The front door clicked shut behind them, the sound swallowed by the thick silence of the flat. Jo took off her coat and went into the kitchen. Andy followed. She filled the kettle and set it to boil.
Andy leaned against the counter, watching her, his fingers drumming absently against the worktop. He knew what was coming. They’d made the deal on the way home, half-joking, half-serious, the kind of negotiation that started with a smirk and ended with a challenge. 'You get naked. I’ll make the tea.' Simple. Direct. And now, the kettle was hissing to life, the steam curling upward like a dare.
Jo turned, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyebrows arched. “Well?”
Andy didn’t need to be told twice. He toed off his trainers first. His belt came next, the leather whispering through the loops of his jeans before he popped the button and dragged the zipper down. The denim pooled at his ankles, and he kicked free, stepping out of the puddle of fabric with a smirk. His t-shirt was last, yanked up and over his head in one smooth motion, leaving him bare in the middle of the kitchen, the air cool against his skin.
Jo didn’t hide the fact that she was looking. Her gaze raked over him, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way his cock hung between his legs—not hard, not soft, just there, heavy and inviting, the head already glistening with the first hints of arousal. She licked her lips, her tongue tracing the seam of them before she reached out, her fingers hovering just shy of touching him. “Fuck,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “You’re such a handsome man. So fucking sexy.”
Andy’s breath hitched, his dick twitching at her words, the weight of her attention making him thicken just a little more. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just let her look, let her want.
The kettle clicked off, the silence broken only by the soft clink of ceramic as Jo turned to pour the water over the tea bags. She moved quickly, efficiently, her hands steady despite the heat pooling low in her belly. The mugs hit the counter with a little more force than necessary, the tea sloshing over the rims. She didn’t bother wiping it up. Instead, she grabbed both mugs in one hand and nodded toward the living room. “Sit. Or rather—stand.”
Andy followed, his feet silent on the hardwood, his cock swinging with each step. Jo settled onto the sofa, her legs slightly parted, the fabric of her skirt riding up just enough to tease. She set the mugs on the coffee table, then patted the cushion beside her. “No, not there. "Here.” She pointed to the space in front of her, her fingers curling in a *come hither* that made Andy’s pulse spike.
He obeyed, stepping between her spread knees, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Jo didn’t waste time. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over the tip of his cock before her tongue darted out, probing at the slit. Andy groaned, his fingers flexing at his sides, his hips jerking forward without permission. Jo chuckled, the vibration making him shudder, before she took him into her mouth—slow, deliberate, her lips sealing around the head before she sank down, her throat opening to take him deeper.
He wasn’t hard yet, but he was *getting there*, his dick swelling against her tongue, the veins thickening beneath her lips. Jo hummed around him, the sound filthy and wet, her cheeks hollowing as she pulled back before diving down again. Her hand wrapped around the base, her fingers stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach, her nails dragging lightly over his balls. Andy’s breath came in sharp gasps, his thighs trembling, his cock throbbing as it filled out, stretching her lips obscenely.
“Fuck, Jo—” His voice was rough, strained, his fingers tangling in her hair as she worked him over. She could taste the salt of him, the musk of his arousal, her own pussy clenching in response, her panties already damp. She pulled off with a wet *pop*, her lips slick, her chin shiny. “You like that, don’t you?” she murmured, her thumb swiping over the head, smearing the precum before she licked it off.
Jo grinned, took him back into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the ridge of his crown before she hollowed her cheeks and *sucked*. Andy’s fingers tightened in her hair, his breath stuttering as his cock jerked, swelling even more. She could feel him getting closer, the way his muscles locked, the way his breath hitched. She pulled back just enough to murmur, “Gonna cum for me, baby?” before diving down again, her throat fluttering around the head.
“I'm gonna—” His voice was a warning, a plea, his hand leaving her hair to wrap around the base of his cock. Jo let him go with a wet sound, her lips glistening, her eyes locked on his as he stroked himself, his fist flying over his length. “Take your top off,” he demande , his gaze burning into her.
