Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
RHYS
I know Angel’s never given a blowjob before. But honestly? He could do nothing but drool on me and I would come my brains out.
When he asked if it was okay for him to suck my cock, my head had nearly exploded anyway. It’s easy to pretend I’m a girl when I’m the one giving him a blowjob or when he’s pounding me in the ass from behind. But the fact that he wants to put his mouth on my dick… straight guys don’t do that, right?
He wouldn’t want to suck cock if he’s just experimenting or indulging his wild side. Right? I mean, sucking cock is pretty gay. Even with frotting, he could close his eyes, ignore the other dick, and focus on how good it feels. But you can’t really ignore the dick when it’s in your mouth. You can’t pretend you’re not sucking cock when you’re actively sucking it.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’m going to strangle myself with all the thoughts racing frantically through my mind. Although, it might not matter in the end, not if Angel sucks my brains out through my cock. Which he is doing a very decent job of.
It’s taking every ounce of self-control I possess to sit still and let him do his thing. Let him lick where he wants and suck however he wants. The roughness of his hands on my sensitive flesh is deliciously painful. The scrape of his beard sends pleasure radiating through me. And when he palms my balls, both of them fitting neatly into one hand. Holy hell, he could crush them with one squeeze, and why the fuck do I find that arousing?
He’s slow at first, exploring and getting used to my size and shape. He makes these curious “aha” sounds when he figures out something new—like digging his tongue into my slit or wriggling it on that delicate spot under the head.
But once he gets going, there’s no stopping him. He sucks like he’s trying to drink the cum from my balls. He laps at me, from base to tip, like I’m a fucking ice cream cone. He mouths at my balls, almost like he’s chewing on them.
I feel like I’m being devoured, and fuck, I am here for it.
Angel’s got his lips sealed around the head and he’s working the base of my cock with one hand. The other one is between his legs, and I don’t have to guess to know what it’s doing down there.
He sucks and sucks, tongue swirling and dipping. My balls are drawn up so tight, they might end up inside my body.
I’m going to come. There’s no helping it. Even if he stopped now, dropping me and stepping away, I’d still come. I’m too close to the edge. I can’t pull back.
“Angel!” I push at his head, but he lets out a stubborn grunt and sucks even harder. “Angel, I’m going to come! Fuck, I can’t hold it back anymore. Fuck! Fuck! Angel!”
My orgasm starts deep in my groin, rocketing through me and destroying everything in its path. My body folds in on itself and I curl around Angel’s head, holding him in my lap.
I erupt directly into Angel’s mouth, but he doesn’t pull off, doesn’t even flinch. There’s no hesitation before he starts swallowing it down. Every spurt, every gush, every single drop. He takes it all and greedily eats it up.
Goddamn. Jesus Christ. Lord Almighty.
I collapse back onto the bed, still quivering from the orgasm. My skin is electrified, with sparks dancing along the surface. My hole twitches, wanting to be filled despite how wrung out I already am. I want his cum inside me, the way my cum is inside him.
The bed dips as Angel joins me on it. He props himself up on an elbow and gazes down at me. The gold chain dangles from his neck and the crucifix is warm where it touches my shoulder. He looks worried. “Was it okay?”
I chuckle, or at least try to. I can’t manage any more than a couple huffs. “It was more than okay.”
My hand floats up and he catches it, bringing my palm to his mouth. He plants a kiss on it, then I reach around to the back of his neck. I pull him down to me for a kiss. Lazy and slow. I lick between his lips, tasting myself on him, and even though I’m spent, my dick stirs.
I can’t believe he swallowed. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s scooped up my cum and eaten it more than once—completely unprompted. Makes sense that he’d want to drink it from the source. Goddamn. It’s so hot, I can’t even. My Angel, my shy, cuddly teddy bear, seems to have developed a taste for my cum.
“Give me a second and we can go again,” I say.
