to put all of that in her mouth.
"Breathe through your nose," he got out. "When it hits, swallow. Don’t force, yeah. Like that. Oh my god."
Mia’s eyes stayed on his even as they shone. She pulled back to the tip, sucked like a lollipop to recover, then slid down again, taking more than she thought she could. The thick ridge dragged over her tongue. The head punched into the squeeze of her throat and stayed there for a trembling second while she hummed, helpless, trying to keep the seal.