Chapter Three Terrace Heat

It's been a few days since Sonia and I last tangled--work's been a grind, no time to catch up. But I've been plotting, lining up a fresh spot for us. I've scored terrace access now--top of my building, private, wide-open sky, a concrete slab edged with a low wall and a rusty rail. It's quiet up there, just the hum of the city below and the warm breeze rolling through, perfect for dodging prying eyes. I figure it's our next move when she swings by on the weekend. Sure enough, Saturday hits, and my phone buzzes that afternoon--Sonia, voice bright and eager: "I'm coming over." She's on her scooter again, and I'm ready.

I'd just cracked open a steamy erotica book--picked it up on a whim--when she called. It's a wild one: a 21-year-old college girl lands a job, ends up the boss's plaything, pages dripping with heat. She'd asked about it on the phone, curious, saying, "Bring it--I wanna see." So I tuck it under my arm as we climb the stairs--her steps light, curls bouncing, that shy-bold spark flickering in her eyes. We hit the terrace, late sun painting the concrete gold, air thick with summer. I spread a blanket I'd stashed earlier--rough, but it beats the hard floor--and we settle in, city sprawl stretching out below us, distant rooftops glinting.

She grabs the book, flipping it open, and starts reading aloud--voice soft, teasing, curling around the words like she's daring me. It's about the girl's first day--boss eyeing her, tension building--and Sonia's watching me, grinning as my breath hitches. She ramps it up, her tone turning sultry, drawing out the steamy bits--hands brushing thighs, whispers in the office--and I'm hooked, tenting my pants fast. She glances down, smirks, keeps going. "He pinned her against the desk," she reads, slow and warm, "and she couldn't say no." My pulse climbs--she knows exactly what she's doing.

We're sitting cross-legged on the blanket, and she shifts closer--leaning in, one hand undoing my pants, tugging at the zipper. I lift my hips, and she yanks them down in one smooth pull--my cock springs free, hard and ready. She sets the book on my chest, smirking wider. "Your turn," she says, pushing me flat on my back. I grab the book, voice shaky, as she kneels over me--leaning down, kissing my shaft soft, then all over, tracing it with her lips. I stumble through a line--"He slid her skirt up"--and she takes me in her mouth--warm, firm, so damn good. She's tuned into every word, that teasing grin flashing, giving me a blowjob that's pure fire. Her tongue swirls, lips grip tight, hands join in--she's all in, like she's got a plan I can't see yet.

I try to read--boss bending the girl over now--but she's relentless, grinning like she's winning this game. My pants are still bunched at my ankles, limiting her, so she reaches down--slips them off completely, tossing them aside. "Better," she murmurs, spreading my legs wide. She dips lower, sucking my balls--I groan loud, head tipping back on the blanket. She laughs, presses her left hand over my mouth. "Shh, someone might hear," she whispers, tongue still lapping at me--soft, warm, teasing 'til I'm soaked. Her spit trails down--I feel it pooling--and she's not slowing. She shifts back to my cock, jerking me with one hand, sucking with a steady bob--I'm climbing fast, heat building. "I'm close," I warn, voice rough, book slipping from my grip. She doesn't ease off--eyes locked on mine, daring me to lose it.

I burst--she keeps going--mouth locked on as I shoot. I grab her head, fingers tangling in her curls, holding her there--thrusting up into her warmth, chasing the edge. Ropes of cum hit her tongue--she takes it all, sucking every drop, not stopping 'til I'm drained. She sits up, swallows in one smooth move--big, satisfied smile lighting her face--then wipes her lips with the back of her hand, casual as anything. I'm reeling, chest heaving, trying to catch my breath as the terrace spins a little. She picks up the book, flipping through like we're just hanging out, humming softly. I glance down--still dripping a bit--so I squeeze out the last drop. She leans in quick, licks it up with a playful swipe--grinning wide--then drops the book back in my lap. "Gotta run," she says, hopping up, brushing off her jeans.

I'm still half-dazed, sprawled on the blanket--sun dipping low now, sky turning pink. She bends down, grabs her scooter helmet from the corner where she'd tossed it, and I drag myself up, pants back on, legs shaky. We weave down the stairs, her ahead, me trailing--her energy buzzing even after all that. At the curb, her scooter's parked under a streetlight--she straddles it, helmet snapping on. I step close, tilt her chin up--kiss her slow, warm, tasting a hint of myself on her lips. "See you soon," she says, voice soft but sure, then kicks the engine to life. She rides off--taillight fading into the dusk--leaving me standing there, grinning like a fool, terrace heat still humming in my veins.

That was Sonia taking the lead--playful, bold, her spark flaring bright up there. She's learning fast, flipping the game on me, and I'm already hooked.