22. Bryce #2
He nods, and my insides almost melt from his sweetness.
“Fuck, you’re handsome,” I say. “Now, think about what I did to you. What did you like? What felt good?” His brow furrows in concentration as he nods slowly, a glimmer of understanding lighting up his eyes. “Now try that with me.”
I move a little closer, and Emerson takes my dick in his hand, studying it. He’s so close, his warm breath colliding against the precum coating my tip, making every nerve even more sensitive.
“Will you tell me if I do something wrong?”
“Of course.” I push myself a little closer, and he rubs the head against his lips. “But, I’ll also tell you when you’re doing well. Like that. That feels amazing. Rubbing it against your lips. Your whiskers tickle in the best way.”
“How about this?”
He takes my cock and brushes the head against his cheek, and getting lost in his beard is a new sensation. A shiver rushes through my body as a connection to Emerson emerges within me, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Yes, just like that. Now, take the head in your mouth.”
And then, like a star student, he takes me in, replicating much of the tongue action I gave him minutes ago.
“There you go,” I say. “You’re doing that just right.”
I glance down, waiting for a reaction, but he’s too lost in blowing me. His eyes fixed on my dick as he takes more in.
“Don’t rush. Take your time. And remember, you can use your lips. Your tongue. Go up and down the shaft if your throat needs a rest.”
He pulls off, gasping for air.
“Well, this is fucking delicious.”
Laughter spills out of me, and then, to make it worse, or maybe better, he buries the head in his whiskers again.
“Do you want me to fuck your beard?”
“I don’t know. Is that a thing?”
I shrug. “We can make it a thing. Lie back.”
Emerson does as I say, and I carefully climb up, taking his hands and moving them above his head, gently wrapping his wrists with the tie. Those fucking sexy armpits come into view, almost glaring back at me, and I’m done for.
“Hold still, for a second.” I lean over, burying my face in his right pit, sniffing his manliness with my entire soul.
“I showered,” he says. “Right before you came up to the roof.”
“Mmmh. Yup.” He smells like the mountain spring soap he bought for the shower, but there’s a tinge of his sweetness underneath. I’m ready to dive right in.
I run my tongue from the bottom of his pit to the top, then skate over to his collar bone. Emerson dips his chin down so our noses almost touch.
“Hey there.” His voice trembles the slightest bit, and I remember what we were about to do before his underarms distracted me.
“Hey.” I push the tip of my nose on his. “Is your beard ready for my dick, Professor?”
He nods quickly, and yeah, I’m definitely done for.
“Stay right here, and …” I place my cock on his beard, and slowly thrust back and forth. “There we go.”
He gently rolls his head from side to side, and the entire underside of my dick comes to life as it brushes against his whiskers. Emerson’s staring at me, and fuck, my insides bubble, watching him study me. The professor has become the student.
“Now,” I say. “Stick your tongue out.”
He nods quickly, and the warmth of his lips adds to the prickling from his beard. The combination is wonderful as I rock back and forth against him.
“That’s it,” I say. “Just lie back and enjoy it.”
When he lifts his head at just the right angle and my cock slides into his mouth, my shoulders drop at the gratification of being back inside him.
“Oh, damn, that feels amazing, Em.” His tongue swirls around the head, and my eyes strain to stay open, but I keep my gaze locked on him. “Yup, do that with your tongue again. Just like that.”
When he lets out a little gagging noise, I pull out, my cock dripping with his saliva as I return to fucking his beard.
“Don’t hurt yourself, Professor.”
This elicits a smile as he uses his tongue to wipe a bit of saliva from his lower lip.
“This is fun,” he says, and something about the directness and simplicity of his words brings a massive grin to my face.
“So much fun,” I reply. “And we’re just getting started.”
I unwrap his wrists and drop the tie next to Emerson’s head. He moves a hand to my balls, and with a thrust toward his nose, his fingers shift back, grazing my ass as his eyes sparkle.
“Do you want to play with my hole? Get it ready for your farm-boy nerdy-professor cock?” I reach back and wrap my fingers around him. “You’re so fucking hard.”
