One Little Question

"I could say the same about your shirt," I said.

He adjusted the blanket over us, then put his left arm around my shoulder as he moved in close enough that the sides of our bodies were pressed together. "I'm not cold."

I bit my lip nervously. For a few moments, we both stared forward, watching... I couldn't have even said what part of the movie it was. I was too busy trying to figure out what to say, how to tell him, if it was even worth saying something or if it was one of those things that I would just take to my grave because if I told him, he would—

"So that question Candice had," Rob said conversationally. "How'd that come up?"

"Um... because of my cookies," I answered.

A startled laugh jostled me. "Your meltaways? How?"

"Someone made a joke that... it was Phoebe, I think actually... Phoebe said they were the kind of cookies a guy would go down on you for."

"She thought you needed to make cookies for that to happen?"

"Well, it's not like she knows you." I swallowed hard. "But, um, since we're talking about that, I—"

"It's just the craziest thing," Rob interrupted. "How that one little question got the crew talking today. And all the different opinions and ways the guys go about it. Seth almost walked off the site when he said he wasn't into it because the rest of us are all about it, you know? And we couldn't believe that Laura puts up with a guy who won't go down on her."

I frowned. "I thought there were two outliers."

"Benny said he wasn't super into it, but that he very enthusiastically does it when Denise asks for it. And that's kind of funny, you know?"

"That... that he does it anyway and Seth won't?"

His arm suddenly felt very heavy around my shoulder.

"Nah," he said. "That she asks for it."

That word again. Ask.

"How is that funny?" I said.

"Well, it just got me thinking," he said, his voice still casual. "All the guys talking about how their women beg to get their pussies eaten and all that. How their partners react when the guys are down there. Making them writhe and squirm and pull their hair... when they have hair, I guess."

He chuckled dryly and I joined in, though mine was a lot weaker. The hand that was over my shoulder began to move, his fingertips walking along my bare arm below the sleeve of my t-shirt.

"And I thought, you know, imagine you were the kind of guy who just—" He tapped lightly on my bicep. "—fucking—" Another tap, a little harder that time. "—loved—" A third tap, the hardest of all, as he spoke that word. "—eating pussy, and you were sitting there thinking you knew how to properly spoil your woman with your tongue, only to realize that she never quite reacts like that."

"Rob—" I breathed.

"Imagine that," he continued. "Realizing in front of all your coworkers that she doesn't ask for it. She doesn't beg for it the way the others do. That after all those times you've eaten her pussy, it sounds like she might not be enjoying it anywhere near as much as she could. Wouldn't that be such an embarrassing way to find out you sucked at eating pussy?"

No one told him.

No one had told him what I'd said, but he'd figured it out all the same. I swallowed back my nerves, hoping he couldn't feel me tremble. "I-It would be."

"It would, wouldn't it?" he murmured. "And I thought, damn, if I was that guy, I'd be so mad. I'd think to myself, 'Why wouldn't my woman tell me that?' You know? 'Why wouldn't my woman tell me I wasn't pleasing her when she knows that's always my main goal with her?' Wouldn't you be so mad if it was you, baby girl?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, Rob twisted, pulling the blanket away and bringing his right hand up to my throat so quickly that I almost flinched. Then his face was in front of mine, his dark blue eyes glimmering with something needy and deep and...

And exciting.

"It's a good thing that's not us, isn't it?" he said. "Because I'm sure my woman would tell me if I wasn't eating her pussy right."

"I t-tried to—" I gasped, but suddenly he was kissing me and his mouth absorbed what I was trying to say.

"What do you say if you want me to stop?" he whispered against my lips, his voice serious but kind.

And I knew.

We were okay.

I was okay, and I was safe with him like I always was, and the fear I'd had that he was actually upset about this faded from my stomach, replaced by something eager and fervent and excited.

"Muppet," I answered promptly, my voice squeaking out our safeword in a breathless tone.

"Good girl." His hand tightened around my throat, and then the sweetness of his voice was gone. "Now see, there was another big problem with Candice asking that damn question. Do you know what it was, baby girl?"

