Chapter 3

Miranda

My kiss with Simon consumes my every waking thought and appears in my dreams. That was the very first time I'd ever been kissed, and now I'm hungry for more. The unexpected pressure of his mouth against mine was divine. There was a subtle intimacy to it that I didn't know I've been craving.

Jenny, my roommate, can tell there's something up with me. She asked me a few times before I left for work today if something had happened between Simon and I. I assured her that there was nothing notable to report, but it's obvious she didn't believe me. To avoid her prying questions, I left early for my closing shift. Now I'm sitting in my car in the parking lot with time to kill.

My mind drifts back to the practice kiss from two nights ago. I never expected the learning opportunity would also include kissing. In fact, I figured that Simon would let me flirt with him until he finally got tired of my attention and told me to stop. I wonder what the limits are. Maybe things have the potential to get more… physical.

I don't know how to ask for anything more, though. I'm fairly certain subjects like these require a kind of subtlety that I don't possess. Do I try to drop hints? If so, what kind? Maybe it would just be better if I came right out and asked for what I want. But what is it that I want?

Eventually I want to have sex, and I'd love for Simon to take my virginity. It feels a little greedy to ask for that when all we've done is kiss.

There are other acts of intimacy we could engage in, though. I could ask if he'd let me practice my oral skills on him. That doesn't feel as demanding. I'd be giving him pleasure, and I could make it clear that I don't expect anything in return.

With my mind made up and ten minutes left before my shift starts, I get out of my car and head into Lucky's. I greet my coworkers before clocking in, and a few minutes later, my first table of the night walks in. By the time I get their food on the table, Simon's arrived and gone to his office.

I spend my entire shift trying to find a minute to get him alone. Unfortunately, the dinner rush comes early and lasts longer than usual. I'm running back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen the entire night, and when I catch glimpses of Simon, he's supporting me and the other servers. By the time we're able to talk, the restaurant is half an hour from closing.

"Talk about a busy night," I say, sliding up to him in the kitchen where he's waiting for an order for a dissatisfied table.

"You can say that again," he mumbles, watching the cooks as they plate the burger. "You make good money?"

"I haven't checked yet," I admit, bouncing on the balls of my feet nervously. There are too many people around for me to ask about more practice, but I want to say something. So I ask, "Can we talk in your office after close?"

That gets his attention, and he inclines his head toward me. My breath catches in my chest, and my heart pounds. I haven't even said anything yet, but I feel like I might as well have with how anxious his intense gaze makes me.

"Sure," he says after a beat. "Everything okay?"

"Yep, perfect," I say, wincing at how forced it sounds. "I just wanted to talk about… practice. It's nothing bad!"

His eyes roam my face, then he grunts in acknowledgement. When he turns back toward the line cooks, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I retreat back into the dining room and make myself busy with checking on my tables. I don't see Simon again until I'm mopping the floors.

"You just about finished out here?" he asks the bartender.

I can't hear the bartender's response, but I assume he says yes. Simon accepts a slip of paper from him and takes the drawer from his register. Then he makes his way to me with one of those unreadable expressions on his face.

"Everyone but the dishwasher should be out of here soon," he tells me, putting his free hand on the mop handle to stop my scrubbing. "Is that alright? I can ask Casey to stay if you're not comfortable being here alone with me."

"Being alone with you isn't a problem," I say, tilting my head curiously. "Why would you think that?"

"It's not important," he replies. "I'll be waiting for you in the office."

With that, he turns around and heads back to his office. As soon as he's out of sight, I go back to mopping. I finish quickly, eager to get to Simon. Clearly, my question earlier led him to believe that I don't want to be around him. I want to rectify that as soon as possible.

When I get to the office, Simon nods at me, but doesn't tell me to close the door like he did last time. I do it anyway, and after it clicks into place, I sit down next to him with my checkout slip. I'm sure nervous energy is rolling off of me in waves. If I knew how to stop it, I would.

"I can't read your mind," he says when he takes the paper from my hand. "You're going to have to tell me what you're thinking."

"Well," I start, trying to gather my thoughts. Whatever confidence I had earlier is quickly being dwarfed by my fear of being rejected. "You know how I don't have any experience."

He hums, punching numbers into his computer without looking at me. I take that as my cue to keep going.

"Let's say things go further than flirting with someone I'm interested in," I posit, picking at the skin next to my thumbnail. "I don't know what to do then."