“Can you reach the condoms?” He nods toward the nightstand.
“Yes, but I’m not quite ready. And I wanted to chat about that.
” My dick continues to get lost in his beard as his fingers play around the perimeter of my hole, and I gently stroke him.
“I know we were in a rush last time, so we didn’t discuss it, but I’m on PrEP.
Regularly tested, and well, I’m good to go without. ”
“Oh. Well, I haven’t been with anyone in … years.” He smiles, his whiskers somehow finding a new way to pleasure me.
“So, if you’re okay with it, we don’t need to use them.” My eyebrows rise.
He nods then runs his tongue along the underside of my cock for good measure.
“But first, Professor, if you’re game, I have another way you can get me nice and ready for this.” I give his cock a gentle tug.
“Bryce, I’m game for anything with you.”
“Okay,” I say, carefully turning around to face his dick. “Have you ever heard of rimming?”
He laughs, but I can’t see his face. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“I thought your beard might feel …”
And before I can finish, he grabs my hips, yanks me back, and rams his tongue inside.
“Easy there. It’s not ice cream, and you don’t have to share.”
He pulls back. “Sorry. Sorry, I …”
I turn around, catching his eye. “No need to apologize. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” With a quick pat to his firm chest, I grab the lube from the nightstand drawer.
“Now, while you do … Oh!” He surprises me with how deep his tongue gets. “Yowsers, didn’t realize I was dealing with Gene Simmons from KISS.”
Emerson pauses, his whiskers tickling the skin on my ass. “Who from what?”
“Never mind. I can teach you about eighties glam rock another time.”
With the lube in hand, I warm a little between my palms and apply it to his dick.
The light from the street filters in, and I take another moment to appreciate just how spectacular he is from this vantage point.
I spread the lube all over him, and he thrusts into my grip.
Finally, my fingers dab a little right below his balls. For later.
I’m not sure if Emerson has ever rimmed before or if he’s just outstanding out of the gate, but he’s got me very … ready.
He yanks my waist down, flicking his tongue deep inside me. “Are you gunning for extra credit there, Professor?”
Panting as he pulls back, his warm breath on my hole sends a shiver right up my back to the nape of my neck. “Sorry, just enjoying myself.”
“Never apologize for A+ ass-eating.”
I lift my leg and turn around, moving my mouth to his, and he blinks tentatively. Men are always unsure if I’ll want to kiss after, but it’s my ass, and I always provide a clean workspace.
With a nibble at his lower lip, I pull his tongue in my mouth, moving back and positioning his dick right where I want it.
“Now, Professor, are you ready to rail me?”
He nods quickly, and I dip back down to taste his lips. Before I push back, I grab the rogue tie next to his head, wrap it around his neck, and take the end in my left hand. “Something to hold on to.”
I lower myself on Emerson Grant’s gorgeous cock. With a deep inhale, I take him in.
“One second, Professor.” Another breath. “Let me just acclimate.”
When I finally open my eyes, he’s staring up at me. And that look. That’s when I know it for sure. Emerson is nothing like all the other guys.
“Okay, Professor, ready to fuck me?”
“Absolutely.”
And with that, he thrusts up, holding my hips as I tug gently on his tie.
After a minute, the pleasure takes over, and I drop the silk fabric, moving my hands to his chest. I tilt my head back, and honestly, the pleasure, the intimacy, the connection with him—this might be the most satisfying sex of my life .
“You good?” Emerson moves a hand to my stomach, rubbing it, perhaps for good luck.
“Yeah, just enjoying the ride.”
A smile peeks out from his beard, and he resumes. With one hand resting on his chest, the other moves back, massaging his balls as my index finger takes an expedition south.
I catch his gaze, and there’s nothing telling me to stop, but of course, I’m a gentleman, and want to check. “This okay?”
“I’ve never really … but with you, yeah.” He lets out a focused breath. “Go ahead.” His palm massages my thigh. “I’m putty in your hands.” He plunges deep, and with permission granted, my fingers swipe some of the lube from his balls and head for his hole.
