Chapter 124 | Please, Use My Mouth (18+)

"Lie down," she said. "Just rest. That's all. You need to sleep."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to get up, walk out the door, and put as much distance between himself and this situation as physically possible. But his body had other ideas. He was tired.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to lay down.

The ceiling above him was white and boring, making him close his eyes as the tension in his muscles began to unspool.

For a long moment, there was silence. Just the hum of the Air conditioner and the distant murmur of the city below.

Then he felt the bed shift as Jasmine moved.

He felt the warmth of her body as it drew near as she crawled towards him.

His eyes suddenly snapped open and she

was directly above him. Kneeling beside him.

Her dark hair fell around her face in loose waves, and her eyes were soft.

"Let me take care of you," she whispered. "You've been taking care of everyone else all day. Let someone take care of you for once."

"Jasmine..."

"Just rest. I'm not going to do anything you don't want. I promise."

Her hands found his shoulders. She began to knead the muscles there, her fingers strong and practiced, working the knots of tension that had been building for a while.

Andrew sighed as a comfortable and warm feeling settled. Warmth spread through his shoulders and down his spine.

She was really good as she worked her way down, her hands moving with slow, confident strokes.

"You're carrying too much tension here," she murmured, her fingers finding a particularly

knot at the base of his neck and she massaged it. Andrew inhaled sharply and then sighed as the knot released. "And here. Your muscles is really tight.

Andrew couldn't respond. The exhaustion and the massage and the warmth of the room and the lavender scent were all blending together into a heavy, golden haze that immediately made him dizzy and half asleep.

Her hands moved lower. Down his arms, across his chest. Her fingers finding every ache and pain and knot and dissolving them one by one. When she reached his hands, she took each finger individually, pressing and rolling the joints.

"Turn over," she said.

His body obeyed her before his mind could intervene.

She worked his front with the same thoroughness. Shoulders, arms, chest, stomach. Her hands were warm and firm and

professional, and Andrew found himself relaxing into the mattress and was staring to dozz off.

Then her hands went lower and Lower until she reached his waist band.

A part of the cloudiness in his mind faded and he managed to speak.

"Jasmine, I don't this is a good idea."

"It doesn't have to be a good idea," she said. Her fingers traced the line of his hip. "It just has to feel good. And I promise you, it will."

She was already moving. Her hands found his waistband. Her fingers hooked the fabric and

pulled his pants down.

His cock sprang free. Heavy. Thick. Long. 12

inches of meat that was, even by the standards of adult men, absurdly large. It lay against his stomach, half-hard, the shaft thick and veined, the head dark and swollen, the balls heavy and full beneath.

Jasmine stared.

Her eyes went wide. Her lips parted. Her breath came out in a rush, a sharp exhale that sounded almost like a gasp.

She had known he was big. She had suspected it from the bulge she had caught glimpses of during the expedition.

But knowing and seeing were two different things. And seeing Andrew's cock, fully exposed, was something else entirely.

"Holy shit," she breathed. The words came out reverent. Almost worshipful. "You're... that's..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. Her hand reached out, almost of its own accord, and wrapped around the shaft.

Her fingers couldn't even close around it. The girth was too much and she had to adjust her grip, holding him with both hands, the head still poking out above her fist.

"You're huge," she said. Her voice had dropped an octave, husky and thick. "How are you this big?"

She stopped trying to make sense of it when lust took control.

She started to stroke him slowly. Both hands moving in together like a small right vagina, sliding along the shaft with a firm pressure. ℴℴ𝘮

Andrew's cock responded immediately, hardening under her touch, growing thicker and longer and heavier until it stood straight up from his body, a column of flesh so large it looked almost comical against his lean teenage frame.

Jasmine's mouth watered with lust and something trickled down her pussy as saliva pooling under her tongue, the involuntary response of a body that knew what it wanted.

She leaned forward. Her hair fell around her face, curtaining them both, and she pressed her lips to the head.

The contact was electric. Andrew's hips jerked, a sharp involuntary thrust that pushed the head past her lips and into her mouth.

She tasted him and the taste was salty, and musky and masculine. The taste sent a shiver through her body like a jolt of electricity.

She moved her head forward and she took him in. Inch by inch.

Slowly. Her jaw stretched to accommodate his girth, her lips tight around the shaft, her tongue working the underside with slow, deliberate strokes.

She could feel every vein, every ridge, every pulse of blood through the thick meat filling her mouth.

It was too much, too big for her and simply too thick. Her jaw ached as her throat stretched wide.

But she kept going.

Six inches. Seven. Eight. She felt him hit the back of her throat and suppressed a gag, breathing through her nose and relaxing her muscles, letting him slide deeper.

Nine inches.

Ten.

The shaft curved down her throat, stretching her open, and she swallowed around him, her throat muscles contracting rapidly.

Eleven inches, then her nose pressed against his pelvis. She had taken all of him. All twelve inches down her slutty throat.