Once Myles was gone, the exhaustion of the previous week caught up with me. After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up, I went straight back to bed and slept soundly for the rest of the night. In the morning, I woke only long enough to call my parents. They always wanted me to attend church with them on Sundays, but on the phone that day, I claimed I was feeling under the weather and wouldn't be able to go.

"Are you okay, Colleen?" my mother asked. "You're never sick. We can stop by to check on you on the way home."

"No, don't worry about me," I rushed to reply. In that uncanny way most mothers had, my own could normally take one look at my face and know I was lying about something. She'd be able to see right through my fib that I was ill. "It feels like I have a touch of the flu, but I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow."

After telling Mom goodbye, I hung up the phone and promptly went back to sleep, not waking again till noon. I made myself a sandwich for lunch, and in between bites, I couldn't help but stroll over to the front window. Across the street, Myles's car was gone from his driveway. We'd been neighbors long enough for me to realize that he and his wife weren't regular churchgoers, but they were often out and about on weekends.

I spent the rest of the afternoon tidying up the house. It needed only a light cleaning, but I was determined to keep myself busy. A blush spread across my face when I stripped the bed of its dirty sheets. The sight of my nightshirt, with its traces of Myles's semen, made me grow even hotter.

Later that day, I let myself peek out at Myles's house again. His car was still gone. I didn't have time to dwell on my subtle but undeniable disappointment at his absence, for my best friend, Melanie, called me after dinner. We chatted about the upcoming workweek, and about a guy she'd begun dating. I didn't dare breathe a word about what I'd done with Myles the night before. While I knew I could trust Melanie to keep my secret, I also knew she'd strongly disapprove.

I spent the rest of the evening in the same way countless other single women did: I took a long, hot bath and washed my hair, and I picked out my outfit for work the next day. Then, I sat down on the couch to watch the Sunday night movie. But I figured I was one of only a few women who were anticipating a married lover's call.

Did I really expect Myles to call that night? No. Did I secretly hope he would? Absolutely. Instead of focusing on the television screen, I kept replaying memories from last night's lovemaking in my mind. By the time the eleven o'clock news began, I was sopping wet between my thighs.

In my bedroom, I slipped between clean sheets and tried not to stare at the alarm clock. He's not going to call, you idiot, I told myself. But I couldn't surrender to sleep.

The phone rang at half past eleven.

My pulse raced from the sudden noise, and from my excitement. Scrambling to answer the call, I offered a tentative hello in greeting.

It wasn't heavy breathing that I heard this time, but Myles's low voice. "Are you all caught up on your sleep?"

"Yes." I knew he could hear my grin, and I also knew that wasn't a good thing.

"I'm glad you're well rested," he murmured, "because, in just a few minutes, I'll be climbing through your bedroom window. I want your panties off and your legs spread. I can't wait to bury my face between your thighs."

Click.

I stared stupidly at the phone in my hand for several moments. Then, I sprang into action. After turning on the bedside lamp, I rushed to unlock and open the window. My gaze drifted toward the house next to mine. The man who lived there was an elderly widower whose lights went out well before ten on most nights, so I doubted he'd ever notice Myles sneaking over to my place.

My soft, comfortable nightshirt wouldn't do tonight. Frantically pulling it over my head, I tossed it aside and took a seafoam green chemise from my dresser drawer. The chiffon fabric was so sheer that it was practically see-through. Following Myles's orders, I didn't bother to put on the matching panties.

With a trembling hand, I ran a brush through my hair. The clean strands gleamed in the lamplight. Once I'd applied some lip gloss and a bit of blush, I returned to bed. Lying on my back, I took a deep, steadying breath and then spread my legs wide. The chemise was mid-thigh length, but the more I opened my legs, the higher it rose. I had to resist the urge to cover myself, for I felt like I was putting on a lewd display. But wasn't that what Myles wanted?

