Chapter 47: Handjob

The apartment was quiet except for Amanda’s own heartbeat, which was hammering against her ears.

She finally realized she had once again accidentally teased Arthur. Even after she told him this was wrong, and that she would be careful...

And still, she couldn’t stop looking at the visible tent in his clothes. It was so big, seemingly straining against his pants.

She wondered if it was painful in some way. She had read more than one novel in which the girl offered to help alleviate the tension after being a tease.

Her pussy clenched as, for one second, her guilt and lust settled on the same answer. She should at least take care of it for him, right?

"Do... do you want me to take care of it?" she asked.

What am I doing? she thought. He’s Anne’s son. He lives under my roof. I’m supposed to be the responsible one. The thought came immediately after, but the words had already left her mouth, and she felt like going back would be even more unfair to him.

Meanwhile, Arthur stood frozen. Part of him wanted to step forward and tell her to suck his cock... actually, probably ask for it gently, as he would not like to be so aggressive with a cute and soft girl like Amanda.

However, another side of him was genuinely worried about what she had told him.

But her words kept snagging on something inside him. Useless mess... Negligent... She was being too harsh with herself, and Arthur wanted to say something.

But what?

The words caught in his throat, and before he could make up his mind, she moved.

She leaned in closer, slow and fluid, like a cat. Her big breasts hung free against her blouse, looking even bigger as they bounced freely.

With perfect grace, she reached for him, and her delicate fingers found the button of his pants, undoing it with a soft, practiced motion. The zipper slid down with a quiet hiss.

"Can I?" she asked, her voice soft. Almost shy. Her eyes lifted to his.

Arthur blinked slowly as every reasonable thought in his mind dissolved the moment her fingertips brushed against him through the fabric of his boxers. His breath caught. His body answered for him, a low, involuntary sound escaping his throat.

And that was all the answer she needed.

Amanda sank slowly to her knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. There was something almost reverent in the way she looked up at him, her lips slightly parted, breath already coming quicker.

Finally, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down. His cock sprang free, so big and imposing.

She had seen big cocks in porn. Plenty of them. But this... this was different. Real. Right in front of her face. Her eyes went wide. She blinked once, twice, as if her vision might be lying to her.

The thing was huge, long, thick, and already fully hard, with heavy veins that pulsed under the smooth, flushed skin. The head was broad and dark, already glistening at the tip. It looked so brutal and forceful, contrasting with Arthur’s friendly demeanor.

Amanda gulped, realizing Arthur had the kind of cock that made a girl’s stomach flip and her thighs press together without thinking.

The woman’s long fingers trembled as she reached out and wrapped them around the base. She could barely close her hand around it. The heat of him sank into her palm immediately, and the heavy, masculine scent of him flooded her nose.

Her mind gave one last, weak warning: Anne would lose her mind if she knew. Besides, Arthur could have anyone he wanted; he really shouldn’t be wasting his time with her.

But the warning dissolved the second she felt his dick eagerly throb, as if urging her to continue serving him. And she simply couldn’t disobey it.

Her mouth watered. Literally. Saliva pooled under her tongue as she stared, pupils blown wide. Her nipples tightened into hard, aching points against the thin fabric of her top, almost painfully sensitive. Heat flooded between her legs, making a humiliating puddle beneath her. Whatever control she’d still been clinging to slipped away completely.

She leaned in closer, breath ghosting over the thick head, lips parting as if on instinct. Her tongue flicked out almost without permission, tasting the bead of precum that had gathered there. The salty, masculine flavor made her thighs clench hard.

Amanda looked up at him again, eyes glassy with want, and whispered, almost dazed, "Holy fuck... you have a nice cock." The words left her involuntarily.

Both of them blushed; the dirty talk felt alien to the way the two normally interacted. Amanda especially felt ashamed that her pure lady persona was being shattered.

But this was the real Amanda, so endlessly horny she would do something like that...

"This really needs to be the first and last time. Okay?" she said, as the shame brought some of her self-control back.

And finally, she began stroking him in uneven motions, savoring the way her fingers parted slightly as she moved down the thick length.

His size was no joke, just what she expected from her barbarian... Her breath quickened as her eyes locked on him, dark with naked desire. The hunger in her gaze made his cock throb hard.

Still, her mind drifted, fertile imagination claiming her. The world shifted. She was on her knees before the barbarian king, helpless, with no choice but to offer her body in apology for being so useless.

She fantasized about how, at least this time, she would be of use to him, her body a living tribute, given so he might show mercy to the village that was her family.

She began working with hunger, moving her hand up and down his full shaft. Then she remembered a scene from the novel, her pussy clenching.

She measured his delicious cock with her eyes for a single second and decided he was big enough.

Then she wrapped her second hand around his shaft, moving both of them hard.

Arthur stared down at her, breath ragged, every muscle locked.

Amanda’s flushed face tilted up toward him, eyes half-lidded and glassy, lips parted as she worked both hands up and down his aching cock in firm, hungry strokes.

Her heavy breasts swayed and jiggled with every movement, soft flesh bouncing freely against the open front of her blouse. The wet sound of her fists gliding over his slick shaft filled the quiet apartment.

The sight of her, on her knees, looking up at him like that, ripped the last of his restraint away. All the pent-up desire, the months without Iris, and his desire for Amanda all crashed together at once.

His hips jerked. A low, broken groan tore from his throat.

Thick ropes of cum erupted from him in spurts, painting her face in long white streaks. Pulse after pulse of the massive load splattered across her cheeks, her forehead, her open lips, dripping down her chin as he kept coming, emptying every last drop on her.