When Mason first brought this idea up, there were certain things that I fully expected from it. Mostly the choking and the gagging. After all, I think that's probably what most people expect when they think of something like this. One thing I wasn't prepared for, however, was just how messy it could be.

Maybe it was my body's way of protecting my throat from damage, or maybe he just kept pressing the right spots on his way down, but I couldn't hold back my saliva if I wanted to. Every little gag or cough, sent pools of it pouring from my lips and dripping down onto my neck and breasts. And that wasn't even including the tears.

He wasn't doing anything to hurt me. Or, at the very least, wasn't doing anything that hurt more than what I figured something like this would. However, all the repeated, involuntary gagging did, naturally, bring tears to my eyes which welled up and spilled over every so often.

As we talked about, Mason did start pulling out more often to make sure I could get enough air. However, I wouldn't exactly say that made things any "easier." The sudden rush of air always made me cough and sent even more saliva running down my chin. And even once the coughing stopped, it seemed like I'd just barely sucked in enough oxygen before he was suddenly down my throat again, leaving my poor lungs barely satisfied and begging for more.

I felt filthy. I felt lewd. I felt used. And yet, somehow, I didn't find myself hating it.

Much to my surprise, I was actually kind of enjoying the whole experience. Not in the traditional sense of having a guy ram himself down my throat had me soaking my panties, but more like I was enjoying how much he was enjoying it.

Unlike earlier where I think he was still uncertain of just how far he could take things, Mason seemed to be enjoying himself a lot more now that we had some baseline for what I could and couldn't handle. I think it was the security of knowing just how far he could push things without taking them too far. And that really helped him to let loose and enjoy himself.

The haze he'd had in his eyes before was a full-on fog now. His breathing was labored and ragged with excitement. His free hand was gripping the counter so tightly that his knuckles were bright white.

The tension in his muscles as he balanced precariously on the edge of pleasure, the focus and intensity in his eyes, his taste filling up my mouth and throat as his excitement spilled from his rock-hard member. These were the things that excited me. The things that left me aching and longing to have him ramming himself between my legs instead.

"Oh, fuck," he hissed between his teeth.

Again, he pulled himself out of my throat in a way that left me coughing and sputtering for air. However, air wasn't the only thing that greeted me this time.

A deep, pleasure-filled grunt rumbled in his throat as hot lust suddenly shot out from his pulsing member and covered my face. Again, and again, and again. A shiver ran across my skin as I felt it dripping down my cheeks and lips, a few droplets landing on my bare thighs.

I could only imagine the absolute wreck I must have looked like right now. Disheveled hair, reddened eyes, and cheeks stained with tears. My face smeared with a sticky mess of saliva and his juices. My chest heaving with effort as my lungs clawed desperately for all the air they'd been denied up to this point.

But that wouldn't stop Mason. Undeterred and without even the slightest hint of hesitation, he dropped down onto his knees and pulled me into a passionate kiss.

Despite the butterflies that threatened to burst through my chest at any moment, my brain refused to just disregard the state I was in right now. I pulled away from him almost immediately, pressing my hands against his chest to keep him back. I lowered my eyes to the floor, my face hot with embarrassment.

"Stop, I'm disgusting," I muttered awkwardly.

Without a word, he raised his hand to touch my cheek. With the slightest of pressure, he gently guided me to look at him again. A soft smile filled his face. His eyes held a warmth so tender I could practically feel it seeping into my soul.

"You're perfect," he murmured, pulling me to him again.

And that was all it took. With just those two little words, my willpower crumbled into dust and vanished without a trace. With just those little two words, the butterflies returned and drowned out every other thought with their fluttering wings. With just those two little words, I surrendered myself to him entirely. Because, in all my life, I don't think anybody had ever made me feel more beautiful, more wanted, or more "perfect" than Mason did at that moment.

Despite my urgency to push him away just seconds ago, it still felt like our embrace ended too soon. As his lips separated from mine, I again felt that strange longing to have him return back to me that I did earlier in the evening.

As his eyes traveled up and down my body, I didn't see any hint of regret or disgust. However, a sheepish smile did tug at his lips.

"Okay... maybe we do need to get you cleaned up." He paused, glancing down at the sticky mess between his legs. "Both of us, actually."

