Chapter 18 #3
He did as told with only a groan. His head turned so that his face pressed against the counter.
If my dick didn’t feel close to exploding, I would bury my face in that ass and feast, but it would have to wait.
I needed to fuck the boy. Pulling open the drawer behind me, I grabbed the lube, thankful I always kept some in the kitchen.
Fuck rushing off to search for a bottle.
Slowly I upended the bottle with one hand and poured the fluid into his crevice as I used the other hand to spread it around.
“Fuck! Get on with it?”
“You bitchin’? Because if you are, I can jerk off.”
“Dear God, no. Please fuck mmm…otherfucker!” he yelled as the finger I pressed against his puckered flesh popped through and slid inside him.
Leaning forward, I placed the lube bottle on the counter next to him before grabbing the condom.
The foil tore easily enough between my teeth, and I rolled it on, all while opening him up.
He hissed with the second and third fingers.
Massive I was not, but I loved rough, dirty, nasty, kinky sex, and he needed preparation to take me.
The whimpering and whining, and begging filled the space between us.
“Please, I’m ready.” Whine. “Oh, God.” Pant. “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Fuck me. Please, please fuck me.”
A drizzle of lube on my dick and a few strokes, and I pushed the tip of my cock against his hole, pressing forward so, so, so slowly. His ass sucked me in, pulling me deeper.
“F…uuuuuu…ccckk!”
I paused, teeth clenched, growling between them as I asked, “Color?”
“Green fucking green.”
I pushed in, burying myself in him until my thighs met his, and his ass cradled against my groin. “Fuck, Trey, you feel so fucking good.” I groaned, my forehead dropping to his back.
“Kiss me?”
The request came soft and low, almost vulnerable. I barely heard it under the thundering of the blood racing through my veins.
“With pleasure,” I said, threading my hand into his hair to pull him up with me as I stood.
Our mouths met, and despite the awkward angle, everything dropped away as we kissed. Trey melted into my embrace, and I, unable to hold still any longer, fucked into him. My cock plunged in and out of his hole, the hole that gripped me so tightly I wanted to lose my mind.
Forehead to temple, arms banded around him—one around his waist and another over his shoulder and around his chest—I lost myself in him.
The smell of sweat sprinkled across his brow, upper lip, and shoulders.
The taste of his skin and lips and tongue.
The sounds he made when I pegged him just right.
All those things added to the way his ass swallowed my dick.
“Slone,” he gasped, my name ghosting over my lips where our mouths still hovered together.
“What is it, baby? What do you need?”
“You. I need you…to fuck me. Hard. I’ve gotta have more.”
This kid would be the death of me. “Fuck, baby boy,” I groaned, “Put your hands on the counter.” He did, and I walked him backward until he bent over the island, his ass the perfect height. “Hold on, boy. Daddy’s gonna fuck you silly.”
The word slipped. I shouldn’t have said it, but fuck me, the boy had to have stepped out of my dreams of the perfect boy. He fit me in just the right way.
“Please, please fuck me.”
I gripped his hips, holding them in place.
I set a brutal, pounding pace. All deep, fast strokes that made Trey moan with every thrust. My filthy mouth turned dry.
Replaced with grunts on every in-stroke and a growl as I pulled out as if I were being robbed of the pleasure and utter bliss of fucking him.
The rhythm of my thrusts grew unsteady. Yet I continued. I needed him to come before me. “Come, Trey. Lemme feel you.”
He reached for his dick. If I weren’t hanging on by a thread, I would’ve smacked that hand away from touching himself. I wasn’t.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuck!”
If his words hadn’t told me he came, his ass and body definitely did.
He seized; his body clamping down. All those beautiful, glorious hockey muscles locked down.
His ass milked my cock with the spasms from his climax.
He fell forward onto the counter, his arms unbuckling, all while his cock painted the island cabinets.
Another thrust of my hips drove my cock deep, pegging his prostate. His ass clenched around me again, his walls fluttering. That was it. I was done for: cock spurting, legs quivering, lungs burning. It had been ages since I felt this damn good. This fucking satisfied.
I leaned over him, raining kisses from the base of his spine as high as I could reach. With each kiss, I praised the boy, telling him how beautiful, sexy, sweet, and seductive he was. Dabbled throughout were words of appreciation for what a good boy he’d been taking my cock.
“My head’s gonna get big if you keep that up,” he murmured, his gorgeous eyes closed, his face still lying on the counter.
“Aww, the joys of being twenty-one,” I laughed.
“Just how old are you?”
“Yeah, not answering that question when my dick is still in you.”
He laughed, pressed his palms against the island, and pressed himself, and me since I lay across his back, upright.
“C’mon, old man. I want a shower, a nap, and rounds two and three. And leftovers because damn, you can fucking cook.”
Beating his ass for calling me old man came to mind, but maybe later. For now, I wanted to shower and cuddle with my boy.