Turning my face toward the window, I smiled at the sight of him standing just outside. He flashed a grin in return but didn't speak until he was in my room. "Hey, sexy." His hot stare moved over my body. "My, my, you look good enough to eat."

I realized applying blush for this man wasn't necessary, because he always made my cheeks redden with his filthy words. Again, he was quick to strip naked, and just like before, he was already hard for me. His approach was slow and measured, which only intensified my need. My breathing grew faster when he climbed onto the bed. With a hand planted on either side of me, he lowered his head and gave me one of those passionate, hungry kisses I loved.

"You're so beautiful, Colleen." While kneeling between my legs, Myles toyed with my nipples, and they instantly hardened beneath his touch. Again, he leaned forward to kiss my breasts; I could easily feel the warmth of his mouth through my lingerie. Weaving my fingers through his hair, I released soft moans that made his suckling grow even more fervent.

When his lips moved lower, traveling down my belly, I tried not to tense up. Finally, he lifted the chemise above my hips. I felt incredibly exposed, which, of course, I was, with the lamp providing plenty of illumination. Myles had seen me naked the night before, but his face hadn't been just inches from my sex.

His gentle fingers spread my outer labia farther apart. I knew that the hair covering them was wet from my juices. Myles drew nearer, and I watched in astonishment as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he fulfilled the promise he'd made on the phone: with a shocking eagerness, he buried his face between my thighs.

The feel of his tongue gliding over my skin made me cry out. Helplessly, I stared at the ceiling while urging myself to relax. I hadn't yet succeeded in doing so when Myles lifted his head and whispered, "What's wrong?" Of course, he'd detected my anxiety. Though I forced myself to meet his stare, I couldn't speak. How could I explain that I heard a harsh, judgmental voice in my head telling me, Good girls don't do filthy things like this. Good girls don't let men kiss them there.

"You're only the third man I've slept with," I finally confessed. "The others weren't as... adventurous in bed."

"They never went down on you?" he asked in a quiet voice. I searched his face for a hint of mocking and found none.

"One did," I revealed, "but he complained about me being so wet." Now, my face was hot with shame instead of arousal.

To my surprise, Myles actually snickered. "That idiot preferred a dry pussy? Not me. I want you dripping."

"Don't be disgusting!" I tried to pull away, but Myles grasped my hips and held me in place.

"Colleen, look at me," he demanded. When I obeyed, he said in a far gentler tone, "There's absolutely nothing disgusting about this." Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he slid his tongue from my entrance to my clit. The sensation sent an uncontrollable shudder of lust through me. Grinning at my response, he murmured, "I've been dying to do this all day."

Myles took his time tasting and exploring, and I couldn't suppress a moan when he drew my fleshy inner folds between his lips to gently suckle them. All the while, he gave my clit only tantalizing caresses. Soon, I was writhing from sheer need. His low laughter made it clear how much he delighted in teasing me.

My moans grew louder as he massaged my tender, swollen bud with a fingertip. Finally, I lost all self-restraint and grabbed his hair. "Stop tormenting me and lick my clit!"

Myles readily followed my command. The moment I felt that exquisite stimulation from his talented tongue, I fell back against the bed and surrendered to it. How had I reached the age of twenty-five without experiencing such pleasure? I wondered. It was so powerful that I felt slightly dazed. How much longer would I have gone without this if I hadn't invited Myles into my bed?

My hips began an instinctual rocking, and I made no attempt to stop them. When Myles slid two fingers inside me, my guttural cries were loud enough to be heard beyond the open window. "I'm getting close!" I said in a quavering voice. By this point, I was so aroused that I'd broken into a sweat. He continued licking and sucking my clit, relentlessly driving me toward climax.

Again, I lifted my head to gaze down at him. Above all else, it was the blatant passion I saw in his eyes that made me succumb to a fierce wave of orgasmic contractions. Cupping a hand over my mouth to muffle a scream, I shook and quaked as if an electric current was surging through me. Somehow, Myles kept his mouth firmly against my pussy, only stopping when I pleaded for mercy.

