She didn't look sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed, but smiled nonetheless. Suddenly, she brightened as if a Lightbulb went off in her head.

“I know. The couch!"

“What ?"

Sam was already tugging me by the hand into the family room, and I had to try and hold my pants up around my knees just to manage a duck walk fast enough to keep up.

“Mari managed to do it over here on the couch.

The angle might be easier than straight on. I couldn't breathe the other way."

“Uh, worth a try," I conceded, allowing the spirited young vixen to push me down into the couch and drop my pants back to my ankles.

Sam grinned at me, stroked my shaft twice with her right hand, and then bent over to inhale my prick. Halfway down, she paused and looked up at me to make sure she had my full and undivided attention. And when our eyes met, she actually winked.

I'LL spoil the ending and tell you she still couldn't quite do it. She tried for about ten minutes straight and never got closer than an inch away. It still felt AMAZING to me, but by the end of it, Sam was hunched over on her knees, hugging herself and outright bawling.

Seriously, Sam was crying in abject misery over not quite being able to deep-throat me. I quickly went to kneel beside her, wrapping my arms around her reassuringly, shushing her gently, and telling her over and again, “It's okay, it's okay. You really don't have to do it. I don't mind."

“It's not okay," Sam insisted. "I WANT to do it."

“I know you do. But I think it's time you at least took a break. This isn't a big deal to me."

It was the wrong thing to say. Sam suddenly stared at me, righteous fury in her eyes.

“Well it IS a big deal to ME."

I blinked and let go of her, holding my hands up defensively. As reassuringly as I could manage, I said, "I can see that, and I appreciate you trying so hard."

Sam furrowed her eyebrows and hung her head dejectedly.

“You really don't care, do you?"

“What do you mean?"

"You really don't care if I finish the deep-throat. Even if I did, it wouldn't change the way you feel about me, would it?”

“Of course not," I replied reassuringly.

“I already promised I wouldn't love you any less if you couldn't do it."

“You're not Listening," she complained, shaking her head.

"I'm trying." I reached out to grab a few tissues and handed them to her.

With a sigh, Sam accepted the tissues, sat back on her heels and wiped her eyes. Even when she was done, her eyes remained closed. She went silent for a long while, just... thinking... But the deep-set frown was etched onto her face, and I desperately tried to think of something else to make her feel better.

“Hey, climb up here," I said softly, suiting action to my words as I hugged her around her midsection and bodily lifted her up onto the couch, parking her butt right at the edge so that she had to recline quite a bit before her shoulders and head hit the backrest. Sam didn't resist, although she looked at me curiously. But her eyes did go wide when I slid the hem of her dress up, glided my hands along her stockinged legs, reached beneath to take hold of her panties, and started tugging them down.