Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Rhodes
Bennett has an exquisite dick. Lengthy. Heavy. Veiny. Pretty, pronounced head peeking out of his foreskin. Full balls.
I lick my lips and grip his hips, pulling him toward me. Not in demand, but coaxing. Giving him all the time he needs to pull away.
He doesn’t. He lets me bring him onto my lap so his knees are planted on either side of my thighs. He doesn’t sit. I keep him upright so his beautiful dick is in my face. Pointing at me invitingly.
“Can I suck your dick, Bennett?”
He shivers. I feel the way his skin raises with gooseflesh. I’ve even earned myself a bead of precum. Beautiful.
“Yes.”
I love how breathless his voice is. I could listen to that tone all day. I bet I can encourage it more right now.
With my hands tight on his hips, I bring him forward and take his dick into my mouth. All the way to the back. Since there’s only an inch or so left, I bury my face in his groin, bringing his dick down my throat.
Bennett makes the most delicious choking sound. Sexy as fuck. I swallow around him, and his hands dig into my hair as he moans. His hips rock forward, pushing him a smidgen deeper.
He’s the perfect girth. Thick but not so thick that it feels like a log in my throat. A summer sausage. The good kind.
I retreat backward, sucking his length as I pull him from my throat. His gasps are loud. His hands tighten in my hair hard enough that I twitch with how rough he’s being. It sends a thrill of arousal through me. Not many guys would dare to pull my hair, but Bennett seems to have no problem with it.
He tastes like soap and precum. I lick along his veins down to the root where I can tease his balls. His cry is loud when I suck one into my mouth. His grip on my hair is aggressively tight now. How delicious. He’s one of those men who goes wild when they have their balls sucked.
Bennett doesn’t hold back. His sexy noises fill me with excitement.
The way his hips rock forward, nearly poking my eye out with his hard dick as I suck on his balls, is a very telling meter as to how turned on he is.
Then there’s the grip he has on my hair.
I’m pretty sure the roots of my hair stretch down to my cock, and every tug makes my dick leak.
This man is going to be incredibly fun to play with this weekend. I’d thought that our nights would be filled with mediocre sex at best, while I hid behind his sunny smile when facing my classmates. I’m rethinking that plan.
His sunny smile is like a giant megawatt sun that you crave looking into, even if you have to squint because it’s so beautiful. He’s actually interesting, too. The cherry on top is his abandon during sex. I know in my gut that this is only going to get better.
Reluctantly, I give his balls a break. They’re sexy as fuck. Seriously. I imagine feeling how heavy they are in my mouth. How full. How ready he is as they twitch and jump.
But his dick is a work of art, and I need to have it down my throat again. His head feels like a probe. Smooth, blunt. The right shape to coax a small space open and make room for what follows.
I bet it’ll feel good in my ass. Please, oh please, make him vers at the very least. I bet he can make me his bitch.
The thought of it has me grabbing my cock through my pants as I suck him. Listening to how loud and excited he is. More and more. He’s shaking, trembling. Fighting his orgasm. Does that mean he wants it to last? Should I slow down? Take it slow?
Nah. Not a damn chance. I want to taste him.
I concentrate on earning every loud moan. Sharp gasp. Sweet, arousing whine until he comes with a sob while he’s buried deep down my throat.
I’ve deep-throated monster dicks before. I’d like to be generous and say I’ve deep-throated small dicks, too, but that’s counterintuitive, right? I’ve sucked enough dick to have a preference as to what exact size is perfect.
Bennett is perfect. I can choke, but I don’t gag. I can struggle for breath but not tear my throat. I can swallow his load without it even landing on my tongue, as he’s lodged deep enough past my tonsils.
I nearly lose my own load in my pants. This is the best mile-high encounter I’ve had in my life.
He drops onto my lap. Before I can clean my lips of the mess he’s made down my chin, his mouth is on mine, and his hands are fumbling with my pants. There’s little coordination as he undoes them. I think the zipper might rip.
My brain hasn’t quite caught up yet by the time he pulls my dick out and starts jerking me. I moan into his mouth. When I try to sit back and take a breath, Bennett’s free hand goes into my hair and he tugs tightly, making me gasp and keeping me in place.
Maybe he feels the way I’m almost undone when he tugs my hair. He pulls again, and my hips jerk. Yep, he’s figured it out now. He plays me like a violin with expert fingers. A perfect harmony of his hand moving over my dick and his other hand pulling my hair.
All the while keeping my mouth prisoner with his. I’m helpless to do anything but let him take me how he wants me. My muscles tense as my orgasm consumes me. I can’t breathe. He has my life in his hands as he kisses me until I’m lightheaded.