"Huh, why? Do I have something on my face?" I asked, playing dumb.

He smirked at me. "Yeah. A little bit. Here, let me take care of that for you."

The bathtub was just across the room. Not even a few steps away. Yet, in true Mason fashion, he still deemed it worthy of his time to scoop me up into his arms and carry me there instead. I let out a small sigh, not even bothering to resist.

The slight way the corner of his lip twitched upward told me that he'd heard me just fine. However, it seemed like he'd decided to ignore me and my huffing for the time being. He leaned down and rested me on the edge of the tub gently, reaching his hand into the water as he did to check the temperature.

"I made the water a little hot earlier so it wouldn't be too cold when we finally got around to it," he explained. "It feels okay to me, but let me know if you think it's too hot or too cold."

Again, I couldn't help but be touched by how much thought and consideration he put into all of this. However, I decided it might be best to keep that little tidbit to myself this time. I wanted us to enjoy this bath together, and I didn't want his mind to wander off to Phil and "the way he didn't treat me" again.

Tentatively, I dipped my toes in the water. It was hot for sure, but not skin-burning hot. A good kind of hot. The kind where you could just sink into it and let yourself melt. So, that's exactly what I did.

I swung my legs over the sides and slowly lowered myself into the steamy waters. Instantly, I could feel my muscles loosen up and my body start to relax. A content sigh left my lips.

"Now that's the kind of sigh I want to hear you making," Mason teased, lowering himself into the tub with me.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you mind, I'm trying to have a relaxing bath."

"Speaking of 'bathing,' let me help you with that actually," he murmured.

He reached behind himself and grabbed something I couldn't quite see. He dipped it in the water before turning towards me and raising it to my face.

I knew what it was the second it touched my cheek. A washcloth. One of the plain, off-white standard ones you'd expect to find in a hotel bathroom. As he gently brushed it against my skin, my body pulled away on instinct. Shame burned my cheeks.

"I-I'll take care of that," I muttered, averting my eyes and holding out my hand for it.

"Nope," he said simply, nudging my hand away so he could wipe my face again. "You did plenty already. Besides, this is my mess, technically speaking. The least I can do is help you clean it up."

"You—"

"Let me rephrase," he cut me off. "I'm doing this. So, just give up now and accept it."

I gave a defeated sigh but didn't argue with him. After all, I knew Mason. If he really wanted to do this, then nothing I said was going to convince him otherwise. Plus, it's not exactly like it was bad that he wanted to do this for me. Just... awkward.

I kept my eyes glued to the steaming water below us as the semi-rough cloth brushed gently across my face and chest again and again. In my heart, I knew what he was doing was both a thoughtful and kind gesture, but I still couldn't help but feel humiliated. And I guess it showed.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed by this," he commented, clearly trying to comfort me. "It's not like it's something I've never seen before."

Though I'm sure he meant it as a gesture of comfort, the statement honestly left me more curious than anything else. Which did, in fact, help to distract me from the embarrassing situation I currently found myself. So, I decided to lean into it.

"Is this... something you've seen often or...?"

"No," he admitted. "I could probably count it on one hand, if I'm being honest."

"You mentioned before that some of your girlfriends got 'scared off' by it or something, right?"

He let out a small sigh and nodded. "It's... pretty intense. I get that. So, I can't exactly blame them for it. Most flat-out refused if I asked. Hell, a couple even dumped me on the spot for being 'too violent.' A few were willing to try, but never more than once. The couple I could find who were into it weren't exactly 'girlfriends' per se. Just fuckbuddies. Which was fine when I was twenty and just looking to party, but lately...

"I don't know. Somewhere along the line the whole 'sex at ten, out the door by eleven' situation just stopped appealing to me, you know? I wanted something more... serious. And, surprise surprise, finding a woman who kisses you goodbye in the morning and still lets you fuck her face at night is a bit rare to come across."

Despite his more... graphic choice in words, I still couldn't help the way my heart ached for Mason as I heard him say that. Maybe my case wasn't as extreme as his, but I understood the conflict he felt. The idea that you couldn't both have a serious relationship and indulge in all the pleasures you enjoyed before that relationship.