He’s still hard, hot to the touch and leaking. When I grab his cock with my free hand, he thrusts into my fist with a whimpering gasp. I stroke him, light and easy, keeping him primed as I catch my breath.
As the daze of my orgasm clears, I push Angel onto his back, bracketing his body with my hands and knees. He gazes up at me, so open and trusting. I can read every emotion as they flash across his face. Excitement, a touch of nerves, desire. But more than any of that is wonder, awe, reverence. It’s not the first time he’s looked at me like that. And god, what I wouldn’t give to have him look at me like that every single fucking day for the rest of my life.
Mentally, I pull back. Nothing good lies in that direction. Just focus on now, on this moment. Enjoy what we have today and don’t think too much about tomorrow.
I lean to the side to grab my bottle of lube and a strip of The Camboy Network branded condoms. I hold the condoms up.
“I haven’t been with anyone since our shoot,” I say to Angel with a question in my eyes.
He shakes his head. “Neither have I.”
“So?” I dangle the condoms over the edge of the bed.
Angel nods and I drop them to the floor.
Impatient, I squeeze out a dollop of lube onto my fingers and hiss at the cold when I reach back to prep myself. But before I can get even the tip of one finger inside, Angel stops me .
“Can I watch?” he asks, shyly, as if he thinks I’ll say no.
Pfft. As if. Of course I want Angel to watch. I climb off him and flop down onto my back, then lift my legs into a V that perfectly frames my body. Angel scrambles into position in front of me, kneeling, eyes glued to my hole.
Slowly, I probe myself with one finger, then bear down so it slips inside.
Angel gasps, mouth hanging open.
I sink my finger in as far as it’ll go before pulling it all the way out. In. Then out. Slowly at first, then faster. The lube squelches and a visible shudder runs through Angel.
I add another finger, stretching myself easily. My muscles relax into the familiar invasion.
Lying on my stomach, my dick is well on its way to fully hard again. But it isn’t the fingerfucking that’s making it grow. It’s the expression on Angel’s face. The rapt attention and unabashed eagerness.
He reaches out, almost like he’s in a trance, and touches me, right where my fingers disappear into my body. It’s just a single finger, a tiny spot of contact, but it sends heat coursing through me.
“Fuck. Angel.”
He pushes on the muscle, as if testing how firm it is. It shouldn’t make me squirm with want, but it does. I buck, trying to chase that feeling, wanting more of him.
“How does it feel?” he asks, with so much innocent honesty that I laugh out loud.
I kind of sound pained. I kinda am. Angel’s gaze flicks to mine. The expression on his face fucking takes my breath away.
“It… it feels… fucking amazing.” It’s a poor description that completely fails to capture everything I feel. But it’s all my lust-addled mind can come up with at the moment.
Angel glances back down to where I’ve still got two fingers stuffed in my ass. “Can I?”
Jesus Christ. Angel and his totally innocuous questions. They’re going to kill me. They will literally murder me.
I nod, then move to pull my fingers out.
“No, wait, stay there.”
What the fuck?
Angel grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers, then brings them back to my hole.
Oh. Motherfucking goddamn. I squeeze my eyes shut as he gently places a finger next to mine again. It’s all I can do to lie still. I’m vibrating. My entire body is twitching.
My eyes fly open when Angel starts pressing his finger into my ass alongside my own. I bear down, letting him in and a moan escapes me as he slots into place.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
He wiggles his finger so it slips between the two I’ve got in there, then curls it so we’re hooked together and intertwined.
The feeling is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It feels like we’re holding hands. Inside my body. The shifting and twisting of our fingers against each other is incredible. It’s unbelievable.
Then it gets better.
Angel pulls his finger out. But since it’s all tangled up with my fingers, we both end up pulling out. With just the tips inside, he pushes back in. And now he’s fucking me with our fingers. Yeah, because that’s a totally normal, completely not-gay thing for a straight guy to do .
How am I still alive? How have I not expired and gone to heaven? Or maybe Angel has brought heaven down to earth.
