“That, Preppy, was an amazing fucking blowie. How the fuck are you a pro on the first try?” It’s like he gets As in everything he does. He ducks his head into the crook of my neck, his breathy laugh tickling my skin. “I think it’s my new favorite thing,” he admits shyly. “Yeah?” He nods into my neck, whispering, “Can I do it again later?” I softly trail my fingers up and down his spine, eliciting a delicious shiver from him. “Fuck, yeah, you can. Anytime, Preppy. Any. Fucking. Time. Day or night.”