I shook my head. And by that, I meant that I shifted my neck in a way that Rob could feel so he knew I was saying no, since he was holding my throat tight enough that I couldn't actually move my neck. Not quite tight enough to choke me—he wasn't adding pressure yet, wasn't giving me the thrill of losing control of my breath—but tight enough that I was completely at his mercy, pinned back against the couch and in his arms.

"It was that all damn day now, I've been thinking about coming home, pinning you down, and getting my mouth on your sweet little pussy."

"Oh," I breathed.

"But you're going to ask me for it," he said. "And Halle?"

I stared into his eyes, mine wide and curious and focused entirely on him.

"You're not leaving this couch until you come on my face." He began to squeeze, began taking my breath into his hand as my heart began to race. "And I'll know if you're faking it. And if you try to, there will be hell to pay."

Oh God.

Oh, God.

We were going to be there forever.

I'd never come from oral before. It was just one of those things that hadn't worked for me. It wasn't Rob specifically—I'd never had anyone make me come like that. I liked how it felt and I would get close, but something would stop me from going over the edge each time. Between that and Rob's... um, technique, I guess it could be called...

I was worried.

Just a little worried.

But before I could overthink about it, Rob's lips were on mine again, stealing my ability to take in those shallow breaths of air as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. His beard was rough against my skin as he indulged me with kisses and I kissed him back eagerly until I had no choice but to struggle to gasp for breath. Just when I started to see spots in my eyes, he pulled back and let go of my throat all at once.

I gulped in a huge breath of air, gasping as I looked up at him. There was a lopsided smirk on his face as he let me breathe.

"You good?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," I replied, then remembered what he'd said about asking him. "Will you eat my pussy please, baby?"

He laughed.

He actually laughed.

"Oh no, baby girl," he said. "When I said you were going to ask for it, I meant you were going to beg for it. And we're not there yet."

Then he kissed me again, though he didn't bring his hand back to my throat. Instead, it moved to my thigh, cupping the side of it before dragging his palm up to my hip. There, he toyed with the band of my panties—just a simple pair of pink bikini-cut cotton ones—before trailing his fingers up my side and making me shiver.

I wasn't wearing a bra because why the fuck would I? I was at home. I wore a bra as little as possible, partly because they were uncomfortable and mainly because two years earlier, Rob had taken me to get my nipples pierced for our anniversary.

At my request, of course.

It was a long, long, long few months of healing time where he couldn't play with them, but it was worth it. Now, one of Rob's favourite things in the entire world was when I wore thin t-shirts with no bra so he could see the little barbells poking through the fabric.

So no bras at home had become my default.

That meant when he reached my breasts, there was nothing there to stop him from immediately cupping one of them in his large hand. I moaned as he squeezed, shifting on the couch as he flicked his thumb across my nipple, then again when he pinched it between his fingers and twisted it ever so slightly.

"God, you're so responsive," he growled against my lips. "Do you know how much I love that about you, Halle? Listening to you moan whenever you like something? It's so fucking good. So fucking hot."

"Yes," I breathed. "I know. You've told me."

He chuckled. "Good. Do it more."

I let my lips curl up into a mischievous smile. "Yes, sir."

Instantly, his hand left my breast and clamped around my throat, shoving my head back against the couch.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?" he asked coldly.

I swallowed, knowing he felt my throat flex under his palm. "Not to."

"What did I say to call me instead?"

"Rob. Or baby. But not 'sir.'"

"And what did you just do?"

I licked my lips, trying not to smirk at him. "I'm sorry, sir."

His hand tightened. "You know you can just ask me to choke you harder, right?"

"Ungh," I said, because it was the only noise I could make.

He kissed me again, then bit down on my lower lip, which made me make a strange squeaking noise. A moment later, he released my throat, replacing his hand with his mouth and kissing the tender skin along my neck.

I sighed as he did, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed his way down to my collarbone and the V-neck of my t-shirt. I shifted on the couch, moving forward in anticipation for him to tug my shirt up like he always did so he could kiss and lick and suck my breasts, but he brought his hand to my shoulder and pushed me down. Frowning, I looked down, watching as instead of stripping me, he moved his lips over the thin fabric.

