The Choice by Monica Belle Read Free Book Online Page A

get in the way of my degree, so I promised myself I’d complete two hours of research for my essay and then set off. Dr Etheridge had provided me with a reading list, which gave me a good start, although I knew I’d do better if I included references he hadn’t suggested as well, which meant chasing up obscure books in the depths of the Bodleian.
    By the time I emerged into the fresh air I was feeling that I’d earned a break, and set off for the river with a spring in my step. I got a bit lost, what with different branches of the Cherwell, and ended up having to cadge a lift across where it joins the Thames. The pub was on the far side, with a beer garden sloping down to the river, and Stephen was already there, looking very bronzed and fit in his rowing gear. I greeted him with a kiss, keen to affirm our relationship, provoking a pleased grin and the offer of a drink.
    An hour later I was very sure that we were together. He was keen to be nice, very careful of my opinions in case he offended me and also to touch, but gently, as if I was made of bone china and he was scared I’d break. That might have put me off a little, had I not remembered the way he’d handled me once I’d got him too aroused to control himself, but I was determined that if we were to be together he would feel able to assert himself sexually. He’d decided to eat, and I waited until he’d finished before popping the question.
    ‘Would you like a treat?’
    ‘I’m full, thanks, and I’ve got a tute this afternoon so I’d better not drink too much.’
    ‘Not that sort of treat. Come on.’
    He didn’t seem to understand, until we were some way back down the lane and I’d pulled him in among the bushes. There weren’t many people about and the undergrowth was so dense we’d quickly lost sight of the river, but I went well in just to be on the safe side. He followed, happy enough to let me lead and a little surprised by my behaviour, especially when I sat down on a low branch and pulled up my top.
    ‘That’s the way you boys like it, isn’t it?’
    ‘Um … yes. Wow!’
    I had to beckon him over, but had quickly pulled his rowing shorts aside to release his cock and balls, first into my hand and then into my mouth.
    ‘You really don’t hang around, do you?’
    I shook my head, sucking eagerly. He’d begun to swell immediately and I closed my eyes in bliss for the taste and feel of him, also the knowledge that he was growing aroused for me so quickly. There’s no better turn-on than a man who responds well, and I’d soon abandoned my idea of simply taking him to orgasm and leaving it at that. I pulled off my top and took him between my breasts.
    ‘You can do what you like with me; you know that, don’t you?’
    ‘Anything?’
    ‘Anything.’
    ‘God, you’re lovely …’
    As he trailed off he grabbed my breasts, squeezing them around his cock. I fumbled with the button of my jeans, sure he’d rip them down to get me bare and make me bend over to be taken from behind. I repeated my offer, just to be on the safe side.
    ‘Anything, I mean it.’
    This time his answer was to come in my cleavage. I hadn’t been expecting it, and he was squeezing so hard it hurt as he finished himself off, gasping out his thanks while he was still doing it.
    ‘You’re wonderful, Poppy, so wonderful … the best …’
    He gave me a last squeeze and stood back, looking pleased with himself. It took me a moment to get myself together, and for what he’d done to me to cease to be a shock and become something extraordinarily, deliciously rude. I wasn’t finished either, and I wasn’t having any nonsense from him.
    ‘I think you’d better use your tongue. Come on.’
    I was already pushing my jeans and knickers down as I spoke. He swallowed hard as he saw what I wanted, but, if there’s one thing men have to learn, it’s that fair’s fair.
    ‘Come on, it won’t hurt you.’
    Again he swallowed, hesitating. I beckoned to him as I let my