Chapter 10 — What She Gave
The room was colder than she remembered.
Celeste stepped in without speaking, the grey pillow on the floor catching her eye first.
The same soft lighting, the same quiet hum of the air-con, the faint scent of detergent and something male — body wash and heat and something else she couldn’t name.
Her heart was hammering against her chest, but her face gave nothing away.
She set her bag down. Quietly unzipped it. Took out a small towel, a toothbrush, her face wash. Placed them neatly on the edge of the shelf like she needed something—anything—to anchor her.
Her fingers reached for the elastic band on her wrist, and without a word, she gathered her hair up into a loose, high ponytail. One smooth motion. One final breath.
She turned.
Zach was already watching her.
Neither of them smiled.
She walked over to the pillow and knelt, adjusting slightly to keep her skirt from bunching under her. The cotton of her hoodie was warm against her arms, but goosebumps still climbed her skin.
She looked up once, just to meet his eyes.
Then down.
He stepped closer, undressed with the same casualness he always carried, shorts dropping past his knees. And then it was there — real, aroused, waiting for her.
It made her chest tighten.
She’d never seen one up close. Not like this.
Not hard. Not for her.
It felt too much — too exposed, too alive. There was heat in it, twitching slightly under her gaze, skin flushed with blood. It wasn’t smooth or pretty. It was raw. And now it was inches from her face.
She hesitated.
Then moved forward.
Her fingers wrapped around him gently — testing, unsure — and even that small contact made him exhale. A deep, restrained sound. His skin was hot, pulsing against her palm.
She felt the weight of it. The warmth. The unspoken pressure.
Her lips parted slowly, her breath brushing across him as she leaned in. She breathed through her nose, eyes half-lidded, hands trembling as she opened her mouth for the first time.
And then — contact.
Her lips pressed against the tip, soft and unsure.
He let out a low groan, the kind that wasn’t faked. She felt his hand rest lightly on the back of her head — not pushing, just guiding, just claiming her in that silent way.
She took him in further.
Her mouth was warm — she could feel it, how he responded to every inch she accepted. Her tongue tried to follow the curve, swirling gently, unsure if she was doing it right. She had no map for this. No experience. Just instinct, and the slow realization of how much he was feeling.
Zach’s jaw clenched above her.
It was everything at once — the heat of her breath, the slick tightness of her lips, the way she moaned softly through her nose when she adjusted, not even realizing she made a sound.
He was barely holding back.
He didn’t speak much — just murmured once, voice low.
“Just like that…”
She couldn’t answer. Her mouth was full now — her cheeks hollowing slightly as she pulled back, then slid forward again.
Her jaw ached.
Her eyes watered when she took him deeper than expected.
Her mind raced.
Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?
Am I doing it wrong?
Why does it taste like this — salt, skin, something metallic—
He’s breathing so heavy.
Is that good?
She flicked her tongue under the shaft, felt the veins twitch. A mix of saliva and heat slicked her lips. She lost her rhythm once, then found it again. One hand gripped the base now, the other rested lightly on his thigh, grounding herself.
He looked down, chest heaving.
Her mouth was small, and he could feel it.
Tight, wet, unsure. It made every second feel magnified.
“F... fuck...” he muttered. “Your mouth is... perfect.”
She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to.
She could feel what he meant — in how his legs tensed, how his hand curled into her ponytail now, gently tugging but not pulling. Not yet.
Her tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side, the way she'd read about but never thought she'd do. His breath caught when she did that. That sound — low and sharp — felt like a reward.
She worked him with growing rhythm now. Her jaw hurt, but she didn’t stop. Not yet.
Then she felt it — the tightening, the way his hips began to twitch forward, involuntary, like his body couldn’t help it.
And his voice — rougher now, strained — gave her only three words:
“I’m gonna cum.”
She pulled back just enough.
And in that moment — heat. Sudden, thick, warm.
The first spurt hit her right above the nose, trailing up toward her forehead. The second splashed across her cheek, dripping down. The next landed squarely on her lips, coating them, before sliding off her chin.
He groaned — hard — head tilted back, body shuddering.
Another burst. And another.
She blinked through it, lips slightly parted, face marked and sticky, cum streaking her in messy, uneven lines. Warmth pooled along her jawline, gliding slowly toward her throat.
She stayed still.
Letting it happen. Letting it finish.
Zach looked down, chest rising, utterly spent.
And there she was — kneeling, breathing softly through her nose, his cum glistening across her innocent face.
She didn’t move.
Not yet.
To be continued ...