His hand moved from my shoulder to my breast, squeezing it gently as he found my nipple through the fabric. Enthralled, I watched as he nuzzled the hard little nub, then nearly jumped out of his arms and off the couch as he sank his teeth into my nipple.

Not hard. Just enough that I felt it, and through the fabric, it didn't actually hurt at all. But my nipples were sensitive and the action shocked me enough that Rob glanced up with raised eyebrows, a question in his eyes as he held my nipple between his teeth.

"Again," I whispered, and I cried out when he listened.

He did it a few more times before switching to my other breast, still keeping his mouth over my t-shirt. It was surprisingly erotic, surprisingly enticing, especially when he started pinching and flicking my nipple, adding a contradictory roughness from the soft fabric.

"You have the best tits, baby girl," he mumbled as he buried his face against my cleavage. "I could do this forever."

"I thought you were going to eat my pussy," I replied.

"I said I could do it forever, not that I will do it forever," he said, then bit the side of my breast, making me squeal before I laughed.

He kept exploring me, kept teasing me, kept tracing the curves of my body and using my t-shirt as a barrier. By the time he reached my hips again, I was almost surprised at how wet I was, given that he wasn't even touching me under my clothes. But I was, and I could feel it, and as his hand slipped between my legs, I knew he felt it too.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So needy."

"I need you to eat my pussy," I said, almost hopefully, but he laughed and shook his head.

"Not until you beg, baby girl."

He traced his thick fingers along my slit, letting the cotton absorb the wetness leaking from my entrance and molding the fabric to my pussy. Then he drew in a breath, kissed me again, and moved away.

There was a slight pause where he used his foot to nudge the coffee table out of the way before he shifted off the couch, falling to his knees on the carpet in front of me. He grabbed my hips, yanked me forward so my ass was on the edge of the cushion, then placed a hand on each of my knees. I watched as he guided my legs apart, baring my still-covered pussy to him.

"You will tell me if you don't like something I do," he said.

It was an order. Not a question. But I nodded all the same. He nodded in return, then leaned forward and...

And kissed my stomach.

I wasn't quite sure why. That was not where my pussy was. But I watched as he nuzzled against it, pressing a kiss around the area of my belly button before moving his head lower, then lower again. Carefully, he moved the hem of my t-shirt up so there was a strip of skin showing just above my panties.

He kissed that strip of skin, then kept up his trail of kisses, pressing them to my pussy overtop of the fabric. I frowned as I watched, unsure of what he was doing; he'd said he wasn't going to eat my pussy until I begged for it, yet there he was, with his head and his mouth between my legs like he was about to... eat my pussy.

A few moments later, I understood.

He nuzzled against my mound, his nose close to bumping my clit, but not quite there. Then his tongue snaked out, a little harder than it usually would as he used it to mimic the way he'd traced my lips with his finger.

Then he... sort of bit me.

In a sexy way.

But not in a biting way.

I had no idea how to explain it. He used his lips to tease mine, sort of pressing down on one side and then the other in a way that was oddly thrilling considering he was... not biting, but... lip-squeezing? I drew in a breath and he looked up, our eyes meeting.

There was a strange look in them, at least for him: uncertainty. Something not quite confident. Not quite sure of what he was doing. Something that was at odds with the man who had just told me I was going to beg for him to eat my pussy. Something that said he'd...

Oh my God.

He'd gone out for drinks with the guys to learn.

It all made sense now.

Rob had figured out that I wasn't as into it as he was. So he'd spent the night going out of his way to find out how to fix it. And now he was trying the things they'd told him to do.

Because he would do anything to make me happy. Anything to make me feel good. Because the fact that he enjoyed eating my pussy more than I enjoyed it wasn't good enough for him; knowing it didn't bring me the same amount of pleasure meant he couldn't enjoy it.

God, I fucking loved him.

"Do it again," I breathed.

The corner of Rob's eyes crinkled and he repeated the strange not-quite-biting action, then buried his face against my panties. I felt something press against my clit—his tongue, I was fairly sure, though with my panties in the way it wasn't quite enough to feel overwhelmingly good—and then his lips were moving again.

He kissed down my slit, then turned his head and peppered kisses along my groin and thigh. As he sucked on the tender skin there, he glanced up every so often to see how I was reacting.

