Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
ANDRéS
I slow the kiss down, the visceral urge to take more from Simon after the high of my orgasm waning.
I’ve never experienced a blow job as good as that.
Even thinking about it is causing my spent cock to perk up again.
It was incredible. I take my time breaking off the kiss, but now I’ve felt his soft full lips, I want more of them.
I finally break contact and Simon steps back.
He picks up his drink and drains it, then he gives me the brightest smile, one that flips my stomach and lifts my heart.
Kicking off my jeans and boxers and pulling my T-shirt over my head, I remember his request to be wrecked; I’m gonna do that.
My dick might need a few minutes to recover but I can have plenty of fun taking my time prepping him.
I grab his arse and pick him up, ignoring his surprised squeal as I walk him to the bed and drop him down on his back. He laughs as I strip his trousers and underpants off him.
I return to the bar and pour the last of the champagne out, then I place the glasses next to the bed and find lube and condoms.
I straddle his hips and sit over him. He looks up at me, his eyes swirling with lust. He bites his lip in anticipation and I give him a lazy smile.
I lick my thumbs and rub them over his nipples, teasing them to harden them before taking the nubs and pulling gently until he gasps a little.
I tug harder and he lifts off the bed, moaning.
I lean down and lick them, soothing the hurt away, and he relaxes with a smile.
A bead of precum forms on his dick and I want to taste it.
I dip two fingers in my drink and swirl them round his tip, mixing the champagne with the sticky substance before putting them in my mouth.
“That’s fucking hot,” Simon says, his eyes on my mouth.
“Do you know what’s hotter?” I ask but don’t wait for an answer.
I repeat mixing the fizz with his precum, which is leaking in strings now, and offer my fingers to him instead.
He sucks on them, keeping eye contact all the while.
It definitely is hotter. I do it a third time, but this time I chase my fingers with my lips, tasting him from his own mouth.
The low moan he gives against my mouth travels south, and my cock starts filling again.
Never mind taking a long time, I want to be inside him soon, and I need to prep him.
I scoot backwards and flip him over. I run my hand over his arse, his perfectly shaped peach.
“Did you know you have a beauty spot right here?” I ask, tracing over his little mole.
“I’m not sure you can call them beauty spots on your arse,” he replies, raising himself on his elbows and peering over his shoulder.
“On an arse as beautiful as this you definitely can,” I say and pick up my glass.
I dribble a few drops of champagne over his beauty spot and lick them off.
I add more, letting it pool in the top of his crease before I lap it up.
I pull his cheeks apart with one hand and pour more, watching as it trickles down his crack and over his pucker.
I lick him, enjoying how he moans every time my tongue connects with his hole.
“What I wouldn’t eat off this arse,” I say, pushing the tip of a champagne coated finger into him so I can delve in and lick it out.
“Are you issuing a challenge or making a list?” he asks with a breathless giggle, pushing back so I can go deeper. Champagne isn’t any sort of lube but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Both,” I say, shoving my finger further into him, my mind whirling with the possibilities of what I could feast on him with.
Opening him up with another finger, I pour as much as I can onto him and then drink it all off.
I’d love to fill him up and then suck it back out, but even exclusive hotel suites don’t come with that sort of equipment.
I flip him onto his back again and reach for the lube.
He giggles as he notices. “Surely some foods make suitable lube,” he says, raising his knees up.
“You’re the chef; you tell me,” I reply as I flip the tube open and squirt some onto my fingers.
“Well, obviously there’s butter, but it’s messy. Olive oil has been used for centuries. Coconut oil is good, easy and not too messy.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“I’m a chef.” He shrugs and smirks. “But basically anything oil based is going to do it.”
“Anything we can get from room service at one a.m.?”
“Not without raising a few questions and being the subject of much gossip in the kitchen tomorrow.”
“We’ll have to make do with plain old lube, then,” I say, and slip my fingers into him as he giggles again.
Due to the work of my tongue and fingers before, it doesn’t take long to get him ready.
I curl them and graze over his prostate a few times, enjoying the sound of his moans.
Unable to wait any longer, I withdraw my fingers, and I enjoy seeing his cute little frown of displeasure at the loss.
I tear open the condom packet and sheath myself, adding another coating of lube.
“Ready to be wrecked?” I ask, and he nods with a grin.
I line up with his entrance and push his knees up to his chest. I don’t even wait for him to take a breath before I slam into him, bottoming out in one go.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Unnngh,” he utters, but the smile on his face doesn’t slip.
I raise up and slam into him, over and over.
I lift his legs onto my shoulders, needing to go deeper, and he throws his head back and moans loudly every time I sink right into him.
With each stroke, I pull almost out and then thrust in harder, deeper.
He grabs for my hands, interlacing our fingers as he holds on—an anchor, as I fuck into him, each time bending him further and ramming him harder into the mattress.
Sweat pours off me and drips onto his already glistening body as we become one, melding together, just a fury of grunts and connecting flesh.
My orgasm hits me like a train, pushing me over a cliff, and I come hard.
Everything in my body, heart, and mind free falls into space with no hope of return.
Awareness slowly seeps back into me as I feel Simon judder beneath me and cum spurts over his chest. I peel off him slowly and he unfolds, wincing slightly.
“Okay?” I whisper, and he nods and uncurls further.
“Never mind not being able to sit down, I don’t think I can stand up,” he says, stretching a little.
“Hold on.” I push off the bed and walk through to the bathroom to turn on the shower.
I go back to the bed and pick Simon up, then I carry him through to the shower and he slowly puts his feet on the floor.
I shut the door and he leans against me for support.
As the hot water washes over us both, I put my arms around him, holding him while he rests his forehead on my shoulder.
I’ve fucked up, breaking all my rules, but I know, for him, I’d do it all again in an instant.