Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
In which Ocean plays twenty questions with me, and I want to answer none of them. Luckily, he still rewards me.
I awoke slowly with the classic grogginess that came with a midday nap. It didn’t take me long to orient myself, even though the curtains had been pulled shut, only soft light spilling into the room. But the man to my left was an instant reminder of where I was and what had happened.
He was asleep, his face turned toward me, and I carefully rolled onto my side so I could watch him. I hadn’t even noticed him slipping into bed beside me, a testament to how wiped I had been. God, he was beautiful. His ridiculously long blond lashes were fanned out, and the softest snores drifted up from those sinfully lush lips. His hair was a hot mess, sticking up in every direction, but it only added to his appeal.
I wanted to see him naked. The AC in the room was on, and we’d both taken shelter from the cold draft under the covers, so I could only see one toned arm he’d slung over the covers. He was probably tanned all over, except for his ass, and the mental image of those white ass cheeks made me smile.
We were about the same height, just over six feet, but where I was naturally slim, he was much more toned and developed. I’d never surfed, but I imagined it took considerable skill and effort. With as many hours as he spent surfing, it had to be quite the workout. No wonder he was in such excellent shape.
What made him make that insane offer to stay with me for four weeks? I didn’t understand it. With anyone else, my first thought would’ve been that they were after my money, but not with Ocean. He’d grown up with it and didn’t seem to care much about it. I would’ve never given him access to my credit cards otherwise. His father had betrayed me so deeply that fifteen years later, the wounds were still bleeding, yet I instinctively trusted Ocean. And I wasn’t someone who gave that level of trust easily.
But if not money, what was Ocean getting out of this? He was hot enough to have his choice of men and old enough that his age wasn’t an issue either. So it couldn’t be about sex, and I wasn’t so conceited that I figured he couldn’t do better than me. Sure, it must be nice for him to have a free roof over his head and an opulent one at that, but even with the free food thrown in, it didn’t seem enough.
My adoptive father, the man who had lovingly raised me and who I considered my dad in every way, had been in sales his entire life until his retirement a few years ago. He’d excelled at closing the deal but even more in doing it in a way that made both parties feel like they’d gotten a great deal. And he’d taught me it was never about selling a product to someone. It was about identifying what they would get from it, what the benefit was that would speak to them the most. Once he figured that out, he adapted his sales pitch and spoke to their needs.
That advice stayed with me through college, where I’d gotten a degree in math, followed by an MBA, and then my career. I’d started on the lowest rung of the corporate ladder, but my instinctive grasp for numbers combined with my analytical skills had rocket-launched me into the top of the firm Preston and I had worked for. After our falling out, I started my own firm and never looked back.
My father, now retired and slightly obsessed with his vegetable garden and how to keep the rabbits and deer from devouring everything he grew, was exceedingly proud of me and never failed to tell me so. My parents had a gorgeous home in the Catskill Mountains of New York, about a two-hour drive from the City. At least twice a month, I made the journey to spend a Sunday with them. My mom would cook something she knew I loved, and I’d bring an expensive whiskey to share with my dad while we talked about the Yankees, the Jets, and life in general.
They’d never had an issue with me being gay, had never so much as shown a hint of disappointment. The only thing my mom said on occasion was that she didn’t like that I was still single. She wanted me to find a long-term partner, a husband even. I long ago stopped trying to convince her I wasn’t husband material.
“Are you going to keep staring at me?”
I blinked and met Ocean’s sleepy but amused gaze. “Sorry, I was thinking. I hadn’t even noticed you were awake.”
“I’ll try not to take that personally.” He yawned, then stretched like a cat. The cover slid down, revealing a smooth, tanned chest with only a dusting of fine blond hairs. His pecs were beautifully defined, and without thinking, I let my hand slide across them.
Ocean made a sound awfully close to a purr, and I smiled as I gently pushed the covers lower. With every inch of skin revealed, my desire to see more of him only increased.
Ocean didn’t stop me, only watched me with half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep. Tantalizingly slow, I tucked the covers farther down. His cock lay at half-mast against his stomach, growing more rigid as I watched. He had little hair there too, though whether he manscaped or was naturally smooth, I wasn’t sure.
“You’re stunning,” I said hoarsely. “Absolutely fucking stunning.”
“Thank you.”
