The Art Of Fellatio And Nine Others

An excerpt from the title feature:

I stood between his knees, and knelt down slowly, taking my place at his feet. He held my gaze. I couldn’t read his expression. It could have been encouraging, disbelieving, anything. I reached, with my hands noticeably shaking, to his belt buckle. I eased the leather through the buckle, then undid the button below that, then the buttons of the fly. Underneath, his cock strained against the tight fabric of his boxer briefs. His powerful, intoxicating scent rose from his skin. I grabbed the waistband and rolled it down. His cock sprang free, bouncing a little from the tension it had been under. His cock was covered with skin more soft and smooth than that of my breast. I grasped him with both hands, easing back the skin protecting the exquisitely sensitive head. It gleamed, ripe and full with blood, a tear like drop coming from the slit at its tip.