Chapter 6 #2
I twist in the recliner, nosing along the seam to take in more of the scent. My cock grows impossibly harder and precum leaks from me like a fucking faucet. I even slide my shaft along the arm rest a few times, the supple leather cupping and caressing me.
God, it smells so good, the fragrance going right to my dick. It’s like the scent forms a fucking mouth around my shaft, sucking me in with greedy pulls. The imaginary suction feels oddly real, like it’s begging me to fill its imaginary throat with my very real cum.
Who am I to deny this imaginary mouth?
Tingling down the entire length of my body is the only warning I get before I’m in free fall, my pleasure making me soar so high I might never come down. A shout leaves my throat as my cock pulses, cum shooting from me in a wide arc.
My back bows off the recliner as I milk myself, spurt after spurt splashing on my belly, chest and some even hits the underside of my chin.
I’ve never had an orgasm this hard that lasts this long. It’s like I can’t stop coming, with my nose buried in the recliner’s crease. Every inhale pushes another jet from me, weaker than the last, but still a fucking geyser.
I force my nose away from the seam so I can stop coming. If I don’t, I’ll be fucking dehydrated.
With tremendous force of will, I snatch my hand from my dick, which is still twitching and leaking.
“Too much,” I mutter to the air, placing my hand over my heart, the staccato beating under my palm a little concerning.
I look down at where my hand is resting in my release, the mess thick under my palm, but I don’t care—I need to make sure the organ behind my ribs doesn’t beat too fast to push me into fucking cardiac arrest.
“Jesus fuck. The fuck was that?” I ask no one, trying to get my breathing under control. I’ve never orgasmed like that before, not even when I learned how to milk my prostate. That was great, but this experience was out of this fucking world.
I look down at my dick that’s still rock hard, ready to go for round two.
“Absolutely fucking not,” I murmur to my horned-up shaft, closing my eyes as exhaustion washes over me. “I can’t do that again. It’ll probably fucking kill me.”
Geez, my torso is a fucking mess. Cum streaked all across my front, in the small thatch of hair around my cock and on my balls. Even the recliner has jizz on it.
“Ugh,” I groan as I lower the foot rest and peel myself off the lounger so I can clean myself up. I’m glad the recliner is leather, so it’ll be easy to wipe up my mess.
Maybe it’s not such a hot idea to jerk off on that piece of furniture. Whatever scent it was emitting had my head all fucked up, pushing me over the edge of pleasure almost violently.
But it smelled so goddamn good. Like everything I’ve ever wanted a man to smell like, coupled with my favorite things in the world. It’s a scent I can never replicate but want to bottle and wear every day.
Wait, that’s a terrible idea. I can imagine walking around with a hard dick everywhere I went because I get a whiff of my recliner’s aroma. That’s not conducive to living a normal life.
I grab a washcloth and wet it, dragging it over my cum-covered body. There’s so fucking much of it. How was this much spunk trapped in my balls? They’re not very big. They can’t hold—
A pop and bright flash of light has me whirling around, droplets of water from the cloth flinging on the wall. What the hell? Was that something outside illuminating my living room? That sliding glass door is wide as fuck and—
Wait…I closed the curtains before I got in the shower and they’re black out. No way would I leave them wide open while I walked around naked. And while I was jerking off! Anyone could have seen my package.
“What the fuck?” I ask, fear clogging my throat as I try to peer around the corner. “Hello?”
Okay, this isn’t a fucking horror movie where the little gay man dies at the beginning. I’m a fucking scream king, goddamn it! I’m final man material. I have to be smarter than just rushing headlong into what could be a dangerous situation.
Now I wish I had on clothes, to at least have the barrier of those layers to protect me. I’m ass naked, my cock hanging out, and I have specks of cum still dotting my chest. I’m as embarrassed as I am scared.
Slowly, with my heart thumping triple time, I inch into the living room to see what the disturbance was.
When I round the corner, I freeze. Standing in the corner near the bookshelf is a naked man with dirty blond hair down his back.
He’s tall, way taller than me, with wide shoulders and narrow hips.
His six-pack is to fucking die for, hard and rippling, even in profile.
His legs are hairy and large, the muscles thick and prominent.
While I’m lusting after the naked stranger, my heart is still trying to leap from my chest because how the fuck did he get in my house and why doesn’t he have on any clothes?
His eyes are closed and he rolls his neck, the cracking loud in the room. He fills his chest with air and blows it out slowly before opening his eyes, a smile spread across his lips. He turns to me, his startling blue eyes locked on mine.
“Mate,” he says in a voice so deep it’s almost in hell. I sway toward him, my dick leading the way as it points directly at the stranger. His gaze drops to my erection, then flicks back up to my eyes, holding his hand out to me. “Come here, Mav.”
“Yes,” I say automatically, taking a step toward him.
Then my survival instincts kick in. Goddamn scream king!
Final man material! “Wait, no. Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my house?” I scramble for something to defend myself, but my bat is on the other side of the room, near the door.
Not a very smart place to store it, but I kept forgetting to bring it to my room.
I’m empty handed, but I’ll swing if I have to. He’s bigger than me, but I’m squirrely. I can dodge him and run outside for help.
I think.
Ass naked.
He tilts his head, looking at me curiously.
“You brought me here.” He trails his large, sexy fingers down his abdomen and swipes it through…
something that looks oddly like... “You brought me here and pulled me out of my curse.” He stuffs his fingers into his mouth, moaning in a deep rumble that makes my dick twitch. “You taste as sweet as I imagined.”
No fucking way. Is that…my cum? How did he get my…
I take in the spot where he’s standing, not seeing what should be there. Where my recliner should be is…this man…
“What…are you…?” My breathing comes out in pants as my brain refuses to believe what my eyes are showing me. But that doesn’t make sense. It’s actually fucking impossible. There’s no way…
“Yes,” the naked man answers my unasked question, walking over to me, all coiled power and grace. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to absorb this turn of events. “I’m your recliner. And you’re my mate.”
My feet unstick from the floor, and I stumble backward until I encounter the wall, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s my recliner? The man walking toward me was a piece of furniture?
No, fuck no. I’m a realist, believing what I see, but this isn’t something real. It’s…
Well, I can’t explain what it is. All I know is this man cannot be what he says he is.
“I call bullshit,” I murmur in a hard voice, not knowing what else to say.
“You can’t be—what the fuck!” I shout as the man changes, and with a pop and a flash of light, becomes my mustard yellow, comfortable as fuck recliner.
Then he changes back with a smile on his face, like he didn’t just blow my fucking mind.
Feeling dazed and lightheaded, I sway, my back against the wall the only thing keeping me upright. I swallow several times to push words up my throat. “How did…what?”
“It’s a long story,” he says casually, his tone unbothered, voice sounding like fucking silk. “But first, I need to have you. I need to feel my mate around me.”
I gulp, but don’t stop him as he steps into my space and slams his mouth down on mine.