He gave himself a lazy tug, a sexy smile playing on his lips. “Tell me what you like.”
“Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what you were after.”
“In bed, Cash. Tell me what you like in bed, what turns you on, what you do and don’t like to do.”
“I’m vers, though I usually top out of convenience. But I can appreciate a good, hard dicking.”
“Oral?”
“Fuck yeah. I have no gag reflex, and I like it rough both ways, providing my partner can take it.”
Ocean’s eyes lit up. “I’ll have to test that lack of gag reflex for myself sometime soon. Do you swallow?”
Jesus, what was with all the detailed questions? I knew there was something to be said for open communication, but what about spontaneity and discovery? “If I’m in the mood…and never after dinner.”
Ocean chuckled. “Good to know. Do you use condoms?”
“Usually, yes, but not always. I get tested every month and I’m on PrEP, so if I know I can trust someone, I don’t see the need.”
“Same. What about kink? You ever done any of that? You know, handcuffs, spanking, maybe some sex toys or role-play?”
His tone was casual, but his gaze was anything but, his eyes studying me as if I were a creature under a microscope. Could he see the unease I felt? Was he picking up on the way my stomach clenched as memories of what I’d shared with Victor flooded me?
I cleared my throat. “Some, but that was a long time ago.”
He let go of his cock and propped himself up on his elbow. “Interesting. What did you do back then?”
I had to keep my cool. If I showed any reluctance in answering this, he’d know something was up. So I gave a casual shrug. “Nothing extreme. We experimented with some stuff.”
“I see. Anything in particular that you liked?”
I could see myself across Victor’s lap, my red ass sticking into the air as he brought me back to earth after spanking me until I lost control of everything. But how could I admit that? I wasn’t so set in my role patterns that I thought my being so much older than him meant I should always be in charge. Confessing how much I had liked surrendering was something else though. I couldn’t give Ocean that power.
“It was a long time ago,” I finally said, the implication that I didn’t remember unspoken.
“We’ll have to do some experimenting of our own then.”
Oh, fuck no. If we did that, he’d figure out the truth in no time. “Or we could, you know, have spectacular sex. Nothing wrong with plain vanilla, right?”
“Sure,” Ocean agreed easily, and I breathed out in relief. “To start with anyway.”
To start with? What was it with him and this kink experimenting? Why was he so hell-bent on trying that? But if I asked him, it would only draw more attention to how much I didn’t want to engage in any of it, which in turn would lead to more questions I had no intention of answering. So I let it go and didn’t say anything.
“How about we start by testing your gag reflex?” Ocean suggested, and I could’ve wept with relief at the more than welcome change in topic.
“I’m game for that.”
In fact, my mouth watered just looking at him. His cock wasn’t overly long, but he had girth, and I loved a challenge. I rolled onto my stomach, then scooted over until I was close enough to him. I saw no reason to play coy or hide my eagerness as I took him in my right hand. I loved how thick he felt, his cock pulsing as I held him.
My first taste was a tentative lick, and I moaned when his saltiness hit my tongue. I loved suckling. I’d once had a lover named Jean-Pierre, a French chef who had been as talented in bed as in the kitchen, and he’d gotten me hooked on suckling. Many nights, I’d fallen asleep with his spent cock in my mouth. Good memories.
Wasn’t it interesting how every dick smelled different? How each one had a unique flavor? Ocean’s seemed extra salty, or maybe that was my imagination because I knew he spent a lot of time in the water.
I sucked the tip into my mouth. God, I loved the feel of him on my tongue, that heavy weight. I explored his slit with the tip of my tongue, then circled it around his cockhead. Adding a bit more saliva, I lapped around his dick, then went back to the head, this time focusing on the frenulum. My own was sensitive, so I loved a bit of tongue action there.
Ocean let out a low moan, and his hands threaded through my hair. He didn’t pull or put pressure on it—not yet anyway—but I loved the possibilities.
I used the flat side of my tongue to lick from the bottom of his shaft to the tip and back again. With some extra spit, his cock was now all slick and shiny, perfect for adding a little hand action to the mix.
Keeping the tip in my mouth, I wrapped my right hand around his cock. Every time I took him in, I added a little wrist twist as I moved my hand up and down. Sure, I could immediately jump to deepthroating him, but why skip the appetizer and go straight for the main course?
