31 Cutter #2
“Look, everything doesn’t have to be a forever deal,” Daryl says. “I know you. You tend to view everything as an all or nothing proposition. Maybe just let this thing breathe. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. If not, you’ll have some fun.”
Can I do that? Am I built that way? Experience tells me I’m not, but maybe it’s time I learned to relax. To stop being, as Aubie called it, a dick.
? ? ?
I squeeze the steering wheel while concentrating on my breathing. In and out. Nice and slow, just like the meditation video instructed.
Aubie probably knows I’m here by now and is wondering what I’m doing sitting in my truck in his driveway, but I can’t go in there while my heart is fluttering like a teenager. It’s only been a day since I saw him. How did he become so necessary to my well-being in such a short amount of time?
Enough stalling. I climb out of the truck and shuffle up the walk to the front door, but before I can knock, it swings open to reveal a scantily-clad Aubie looking good enough to eat.
We stare at each other for an agonizing minute, my eyes wandering hungrily over his body.
A white corset is laced up his chest, partially hidden by a flowing sheer black negligee.
Tight satin pants hug his hips and leave nothing to the imagination.
The outline of his cock reveals he’s at least partially hard. My mouth waters.
“Thought you were getting cold feet again,” he quips, but I see that hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Does he feel it too?
Before I can reply, his hand shoots out and grips my neck, dragging me close enough to seal our lips in a frantic kiss.
For the first time in twenty-four hours, I feel like I can exhale.
We manage to make it inside and get the door closed without breaking the kiss, but that’s as far as we get before he starts clawing at my clothes.
My jacket hits the floor, followed quickly by my shirt, but when I start to finger the ties of the damn corset binding his skin away from me, he slaps my hand away and dances out of my reach.
“Uh uh. That’s part of your surprise.”
I feel like someone threw cold water in my face. The only word I can form is “what?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
He turns and struts across the foyer to his livingroom, throwing a flirty glance over his shoulder to make sure I’m following. Like I could resist. He’s like a debaucherous pied piper luring me to his lair.
The first thing I notice when I enter the room is the music. It surrounds us, as though it’s coming from the walls. I don’t recognize the song, but it’s got the sexy grinding beat he usually dances to.
Then there’s the candles. They’re everywhere–on the tables, on the mantle, in glass lanterns hanging on the walls, lending an intimacy to the spacious room. The couch is a bedlam of throws and pillows, the oversized ottoman shoved up against it so it’s like a huge bed.
Aubie points to it and orders me to sit. I’d rather go back to kissing him, but I do as he says and sink into the luxurious bedding.
“I promised you a private show,” he purrs in his most seductive voice, then adds with a playful wink, “You should probably loosen your pants.”
And then he starts to dance. All those seductive moves he usually pulls off on stage he’s making mere feet in front of me. His hands caress his taut body as he writhes and twirls across the floor while the wispy negligee flows around him like smoke.
I fist the cover beneath me and bite my lip.
He brings his fingers up to the laces of the corset, his eyes locked with mine, his brow quirked as thought to ask me if he should do it. I swallow and nod enthusiastically.
He loosens the top eyelet then abandons the cord to run his hands up his body, clasping them above his head while his hips continue to rotate.
“Fuck,” I moan, wishing I had taken his advice about my pants.
He snickers then peels the negligee off his shoulders and lets it drift to the floor.
“Better?” he teases.
Slightly.
The music is relentless, drilling against the nerves in my cock with every downbeat. He thrusts his hips to the rhythm while working his way down the laces of the corset. Taking his time pulling them out.
One at a time.
Torturing me.
When it’s finally opened, he takes forever to slip it off until I feel like I’m going to explode. Once it’s gone, he twirls again to give me full view of his chest and back and that damned tattoo. My dick thickens painfully.
“Want to see my…cock?” The sly smirk is back as he tugs at the waistband of his pants.
“Yes,” I croak.
The pants inch down, revealing his delicious V. And that’s where he stops, grabbing his crotch with one hand while the other slides up his chest. He sucks the tips of his fingers into his mouth and moans. “Oh Cutter. It’s so…hard.”
Christ, I’m going to lose my mind.
“I think it’s leaking,” he whimpers as his hand slips inside his pants.