Yet he wasn't finished. As I lay against the bed, waiting for my breathing to slow, he planted kisses on my inner thighs. Then, he returned his attention to my pussy. My eyes widened at the feel of his tongue sweeping across my entrance. "What are you doing?"

Myles responded by guiding my legs upward and farther apart, as if he wanted me positioned almost in a split. A startled cry escaped my lips when he worked the tip of his tongue inside my cunt. Though I was too ashamed to watch him penetrating me in such a filthy, intimate way, I couldn't deny the pleasure I derived from the act. Rather than try to stop him from working his tongue deeper inside me, I held myself wide open so he would have an easier time of it.

When my thighs began trembling, Myles flicked his tongue against my clit with a pressure that made me shriek. I was still so sensitive that he coaxed forth my second orgasm in less than a minute. "Ah, fuck!" I wailed, struggling in his grasp. Once he released his hold on me and lifted his head, I figured he would quickly move to fuck me. Instead, he lay at my side and drew me into his arms. I stared up at him, still astonished by what he'd done.

"Taste yourself," he murmured before lowering his lips to mine. When our tongues met, I was easily able to taste my pussy in the kiss. It made my face burn with that familiar combination of shame and lust. Finally, I broke our kiss to catch my breath, and my gaze settled on Myles's cock. It had softened a little while he'd made my pleasure his sole focus. Wrapping my fingers around his shaft, I stroked him back to full hardness.

"Ah, that's so nice!" he sighed. His lips were gentle on my hair. "Have you ever taken a man in your mouth?"

Though I should have been expecting it, his question made me freeze. Several excruciating seconds passed before I managed to say, "Once."

"Did you like it?"

I couldn't meet Myles's eyes as I spoke. "Not really. He forced my head down until I was choking on his cock."

"You know I wouldn't do that, Colleen." He turned over on his back and began languidly masturbating. "But I have to admit, I'd love to feel your lips wrapped around my dick. It's been ages for me."

As I sat up, I couldn't stop watching his hand moving along the length of his shaft. "Dana doesn't do that?"

"Only rarely. She'll do it for my birthday, or if I get a promotion at the office." Myles's words were thick with disdain. "She doesn't enjoy it, though. She says it's dirty and degrading to women."

Now, my eyes met his, and I dared to ask, "If I do it, would you consider me dirty?"

"No! And let's look at it from another perspective, shall we?" Myles lifted an eyebrow, his stare holding a challenge. "Do you think I'm dirty because I ate your pussy?"

I scoffed at the question. "You know it's different for men."

"How so?" he demanded.

"Men get a slap on the back for sleeping around, while women get called sluts."

"But it's just you and me in this room, Colleen," he said. "No one else is here to judge us. And if you can get past all of the moralistic bullshit that's been so deeply ingrained into you as a woman, you'll be able to enjoy yourself in ways you never dreamed possible."

He looked so earnest in that moment that I had to giggle. "You sound like a feminist, Myles."

That familiar grin returned to his lips. Pressing a hand to his chest, he said, "I'll have you know, I've always been a steadfast supporter of the Equal Rights Amendment." Before I could come up with a smartass reply, he pointedly looked down at his erection, then back at me. "You want to make me feel good, don't you, baby?"

Swallowing hard, I nodded.

"Then give it a kiss," he coaxed.

I decided to show him that he wasn't the only one who could tease. Leaning forward, I planted a chaste peck on the head of his cock. "How's that?" I asked with a grin.

Myles took it all in good humor, flashing his own smile. "That's an excellent start, but how about using some tongue as well?"

I thought back to a silly conversation I'd had with Melanie a couple of months ago, when we'd been tipsy from sharing a bottle of wine. Though Melanie never had one-night stands, she didn't make a guy wait long for sex once they started dating. My own sex life was utterly dull in comparison, so I enjoyed hearing about her experiences. Still, I almost spat out my wine as she vividly described giving a blowjob. "I just go for that tip like it's a big lollipop," she said. "I have fun sucking and licking it all over."