"What do you mean?" he asks after a long pause.

"I mean… what if I want to give him pleasure? I don't know how to do it," I say, feeling my face get impossibly hot. "What if I'm bad at it?"

"Whatever you do, I'm sure any man would be satisfied," Simon murmurs, still not looking at me even though he's no longer typing.

"Yeah, but…" I start, gathering up the courage to tell him what I want. "Wouldn't it be better if I had a little bit of practice first?"

His head snaps up to meet my gaze, and his pupils are blown so wide that I can barely see the hazel of his irises. "And what kind of practice do you think you need?"

"I think I want to practice giving a blow job," I say, unable to maintain eye contact while I speak. "I know your offer was just to practice flirting, but –"

"I can teach you," he cuts me off, his voice hot like whiskey. "Get on your knees."

His tone leaves no room for any more discussion, and even if it did, I don't want to talk anymore. I want to get him in my mouth. I want to make him feel good. So I slide out of my chair and kneel before him.

"Fuck," he breathes, looking down at me. After taking in my appearance, he says, "Unbuckle my pants, baby. Take my cock out."

My hands shake and my breath comes out ragged as I fumble with the metal closure. The only sound in the room is the rustle of fabric and the zip of the metal teeth containing his hard cock. When I see the bulge in his black boxers, my mouth starts to water. I can't get it out of its confines fast enough.

Simon's length springs free, and without thinking, I wrap my hand around it. It's so thick that I'm surprised it fits in my grasp. When I give him an experimental stroke, he curses softly and his hips shift forward.

The reaction does something funny to my body. I feel my panties getting damp, and a pleasant tingling starts low in my stomach.

"That feels good," he says softly. "Try licking the tip."

I lean forward, eager to please him. My tongue darts out, sliding over the smooth, velvety skin. He's salty, unlike anything I've ever tasted before. It's uniquely Simon, and I find that I want even more. My desire for him is insatiable.

Without his direction, I sink down, trying to fit as much of him in my mouth as I can. Almost immediately, his cock hits the back of my throat and I have to pull off. As I'm coughing and spluttering, he chuckles gently and smooths my hair to placate me. While I catch my breath, he murmurs reassurances.

"You'll have to work up to deepthroating me, baby," he coos, tilting my head up to force me to look at him. "Start with a little less, and wrap your hand around what you can't fit in your mouth."

"Okay," I whisper before shifting my gaze back to his member.

This time, I take him slowly, his girth stretching my jaw open. When I get as much of him as I dare past my lips, I use my right hand to cover the rest of his cock. Simon makes a pleased noise low in his chest, and I take that as my cue to bob my head shallowly. He sighs, and his fingers twitch against my scalp.

"That's it," he says as I sink down onto his cock again. "Hollow your cheeks a little. You can suck harder. Oh. That's perfect, sweetheart. You're doing so well."

I soak up Simon's praise. It makes me feel like I'm boiling in the best way. As steam builds in my gut and his sounds become increasingly unrestrained, I try taking in even more of his length. Then, on my next upstroke, I swirl my tongue around the head.

"Fuck," he curses, his fingers tangling in my hair. "You're a natural, Miranda. Your mouth feels incredible. Look at me, baby."

I hadn't even realized my eyes were closed until he mentioned it. At first, it feels like I'm underwater – everything is blurry and out of focus. Finally, Simon comes into sight. It's like he's the only thing that it isn't soft around the edges. He's my lifeline, the only thing that matters.

"God, you're gorgeous," he growls. "Such a pretty little thing with my cock in your mouth. I'm close, sweetheart. You want me to cum down your throat? You want to swallow my load?"

I hum around his length in affirmation, unable to give him a proper answer. Before this started, I hadn't considered how it would end. Now that Simon's suggested it, I've decided there's nothing I want more than for him to finish in my mouth. In an effort to encourage him, I suck harder and bob my head faster.

"Oh my God, Miranda," he groans, sounding strung out and completely gone. "I'm so close. Gonna cum right in your hot little mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

His hips twitch forward, then my mouth is filled with his hot, salty seed. I swallow around his length, continuing to suck as he cums. I greedily suck him dry, taking everything he can give me, not stopping until he yanks me off. Then, as he stares down at me with his chest heaving, I feel a surge of white-hot anticipation.