Jo didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the hem of her top and yanked it up, and over her head, leaving her breasts bare, her nipples already hard, aching. Andy’s breath stuttered, his hand moving faster, his cock twitching in his grip. “Fuck, yes—” The first rope of cum hit her chest, thick and hot, splattering over her collarbone before the next shot painted her tit, the white streaks stark against her skin. Jo moaned, arching into it, her fingers digging into the cushion beneath her as Andy groaned, his cum pulsing out of him, coating her in ribbons of heat. She was covered, her skin slick with it, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she watched him milk the last drops from his cock, his chest heaving.
“Fuck,” Andy panted, his hand falling away, his cock still half-hard, glistening. Jo didn’t give him a second to recover. She cupped her tits, smearing the cum over her skin, her fingers dragging through the mess before she brought them to her mouth, licking them clean with a filthy little moan. “God, you’re such a slut for this, aren’t you?” Andy said quite softly.
Jo just smirked, her fingers still playing in the cum on her chest. “Your slut.”
Andy’s laugh was breathless, but it cut off as his bladder reminded him it was full. " I gotta piss. Be right back” He turned toward the hallway, his cock still damp, his steps a little unsteady.
Jo followed.
She often did.
Andy didn’t question it when he heard her footsteps behind him, he moved to the toilet, his fingers wrapping around his cock. He was still sensitive, the skin tender from her mouth, from his own grip, but the pressure was insistent, his bladder full to bursting.
Jo leaned against the sink, her arms crossed under her cum-smeared tits, her skirt still hitched up enough to show the tops of her thighs. She liked to watch. Liked the way his face twisted when he let go, the way his body relaxed after. But tonight, she wasn’t just here to watch.
Andy glanced at her as he lined himself up, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock. “You’re covered in cum*,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Jo grinned, slow and wicked. “I know.”
She dropped to her knees beside him, the tile cold against her skin. “Use me." She says
Andy’s breath hitched, his cock twitching in his hand. He turned his head, his gaze locking onto hers.
Jo opened her mouth, her tongue pressing flat against her lower lip, her eyes never leaving his.
Andy groaned, the sound raw, needy. He turned toward her, his cock already thickening again, the urge to piss warring with the urge to fuck. But Jo was already there, her lips parted, her hand reaching up to guide him in. The first warm stream hit the back of her throat, the taste sharp and salty, the heat of it flooding her mouth. She swallowed once, twice, but there was too much, the pressure too strong. It spilled over her lips, dripping down her chin, running over her tits, mixing with the cum already drying on her skin.
Andy’s free hand tangled in her hair, his fingers tightening as he emptied himself into her, his breath coming in sharp gasps. “Fuck, Jo—” His voice was a growl, his hips jerking forward as the last of it left him, his cock softening in her grip.
Jo pulled back with a wet sound, her lips slick, her chin dripping. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, then smeared the mess over her tits, her fingers dragging through the combined fluids, her breath coming in sharp little pants. “Good?” she murmured, her voice husky.
Andy’s laugh was breathless, his chest heaving. “You’re perfect.”
Jo grinned, pushing herself up, her body still trembling.
Andy reached for the shower knob, twisting it until the water ran warm. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling her under the spray with him. The water hit her skin, washing away the cum, the piss, the filth of the encounter. Andy grabbed the sponge, lathering it up before dragging it over her body, his touch gentle. He cleaned her thoroughly, his fingers tracing over her collarbone, her breasts, the dip of her waist, before dropping to his knees to wash her thighs, her pussy, the backs of her knees.
Jo leaned against the tile, her head tipped back, her breath steadying as the heat seeped into her bones. Andy rinsed the sponge, then pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering. “You're Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice warm, affectionate. “My good, filthy girl.”
Jo smiled, her eyes still closed, her body humming with satisfaction. “Always. Only for you.”
And that was the truth of it.