I felt ridiculous trying to follow that technique now, but my lack of experience left me with few other options. Once I settled between Myles's spread legs, I gently grasped the base of his cock, then started swirling my tongue around the tip. The sound of his quickened breathing encouraged me to eagerly suck his glans. Like Melanie, I figured I'd try to have some fun while giving head.

My method was clearly working, for Myles let out a pleasured groan. "Oh yes, you're making me feel so good! Mmm, keep doing that with your tongue!"

I tasted the salt of his skin while breathing in his scent. When our stares met, I made no attempt to hide my desire to please him. His own eyes were heavy-lidded with arousal, but despite his excitement, he didn't push me to do more. He touched my head only to brush my hair back from my face.

It was my decision to take him deeper. My lips inched farther down his shaft until they met my stroking hand. Drawing in a sharp breath, Myles let it out as a groan. "Colleen, you've got me so fucking hard!"

He wasn't lying about that, for I felt his dick swell in my mouth. Following his murmured instructions, I cupped his balls. By this point, my jaw was aching a little, so I decided to give it a break and turn my attention to his hairy sac. The sounds he made as I licked his warm skin left no doubt that I was driving him wild. I found I loved sweeping my tongue upward, over his balls and along the underside of his shaft before reaching his tip again.

Using that low, persuasive voice I couldn't deny, Myles asked me to massage his perineum. I was amazed at the effect my touch had on him. As his moans grew almost constant, his hands grasped at the bottom sheet, trying to gather up fistfuls of the fabric. He was now producing ample precum, and I gathered it up on my tongue. It was salty but mild, and I could have sworn I detected a hint of sweetness in the fluid.

Moments later, I returned to sucking his cock with everything I had. My moans joined his as I stroked the part of his shaft my mouth couldn't reach.

"I'm almost there!" he said in a strained voice. I felt him tense in anticipation of his climax. Immediately, I tried to lift my head, but for the first time, Myles used a firm hand to prevent me from doing so. "Don't stop, baby!" His words were full of pleading. "Make me come with that incredible mouth of yours!"

I didn't struggle, for he wasn't forcing me to take more of his cock than I could easily accept. It felt both filthy and wildly arousing to work myself into a frenzy for his cum. As my head bobbed up and down, his fingers tightened in my hair.

I heard his gasp just before he came hard in my mouth. Spurts of semen landed on my tongue and in the back of my throat almost faster than I could swallow them. The taste was vaguely reminiscent of bleach, but I discovered I wasn't put off by it.

By the time Myles was finished, rivulets of my saliva, combined with his seed, trickled from my lips and down his shaft. Finally, he released me. While I sat up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, I found myself surprised that I'd enjoyed doing that. Most of all, I loved the look of visceral satisfaction on Myles's face.

"Come here," he said, drawing me to him. I sensed his gratitude in the fervent kiss he gave me. "Thank you so much for that."

"I liked getting you so excited," I told him. "And I promise to do it more often than your birthday."

Myles laughed and hugged me tighter. Resting a hand on his chest, I toyed with the dark hair covering his skin. We were drowsy and relaxed, both of us reluctant to move. Eventually, he whispered, "I wish I could stay."

"Me, too," I whispered back.

Of course, he had to leave, and I tried not to stare at him longingly while he got dressed. Before climbing through my window, he gave me an affectionate smile. "I probably won't make it back over here till the weekend."

"I understand," I said, keeping my tone light.

Myles appeared almost sheepish as he asked, "Do you mind if I call you in the meantime? To say good night?"

I knew I looked absurdly happy upon hearing that question, but I couldn't hide how thrilled I was. "I'd like that, Myles."

His smile widened, revealing his own happiness. "Sleep well, baby," he told me, "because I'll soon be keeping you up past your bedtime again."