SAWYER #4
“Ngh…” He choked and threw his head back as I wrapped my other hand around his thickness, gripping him tightly and feeling every pulse that reacted to my right hand’s work. I massaged his rim, savoring the sense of warmth of his body, then added pressure.
He was skilled enough to know what to do. Tension disappeared from his cock and his hole. It melted away as his muscles relaxed to allow me in. And I took the opportunity gladly, burying my index finger inside this sweet, innocent guy.
“Mother…fucker,” he cried, his hole clenched enough my knuckle for a moment before he laughed softly with relief. “That was sudden.”
His cock throbbed twice in my hand. “You loved it. Don’t lie.”
“Mm.” Instead of searching for words, he put one hand on my head.
He didn’t need to push. I was more than willing to please him like this.
It mattered to me that Noah would learn and remember that being a top or a bottom didn’t dictate any of the dynamics between him and his partner.
They were preferred roles but as fluid as I could imagine.
Just because I was a top didn’t mean I couldn’t kneel for him and give him the ride of his life.
And just because he was a bottom — or so he had thought when I’d asked — it didn’t mean he couldn’t grab my head and force me to swallow him whole.
I pressed my second finger against his hole, but I was far gentler this time.
Slowly, I added half an inch, stretching him until he moaned and tensed.
I pulled back, penetrating him lightly with my index finger, wrapping my lips around the tip of his cock.
The flavor of his precum was deliciously stronger.
After a heartbeat or two, I pressed the middle finger against him once more, sliding in with ease.
Noah curled his fingers, gripping a fistful of hair on the back of my head, yanking me down on his cock until it pressed against the back of my throat.
I was experienced enough — more than enough — in relaxing the muscles in my throat at a moment’s notice.
He slid in, holding himself deep in me, cutting off the flow of air into my lungs while I buried both fingers deep into him.
The longer he held himself lodged in my mouth, the harder I ravaged his tight entrance with slick and skillful fingers.
A cough erupted from me and I jerked my head back, saliva bubbling from the corners of my mouth.
“Fuck, yes,” Noah moaned.
He liked it rough and dirty, I noticed. He’d shown me hints of it before, especially when I edged him. The whole truth of it was that Noah liked all shades of it. He could be thrilled with a vanilla missionary quickie as much as with an hour-long torment that left me shivering and begging to come.
As I rammed my fingers into him, quickly leaning down on his hard length, he whimpered and trembled. His other hand gripped the edge of the vintage arcade game almost until it shook.
I sped up, pushing against his special spot and sucking the air out of my mouth to heighten pressure and pleasure both. He whimpered once, crying out a warning in the heartbeat that followed, but I persisted. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to eat him and surprise him when I was fed.
Noah’s hole clenched around my knuckles, and he spilled the heat of his pleasure into my mouth.
Some trickled down my throat; the rest coated my tongue.
Its salty-sweet flavor gave off a hint of pineapple that made my heart trip.
He’d read that somewhere and tried it without saying a word.
The scent of his sex was like the scent of the first rain after a long drought, refreshing and bringing relief. It filled me to bursting.
Noah throbbed in my mouth rapidly, his hole flexing around my fingers as I gently pulled them out.
And, when I felt that he was spent and relaxing, I pulled my head back.
After finishing in my mouth, the glazed quality of his eyes excited me beyond belief, and I was twice as determined to surprise him with the extent of my wickedness.
I rose to my feet and looked into his eyes as I licked my lips. Gently, I took him in my hand while he softened, my other hand on the back of his head.
His eyes widened as I leaned in as if I was breaking some sacred rule. He gasped shortly.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” I whispered.
The blush on his cheeks could have been from the heat of the previous moment, but it could have been from my question, too. He shook his head.
“Do you want to? You’re delicious.” I let my lips hover over his.
My mouth was wet and messy. This moment was sinful enough that I could live the rest of my life as a saint and still be turned away from the Pearly Gates.
Oh, I would walk away whistling and with a skip in my stride.
If he kissed me now, it would be worth an eternity of damnation.
Noah hesitated only a moment, then smashed his lips against mine, parting them and letting our tongues touch and play. I’d offered him a taste, but he reached and took the whole of it. If I was wicked, he was the Devil himself. I loved it.
He kissed me with the sort of lust a person was near incapable of right after an orgasm. But that was Noah. Insatiable. And he was my perfect match.