Hunter #3
I stroke him, letting my fingers wander over anywhere I can touch while I tell him how good and perfect he is so that he relaxes. My housemate had a praise kink and I wasn't afraid to capitalize on that.
“I can smell how turned on you are,” I murmured against his neck, very carefully releasing some of my pheromones.
We’re told that alphas are designed to repel other alphas, I don’t entirely believe that when Evans is moaning against me, but it’s the reason why I only let my pheromones trickle out. I don’t want to make him sick or any feel side effects.
One of my hands slides up his muscular chest and I pinch his nipple as he scrunches his eyes with a drawn out moan. “Want me to help make this feel good?”
“Please,” he whimpers.
“Wrap your hand around your cock,” I command, leaning over his shoulder so we can both watch as he follows my orders.
He takes his thick shaft in his large hand and gives himself a slow tug. Precum beads on the mushroomed, flushed tip as I release more pheromones, wrapping them around him lightly.
“That’s it,” I croon softly, letting my teeth ghost over the curve of his neck, the promise of a bite making his dick practically jump in his fist. “So perfect.”
As he shuttles his fist up his shaft, the slick noises skimming across the tiles, I keep feeding his ego. “You’re doing a great job, baby.”
I’m careful not to reach around and touch his cock, that might be what breaks him out of the lust haze he’s in.
“While you’re doing that, I’m going to work this plug out nice and slow.” I grab the small sachet of lube I always keep in my back pocket, like a prepared boy scout, and pour it onto my fingers. His rhythm falters, but I sink my teeth into his shoulder, distracting him from my words.
The moan he makes goes straight to my groin.
“I need you to focus on painting the wall with your cum.” I circle my slick fingers around his swollen hole, gently teasing the muscle. “Look at you. My beautiful slut. That’s it, Benny. Fuck your hand and milk your cock for me.”
The soft panting and mewling noises he’s making as I slowly work a finger past his rim are perfection. He was so sensitive, so responsive to my touch.
“It was so hot, knowing that you were watching us last weekend,” I whisper against the back of his neck as I try to curve my finger on the base of the toy. “I came so hard, I almost knotted.”
The admission shouldn’t be a surprise to him if he’d been paying attention, or if he’d bothered scenting my pheromones, but I imagine he was too busy panicking, feeling guilty.
“Fuck, Hunter.” He whimpers, his hand moving faster, clenching tighter. “That’s so hot.”
I grin, knowing he can’t see me. “Hmmmm, is that why you have a toy in your ass, baby? You want to know what it feels like to be stretched out and used?”
Teasing him I try to slip a second finger in alongside the first. I can’t get the right grip on the plug, instead pressing it slightly further in, which must brush up against his prostate as his dick leaks, leaving a sticky mess on the tiled floor.
“Ohhhh fuckk,” he grunts, his hips moving in a staccato motion, ass almost rocking onto my fingers.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” I can tell he’s getting close as his thighs start to tremble and his rhythm becomes erratic. With one more adjustment, I’m where I need to be. “Come for me, Benny.”
I bite into the curve of his neck, careful not to break the skin and accidentally bond him.
As my teeth clamp down, he comes with a shout, hips thrusting forward and his back arching.
It’s at that moment, I yank on the plug, pulling it free quickly and tossing it aside.
It must feel nice, as another spurt of thick cum paints the tiles.
Gently, while he teases out every last drop from his spent cock, I run my ringers around his rim, checking for any tearing.
He leans back into me, shivering and sighing as I do.
Once his balls are empty, he presses his head against the wall and I feel the shift as the desire fades. Before I can be brutally ejected or ruin our friendship again, I step away, turning my back on him to wash my hands.
I hear the soft rustle of clothes as he quickly fixes himself, and the noise of him getting paper towels to mop up the mess. The scent of sex and pheromones are stifling.
“Hunter…” I can feel him step towards me, the spicy, sweet scent of bergamot, and the heat from his body in touching distance.
“Don’t worry about it.” I say, not meeting his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “No homo, bro or whatever the fuck it is straight jock boys say.”
“What?”
Finally I turn around, “Look, we’re already late. Are you doing the class or do you want me to make up an excuse?”
He swallows, “No, I’ll do it.”
Unlocking the door, I yank it open, only for him to grab my wrist.
“Hunt, we good?” His dark eyes examine my face, almost like he’s mapping out my features and doesn’t want to miss something. I don’t know what he’s expecting to read in my expression, but he won’t find it.
Shrugging him off, I give him a smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”