He fucks me—makes me fuck myself. Then he adds another finger to our woven digits. The stretch is divine. The fullness is so satisfying. The strange bumps and dips of our knuckles as they slide past my rim is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
But it’s the way our hands are locked together, the way Angel’s directing the movement with so much deliberate care. If I hadn’t already come once, I’d probably be coming right now.
“Fuck, Angel.” The words come out in barely-there gasps
“Is this okay?” His voice is lower and a little more rumbly than usual.
I nod, unable to speak. I don’t think I could handle it if this was any more okay.
He picks up speed and I practically sob. We bottom out hard and the impact against my ass sends reverberations up through the rest of my body.
I’ve never been fucked like this. In all my years as a camboy, never have I ever thought to get fucked like this. How is this possible? How did Angel, with less than a month of gay sex under his belt, come up with something so bizarre and so incredibly hot?
Jesus. Fuck.
“Angel!” I whine. I can’t take much more of this. Either Angel sticks his cock in me or I’m going to have to tap out. “I need you. Please. Fuck me. I need your cock.”
Gingerly, Angel eases our fingers out of my ass. My hole gapes open, quivering with nothing to bear down on. It needs to be filled. It needs Angel filling it.
I reach for Angel’s cock, coating it with the lube on my hand. He tops up with a squirt from the bottle, and I direct him to my hole.
There’s no waiting, no easing him in. I lower my legs and wrap them around his waist. As soon as his cock touches my hole, I push my heels into his ass and drive him forward. I’m impaled in a nanosecond.
“Yesss.” I sink into the sensation of being stuffed. Angel’s cock fits so perfectly, it hits all the right buttons inside me.
I run my hands up and down Angel’s sides, down toward his hips, then up his back. His body hair tickles my palms and the tingles travel along my arms.
He props himself up with his hands on either side of my head. His necklace hangs between us, bumping into my chin. My cock is trapped against his stomach.
I don’t usually love missionary, and not because it’s boring like some people think. I like being on top, taking charge, being in control. I like teasing my partner, giving them pleasure, watching them fall apart and knowing it’s because of me.
But with Angel, everything is different. I mean, yes, I still want all those things, but I also want things the other way around.
I want his weight on me, pressing me firmly into the mattress. I want to be smothered by him and engulfed in him. I want to lose myself in him and let him have control over me. I want him to feel powerful, to feel strong, to feel like he’s in charge.
I yank him down to me, and we both grunt when he drops to his elbows. I catch his lips with mine, tangling our tongues together the way our fingers were earlier. I fill my lungs with the scent of our sex, of my cum, and underneath it all, that fresh sawdust that is Angel himself.
I wrap myself around Angel like a fucking octopus, arms and legs snaking around his back. “Fuck me, teddy bear,” I whisper against his lips.
And he does. He takes me apart, inch by careful inch. Not with hard, bone-shattering thrusts. But with slow and equally soul-destroying ones. It’s definitely Angel-style fucking and I am here for it.
He rocks against me, barely pulling out before pushing back in. The movement has the underside of my cock rubbing against the soft hairs on his belly. He peppers my face with kisses before licking his way to my neck. I crane my head to give him better access. He nips my earlobe, laps at my pulse point, then buries his nose into the crook of my neck.
I cling to him, reveling in the exquisite torture, letting myself drift in the pool of pleasure he’s creating for us. I could die like this and be happy. All wrapped up in Angel, inside and out, feeling loved, cherished, precious.
My eyes sting suddenly as emotions surge, unbidden, to the surface. No. No. Not now. Not like this. When I can’t run away, when I can’t hide from him.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. This is just fucking. This is just sex. It’s only physical. I’m just guiding Angel through his exploration of gay sex.
There’s nothing personal about this. Nothing emotional. I’m definitely, absolutely, one-thousand-percent not in love with my teddy bear.
A tear escapes.