Her First Time, Their Power Game novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: On Her Knees in Caluire

Léon teaches her her first blowjob in his kitchen, severe and warm; he warns her that Auguste is not kind.

Léon's house in Caluire had a garden wall, a green gate and a kitchen big enough to feed forty people.

He opened the gate himself on Sunday evening in an apron, with a wooden spoon in his hand.

"You walked here?" he said.

"Forty minutes."

"You're sore."

"Yes," I said, and I felt myself blush from my collar to my hair. "It feels good."

He looked at me for a second without smiling.

"Come in. Shoes off. Hands washed."

His kitchen smelled of butter and thyme.

A pot simmered on the stove, and a bottle of white wine sat open on the table with two glasses.

I washed my hands at the sink while he watched me from the doorway.

I had worked for Léon for three months, and in all that time he had never made me feel small.

Tonight he made me feel small, and I liked it so much that my knees were weak.

"Dominique called me last night," he said. "He said you were everything you wrote."

"Did he tell you what I want from you?"

"Page five."

"Say it."

He turned off the burner and wiped his hands on a towel, taking his time.

"You want to learn to suck cock," he said, "and you want to be taught by a man who will be strict about it."

My face burned.

"Yes."

"On your knees, then."

I dropped to the tiles in front of him.

They were cold through my skirt.

He stood above me, enormous, with the light behind his head.

"Hands behind your back."

I clasped them.

"You'll keep them there unless I say otherwise. You'll do what I tell you, exactly as I tell you, and I will correct you every time you're wrong. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Léon."

"Yes, what?"

I hadn't asked myself what I would call him.

"Yes, sir," I said.

Something moved in his face.

"Good."

He unbuttoned his trousers with slow, steady fingers and pushed them down along with his underwear.

His cock was already half hard, thick and heavy, and it lay against his thigh.

My mouth went dry.

"Look at it," he said. "Take as long as you need."

I looked.

I looked at the veins and the swollen head and the dark hair at the base.

My pussy was so wet that I could feel it on my thighs.

"Now open."

I opened my mouth.

"Wider."

I opened wider.

He put the tip of his cock against my lower lip and held it there.

"Lick," he said. "Just the head."

I put out my tongue.

He tasted salty and warm, and a little bitter.

I licked in a circle, as slowly as I could, and above me he let out a long breath through his nose.

"Good. Again. Now take it in your mouth. Lips over your teeth."

I closed my lips around the head and slid my mouth down an inch.

My eyes watered.

"Slower," he said, and his hand came down into my hair and held me still. "No hurry. I want to feel everything you do."

I went slower.

I learned how to hold my tongue flat against the underside and how to suck gently on the way back up.

I learned that if I hollowed my cheeks he made a low sound in his chest.

"Good girl," he said. "Do that again."

I did it again.

His hand tightened in my hair, and he pushed me down a little farther.

I gagged.

He pulled me back immediately, and drool ran down my chin.

"Breathe through your nose. Look up at me."

I looked up, and tears were running down my cheeks.

He wiped one with his thumb, almost gently.

"That's the best thing you've done all night," he said. "That's a girl doing it properly. Again."

I took him in again.

He pushed deeper this time.

I fought not to gag and I swallowed around him, and his whole body shuddered.

"There," he said. "Stay there."

I stayed with my nose pressed to his stomach, his cock heavy against the back of my throat, and I didn't breathe.

He counted slowly under his breath.

At five he let me go.

I came up gasping, spit hanging from my lip, and I wanted to do it again immediately.

"Please," I said. "Again."

"Say what you want."

"I want your cock in my mouth, sir. I want you to teach me."

"Then ask me properly. Ask me to use your mouth."

My voice shook.

"Please use my mouth, sir."

He did.

He took my head in both his hands and fucked my mouth with long, firm strokes, deep enough to make me choke and slow enough to let me recover.

Each time I gagged he stopped and let me breathe, and each time I took him again.

My jaw ached.

My nipples were so hard they hurt against my shirt.

Without my hands I couldn't touch myself, and the need between my legs was worse than anything I had felt before.

"You're squirming," he said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're doing exactly what I want."

His breath was coming harder now.

"I'm going to come in your mouth," he said. "You'll swallow everything. Do you want that?"

I looked up at him with my lips stretched around him and nodded as hard as I could.

"Good."

He pushed deep one last time and held my head there.

His cock jerked, and hot salty fluid filled my mouth in thick pulses.

I swallowed.

I swallowed again, and again, and my throat worked around him until there was nothing left.

He pulled out slowly.

I licked my lips, and I did not look away from him.

He stared down at me with his chest heaving.

Then he knelt on the tiles in front of me, took my face in both hands, and kissed me, tasting himself on my tongue.

"You are astonishing," he said against my mouth.

"I want to do it again."

"Later." He laughed, and it was a warm, low laugh that I felt in my stomach. "Come and eat. I made a stew."

He lifted me to my feet and wrapped his big arms around me from behind.

I leaned against his chest, shaking, my thighs slick, my mouth sore.

His beard scraped my temple.

"Tomorrow is Auguste," he said quietly.

"I know. It's on my list."

"Elise." His arms tightened. "Auguste isn't kind."

"I didn't ask him to be."

"I know," Léon said. "That's what worries me."

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