And it was good. I just needed...

"Harder," I whispered.

He raised his eyebrows.

"You can do it a little harder," I repeated. "Just like—oh!"

The gasp came out high pitched as I felt his teeth rake against my skin. There was no way that wasn't going to leave a mark, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that electricity surged over my body from that spot, settling somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach in that place where arousal pooled and begged to be filled. Involuntarily, I shifted my hips, craving the friction between my legs that Rob was very careful not to give me.

He pressed a kiss to the spot he'd just ravished, then moved his head to my other thigh... and did it again.

And again.

"God, that feels good," I whispered, and I swear to God, he groaned against my leg. His hands moved up to my knees and slid along the smooth skin of my thighs, caressing them and massaging them, savouring me as he used his tongue to map little trails from each spot he sucked on.

After a while, he focused his attention back on my pussy, though his mouth was still over my panties. His left hand moved from my thigh to my hip, then slipped further up and beneath my shirt so he could grip my breast. I moaned softly as he teased my slit with his tongue, tasting my juices as they seeped through the cotton, giving me not quite enough friction to relieve the ache that was starting in my core.

"Rob," I finally said.

He glanced up.

"Please."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Please what?" he asked, and I felt the words as he spoke them against my mound.

I bit my lip. "Please eat my pussy."

"Hmm," he said, and I whimpered as the sound vibrated against me. "That still didn't sound like begging, baby girl."

"I can beg harder."

His eyes darkened. "Do you remember what I said about faking it?"

"That was about orgasms."

He glared at me. "It counts here, too."

I licked my lips, then bit the bottom one again. "Well... then... will you at least take my panties off?"

For some reason, that seemed to surprise him. Then, he smirked again. "Are you trying to trick me into eating your pussy, baby girl?"

I shook my head. "It just... I want to feel you on my skin. Please? I'll take my shirt off too. I know you want me to."

He studied me for a moment, then pressed a quick kiss to the top of my mound before nodding once.

"Improvise and adapt," he muttered to himself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He pulled back, peppering kisses along my thigh all the way down to my knee. "Take your shirt off, baby girl. Let me see your tits."

I lifted it obediently, wasting no time as I pulled it over my head and let it fall to the floor beside him. Rob looked up, his eyes hooded as he drank in my body, and that look alone was enough to make my pussy ache all over again. I mean, I couldn't imagine anyone not feeling like an absolute goddess when someone like him was looking at them like that.

I let him look for a few long moments before squirming in place on the couch.

"Baby?" I asked. "Please, will you take my panties off?"

"Mmm," he said, a low grunt that seemed to mean yes, since he brought his hands to my hips and began to peel my cotton panties down my legs.

"God damn, Halle," he said once he'd removed them completely and tossed them to the side. "Every moment you're not naked is a fucking tragedy."

A flattered warmth ran through me, but it didn't last long. That was only because it was replaced with the warmth of arousal he leaned forward, burying his head between my legs again, and licked a path from the bottom of my pussy all the way up to just before my clit... and stopped.

"No," I whined.

He put both hands on my thighs and squeezed hard. "You said you weren't trying to trick me into eating your pussy."

"I'm not," I said, but I couldn't help pushing my hips forward. "But that doesn't mean I wanted you to stop."

He glanced up at me, amusement on his face.

"So you like it, baby girl?" he asked. "You like it when I do this?"

And he repeated the same action, dragging his tongue along my slit—not between it, just overtop of it—and getting just close enough to my clit that I tensed, then whimpered as he took his tongue away again.

"I asked you if you liked it," he said.

"Yes," I said quickly. "Yes, I like it."

"Do you like this?" he asked, his voice husky as he lowered his mouth again, then repeated the not-biting action on one of my lips.

And I did. I liked it.

I nodded and he repeated the action, then moved to the other side and did it there. After that, he repeated the not-quite-between-my-folds tongue lick.

Only this time, he licked my clit.

My hips jerked forward, but his mouth was gone before it touched him.

"No," I gasped. "Rob, please."

He held my gaze as he brought his mouth back to my pussy, sticking his tongue and slowly—horribly slowly, painfully slowly—dragged it along my slit, closer and closer to my clit, until—