I’ve always thought of myself as a patient man. After all, I used to outwait hitters in the box. But this…I have all I can do not to throw him over my shoulder and drag him back to my cave.
He dances closer to me, his hips undulating to the beat while his thumbs hook in his waistband and ever so slowly drag his pants down. I hold my breath until his cock appears, but before I can touch it, he dances away with a waggle of his finger.
“Naughty, naughty.”
“You’re driving me crazy,” I growl.
That earns me another filthy smirk. “Just the way I like you. Tell me, Cutter…” He wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking it from root to tip while his eyes continue to watch me. “What would you do with my…hard…aching…cock…if you could touch it?”
“Fuck. I want…” I hesitate. Is this really what I want? I bite my lip and imagine having him in my mouth. The taste. The feel.
Yes, I realize. That’s exactly what I want.
“I want to suck it.”
Aubie’s grin turns downright sinful. “Baby you just said the magic words.”
He slinks over to me and lowers himself onto my lap, still grinding his ass to the music. His fingers walk up my chest to pinch my nipples while he leans closer to drag his tongue over my lips.
“I am.” He kisses me, his tongue teasing mine. “Completely.” Another kiss, more tongue. “At your.” Deep kiss. “Mercy.”
My hands encircle him to grab the globes of his perfect ass and shove him down hard on my cock.
“Which is it, baby?” he breathes against my ear. “My ass or my cock?” He wiggles against me, causing my already stiff cock to throb. “Or do you feel greedy?”
“All of the above,” I growl as I capture his lips with mine.
His tongue is mesmerizing, dancing inside my mouth and shoving itself down my throat. We kiss until I’m sure I’m going to self-combust, and then he pulls away and maneuvers himself off me, flipping around to sprawl on his back, his legs open to me.
There’s something absolutely decadent about him lying there. When I tell him that, he grins and sucks a finger into his mouth, swirling it around before bringing it out to reach down and slowly probe his ass.
“This is waiting for you after you suck my cock.”
Fuck. He’s killing me.
I get on my knees on the couch and crawl up his body, my arms bracketing him, my cock resting against his. The feeling distracts me for a minute as I grind against him, chasing friction, but I need more. Always more.
I lean down and press my lips to his, drinking him in before trailing kisses down his chin to his chest. I stop at both nipples, licking and sucking them into hard knots, before inching down his abdomen.
He stretches beneath me like a big cat, arching up to meet my mouth in perfect syncopation to the music, and part of me wonders if he isn’t still performing.
As long as it’s a performance only for me.
I give his cock a tentative pass with my tongue with the intent of teasing him, but when the salty burst from his precum zings across my tastebuds, I’m a lost cause.
Just like that, I can’t get enough. I close my lips around his head and lap at his slit again, probing for more.
It’s not at all like I pictured giving head would be.
His velvety cock feels warm and heavy in my mouth and my head is swimming with the spicy musk of his scent.
I wrap one hand around his base and follow my strokes with my mouth, drawing him all the way out before sucking him back to my throat again.
Starting slow but gradually picking up the pace.
When I flick my tongue up and down the underside of his cock, concentrating on the area just below his head because I know I’m sensitive there, he bucks against me.
“Fuck baby, that feels so goooood.”
Guess I’m doing something right. I look up and meet his sultry gaze.
He looks like an erotic fantasy splayed out beneath me, his lithe body squirming, his hair bed mussed, his pink tongue peeking between swollen lips.
His hands close around my head, fisting my hair between his fingers as he guides my mouth up and down. As if I need any encouragement.
“Your mouth was made for sucking my cock,” he moans.
When I hum my approval, he groans and thrusts up into my mouth. I run my free hand down his hip and around to cup his balls.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps. “Yes, just like that.”
I smile to myself. Maybe I’m not too terrible at this.
I roll his balls in my hand while my mouth fucks his cock, hollowing my cheeks to suck him harder.
Drawing out every stroke. His grip on my hair is almost painful, but I’m too lost in the moment to care.
I want to watch his face when he comes. I want to hear his filthy moans, feel his heart pounding and know I caused that.
“Jesus fuck, baby, I’m close.”
I double my efforts, sucking harder until I feel him tense, his skin pebbling, his eyes rolling back in his head. He thrusts against me and stiffens, then my mouth is flooded with his hot cum.