I don’t go past the second knuckle. I’m not trying to send the man into orbit. We need to work up to more. But even with half of a finger, the expression on Emerson’s face shifts into overdrive.
“Holy fuck, Bryce. That. Whatever you’re doing. Holy crap.” He makes the cutest circle with his lips and blows a deep breath out. “Just keep doing it. Please.”
His head pushes back into the pillow. He’s too handsome. Too kind. Too sweet. I can’t stand it, and I abandon his ass to lean forward and kiss him.
The moment our lips touch, his dick pops out. Oops.
We both laugh, mine more of a giggle to his deeper chuckle.
He takes my face in his hands, holding me close, and I’m not sure if it’s the light hitting his face just right or something else, but my heart gallops like it’s about to burst out of my chest.
“I’m close,” I say. “Can you fuck me a little more?”
“Bryce, I can fuck you a lot more.”
There’s more laughter, and then I move back, his cock sliding right back in like a dancer slotted into place, finding its perfect positioning.
“All right, Professor. Ready?”
He nods, his smile morphing into a smirk as he pounds away. My body shakes with each thrust, and the first hints of my orgasm come knocking.
“Soon.” I’m panting now, lost in ecstasy, and so ready to share this moment with him. “Use my hole, Professor. Please.”
Something shifts in him, maybe knowing I’m close, that he’s doing this to me, and Emerson holds me in place, driving up harder than before.
And then it happens. I’m on the edge. About to freefall.
Each plunge of his cock sends ripples of bliss through me.
The first shot lands right on his beard, but I’m too far gone to pause and make a joke.
The subsequent blasts coat his furry chest. And when the final spasm rips through me, I slouch over him. But Emerson doesn’t stop.
“Are you close?” I ask, using a little of the cum on his chest to play with his nipple.
“I think so? Maybe.”
And then, remembering the delight on his face when I fingered him, an idea forms in my head. “Hang on, then.” I lie next to Emerson, moving my hand between his legs and finding his hole. “I’m going to finger you while you jerk yourself off. Okay?”
He’s already stroking himself. “Yeah, please.” I glance down, and he’s leaking precum. He’s so fucking close.
My finger finds his entrance, already lubed up from before, and instead of adding another finger, I simply go deeper. Swirling until he lets out a deep, guttural moan.
“Oh, Bryce, what the fuck, what, wh …”
“Just enjoy it, Professor.” I slope in to nestle my face in his neck, kissing and sucking as his body tenses up.
“Don’t stop.” He’s breathing heavily. “Keep doing that. All that. Fuck, Bryce, I’m close. Now. Don’t stop.”
As thick, warm ropes of cum blast over his chest, I plunge my finger all the way in, doing my best to give him a taste of what it might feel like with another finger. Or my dick. All in time.
He’s moaning, gasping, the release splitting him in half. I move up to kiss him, capturing the last whimpers of his orgasm until he’s finished and we’re lying quietly, softly kissing.
“How was that?” My head rests on the pillow next to his.
He doesn’t reply, but with my hand on his rising chest, I confirm he’s alive.
“That good, eh?” I ask.
“I’ve never … Not like that, anyway.” He turns to face me. “You’re amazing.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, Professor. And if you’re interested, I can think of some extra credit projects you could work on later.”
“Oh. Yeah. Definitely interested. I need all the credits I can scrounge up.”
With another kiss, he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Emerson quietly stands and disappears into the dim light of the living room. A murmur of movement reaches my ears, but I can’t place what it is. I listen, my heart a little heavier with the anticipation of his return.
Moments later, he slips back into the room, his presence like a sigh of relief. “Bobo’s asleep,” he says, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “I just wanted to give him a little goodnight kiss on the head.”
I shift, making room for him, and he slides back into bed.
My head tucks into the crook of his neck as I curl against him.
A feeling, something new and delicate—I can’t quite name it, but it’s special and radiates through my entire body.
I open my mouth to say something, but then my lips close.
We don’t need words now. Just the quiet of the night, the warmth of our bodies, and the city noises outside lulling us to sleep.