Ocean’s hand tightened, and he was panting now, all his muscles tight. I let go of his cock for a moment to nuzzle his balls. They were tight enough to take them into my mouth.
“Jesus, you’re good at this,” Ocean groaned. “I’m fighting to hold still.”
He wanted to actively fuck my mouth? Hell yes. Not that I was getting bored doing things my way, but I loved a good skull fuck. Surprisingly, few men were okay with it, too scared they’d hurt me.
So I rolled onto my back and let go of him. Ocean made a sound of protest, and I chuckled. “I’m changing position so you have a better angle.”
His eyes lit up. “You want me to…?”
“Feed me your cock? Yes, please.”
He scrambled to his knees and slung his leg over my chest, straddling me. I’d barely opened my mouth when he pushed in. My head wasn’t at the ideal angle, so I tilted back and relaxed my throat.
I’d expected him to sink in all the way, but he took my right hand and placed it on his thigh. “Tap out if necessary.”
Wow, he really took safety seriously, didn’t he? Or maybe his concern was to make sure he had continuing consent. Either way, it was a novel experience that I found incredibly sexy.
I squeezed his thigh to signal I understood. Only then did he lean forward and feed me his cock. He still went slow, making sure I wasn’t protesting. As if I would object to having my mouth full of cock. I swear, if I died because I choked on a fat cock, it would be an amazing way to go.
“Fuck, what a gorgeous sight,” Ocean growled as he buried his cock in my throat. His balls rested against my chin, and my eyes watered from the pressure. “Your mouth is so fucking hot and wet.”
He pulled back, and I sucked in a deep, raspy breath. He gave me a few seconds, then slid in again, this time with a little more speed. His eyes never left mine, constantly searching my face. If he was waiting for me to protest, he’d be here a long time. I hummed around his cock, squeezing his thigh at the same time, hoping he’d get the hint.
He did. His eyes darkened as his hips snapped, and for the first time, he drove into me with force, shoving his cock down my throat. Now we were in business.
My eyes watered even more and drool dripped off my chin, but I didn’t care. I had a fat cock in my mouth, and I was in fucking heaven. And the best thing was that I didn’t have to do anything except open my mouth, relax my throat, and let Ocean use me.
Why did this feel so good? It had never made sense to me. On the surface, it seemed demeaning to be used like this, maybe even a little humiliating and degrading. It was the kind of stuff I encountered a lot in porn, but that seemed a little too out there for real life. Except I lived for this.
Even now, while Ocean was fucking my mouth, a strange mental peace came over me. Like nothing else mattered but this. Like I didn’t have to worry about anything and could let it all go for a few minutes. Like I didn’t matter, yet I was fulfilling some kind of purpose, pleasing someone else. And all that time, my own body reacted, my cock as hard as if I were the one receiving instead of giving.
“Almost there,” Ocean panted. “So fucking close.”
I wanted to taste him, so he’d better not deprive me of that.
Ocean’s hand tightened in my hair, the grip borderline painful. He stayed shallow now, and I hollowed my cheeks, providing as much suction as possible.
He jerked, then cried out as he shot his load into my mouth. I swallowed eagerly, barely fast enough for the second spurt that erupted from his cock. After that, a few drops came, and I licked those up too, carefully cleaning him.
Our eyes met when my tongue circled his tip. His widened. Shit, should I stop? But he felt so good in my mouth. My throat hurt a bit, but suckling him made it better.
Ocean withdrew, and I swallowed back the sound of protest. He turned on his side, then gestured at me to position myself between his legs. I frowned in confusion. What was he trying to do?
“It’s more comfortable for both of us,” he said, and then I understood. My cheeks heated. Would he think me weird for liking this?
But before I could get all in my head about it, Ocean curled his hand around my neck and pulled me down. Grateful I didn’t have to look at him, I went with it. When he nudged my face into his groin, I sighed, opened my mouth, and suckled his soft cock. I closed my eyes, and the tension seeped from my body like I had melted against him.
Ocean put his hand on my head. “Good,” he said, his voice somehow deeper than usual. “You’re so good.”
He must’ve misspoken. Surely he’d meant to say it felt good, right? But I didn’t care. My insides lit up like a bonfire, a celebration of something new and momentous. I was good, and everything was well now.