At least, that's what I used to think. But the more time I spent with Mason, the more I realized what a selfish bastard Phil was. That giving up what I enjoyed didn't make me a better partner, it just made him a shitty one for making me think that I ever needed to in the first place. And I didn't want Mason to ever feel like he had to do the same.

"I think you're worrying about it too much," I explained. "I mean, yes, your partner doesn't have to share all of your sexual preferences, but that doesn't mean every serious relationship you have is going to shut them down either. I mean, I wouldn't exactly say doing this was my personal kink, but that doesn't mean I thought it was bad.

"Yes, it's 'intense,' but... well, you made me feel safe. From the very beginning, you made it clear how much you cared about me and my comfort. You made me feel like I could trust you. Like you would take care of me. And you did. Hell, you still are."

I smiled and gestured to my face. He let out a soft chuckle and brushed the cloth across my cheek one more time. His face seemed more relaxed now.

"Thanks, Maggie. I'm glad to hear it."

"You don't need to thank me. It's just the truth," I mumbled awkwardly, looking back at the water again. "So, don't get too caught up on the whole 'will I ever be able to have both' thing. Because you will. You just haven't found the right person yet. That's all.

"And, for what it's worth, I think you're going to be a great husband someday. You're going to make some lucky girl very happy."

Silence quickly filled the air around us. Nervousness plucked at my chest. Why was he so quiet? Was what I said really that awkward? Then again, what was he really supposed to say to something like that? Was I just overthinking things?

Maybe I was, because a second later the cloth brushed across my face again. "Well, maybe someday, but certainly not anytime soon. Anyway, I think you're all good now."

"Yeah?" I asked, looking up at him again.

He smiled and nodded. He tossed the washcloth off to the side of the tub somewhere and motioned for me to move closer to him. I scooted next to him without any hesitation. After all, what good is sharing a bath without a little bit of closeness?

Apparently, my 'close' wasn't close enough though. Immediately, he shook his head and wrapped his arms around me pulling me into his lap.

I was starting to think this was a habit of his. Lifting and moving me around however he pleased. Then again, I guess I couldn't really say I minded too much either. Having his arms wrapped around me, the security I felt in them, it gave me a certain sense of comfort. Plus, I couldn't really say I was ever disappointed with where I ended up either.

He sat me facing forward, my back pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around my waist in a tight, but comfortable, embrace. As his lips left a trail of soft kisses along my shoulder, it sent a shiver racing through my body. He gave an amused hum and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the curve of my neck.

"You know, I meant what I said earlier," he murmured. "I really do think you're perfect."

My heart fluttered inside my chest. How was I even supposed to respond to something like that? Say "Thank you?" I wasn't exactly used to receiving honest, heartfelt compliments. And, unfortunately, my default setting for them was self-deprecating humor.

"Well, I can't be that perfect. I'm cheating on my husband," I commented, forcing laughter.

"You're still perfect, he's just a prick," he grumbled, squeezing me tighter. "How a bastard like that somehow ended up with a woman like you... I just don't get what you ever saw in him."

I let out a heavy sigh. "What he wanted me to see."

"What do you mean?"

I was hesitant to answer him. For a couple of reasons. Mostly, because it seemed like our conversation had, somehow, ended up looping back to Phil again. And I didn't want that. I wanted to spend my time with Mason with Mason. Not dwelling on my past mistakes with Phil.

But maybe that was the exact reason I should answer him. To finally have everything out in the open. At least, as far as the "Phil" situation was concerned. That way there wouldn't be any more of these questions looming over us like a dark, miserable cloud.

And it would be nice to finally talk with somebody honestly about Phil. Somebody besides Eli and Ronnie, that is.

"Well... the short answer is that he's always been a manipulative bastard."

"And the long answer?" He asked.

I let out another sigh, leaning my head back against his shoulder. "That's a very long story."

He shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to be."

I couldn't help but smile at the matter-of-fact way that he said it. Well, I guess if I was going to open up this can of worms with anybody, it might as well be Mason. I shifted a bit and laid back against him, getting myself comfortable.

"Then I guess we can start at the beginning. I was twenty years old, broke, and working at a shitty little off-brand coffee shop near Main Street..."

***

The next part will become free on January 13, 2025, but until then, it can be unlocked for only 5 coins.