Which only adds to the intensity of my orgasm as I cry into his mouth with its release. My body jerks as he tugs my hair, sending sharp jolts of lust through my body. He’s magic. Who knew this shiny ray of sunshine could master my orgasm within minutes of getting into my pants?
He finally lets my mouth go, allowing me a much-needed breath. I’m not at all surprised when he begins running his fingers soothingly through my hair and cooing to me like I do with my pack. His lips move against my neck as he talks me through the aftermath of undoing me.
“You have such a sexy orgasm sound, Rhodes. Did you know that? I bet I can make you scream louder, though. You think I can? Are you going to let me?”
“Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” I blurt.
His teeth nip against my sensitive neck. What the hell about that makes my dick jump? “You’re going to let me have your hole, rich boy?”
I grunt, shuddering. “Yes.”
“And pull your hair, too. You like that, don’t you?”
Who knew I was such a slut for this kind of talk? I nod. “Definitely like it.”
He hums, and it’s deep. Erotic.
The captain comes over the speaker. “We are now approaching Salisbury Memorial Airport and will be beginning our descent. Arrival is approximately eleven minutes.”
“Just enough time to get cleaned up,” I say. The announcement has my brain turning back online.
“We’re almost there,” Bennett says, his excitement once more evident in his voice.
Interesting that we both seem to have a bedroom personality and then the persona we give to the world. Perhaps more interesting is that I let him see mine more fully than I have anyone in years.
Curious.
We use the full bathroom to clean up, which has Bennett excited all over again. “A working shower! On a plane?!”
There’s never a time when I forget how privileged my life is. Sometimes I forget just how privileged it is. Even among the upper class, private planes aren’t as common as you might think. Chartering private planes, yes. Owning them? Not so much.
To be clear, I don’t own this plane. It’s one of a small fleet that Van Doren Technologies owns.
One of the midsized planes and the one I’m most fond of.
It’s the perfect size for my pack without anyone being in each other’s business, but not excessively big that someone will see a single person stepping off it and guffaw like I’m compensating for something small in my pants.
I’m not small. I’m also not big. Like this plane, I’m midsized. Somewhere in between. I’m not sure if I’m what people claim is ideal or not. With as many dicks as I’ve sucked in my life, I guess I never paid much attention to what others thought about me.
I suppose that says a lot about how I regard others’ opinions of my body. Not a bad stance to have in life.
The airport we land in is small and private. The kind I always prefer to utilize. I’m less likely to have to wait for air traffic and other planes in line, nor do I tend to have to deal with an abundance of people.
There’s a small black jet there already. It’s familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I’m guessing it belongs to one of my classmates. That’s likely why it’s familiar. I’ve probably seen it here before.
Van Doren Technologies began its big boom while I was in high school. That’s when Jalon took over and began taking over the world. It was kind of mesmerizing to see how he both loudly and quietly stuck his fingers into every single industry.
He began in America before stretching into Canada and Mexico.
He continued further south into South America.
By the time I graduated from high school, he was jumping the ocean.
When I graduated from college, he wasn’t just invested in every industry, he was advancing it within our own company.
We were no longer backing these industry leaders.
We were now taking over as a leader ourselves.
I think our entire family is a little afraid of when Jalon retires.
He doesn’t just have big shoes to fill. He is a mammoth in this family.
He has made us what we are. I know none of my cousins, his sons, are eager to take over the Van Doren mantle as the boss man in charge.
It’s intimidating. The probability of failure probably feels enormous.
Following someone who’s put our name on the map, made us sovereigns in our own right, and being expected to do bigger and better things is enough to make you gray in your teens. I’ve never envied his sons. Everything about that future is intimidating.
The planes I used to arrive on were small, like the black one.
Back when I was in high school, I think Van Doren had maybe two planes.
Or perhaps they’d just acquired their first one.
Either way, there weren’t many, and therefore, taking a kid to school wasn’t a high priority for the usage of the plane.
Dad chartered private planes, though. That way, I was always brought here to the private airstrip, and as close as I could get via plane before we had to switch to a car.
VDT has come a long way. Looking at these two planes side by side reminds me of that. What I need to remind myself of now is that I am a part of that legacy. An important part. I’m not a distant relative bearing the Van Doren name.
I have stakes in the company. I have shares and responsibilities. I get my hands dirty—uh, my pack gets their teeth dirty as part of the justice served cleanup crew.
But as I walk away from the plane, old anxieties I’d long locked away begin creeping up. No one loves high school. But with every step I take toward the waiting car with Bennett at my side and my pack surrounding us, I remember that this isn’t just any high school.
It’s a private boarding school for spoiled rich kids. Kids who are used to getting away with anything without consequences.
Those walls have secrets. The woods surrounding it have secrets. Secrets I’d long since put behind me.
I remember why I swore I’d never go back.