Chapter 5 #3
He huffs a laugh and then nibbles on my skin. It’s so sensual. Everything about him is. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t look away all those weeks ago at that party. Something about him just oozes it.
I bet some of that is venom, poisonous and toxic, and yet, I don’t move. I just let him continue.
“Why do you think I like your cock so much?”
I don’t answer, just let him run his finger across my leaking slit.
“You think we’re gay?” he adds, his lips moving against the skin of my neck.
“Dunno.”
“I don’t either. But after that night on the forest floor…”
“We don’t need to talk about it.”
“I think we do.”
“We fucking don’t.”
I try to move away from him, but he holds on to me tightly. And I give in. Just give the fuck in.
“You know, I saw you watching me that night. Your eyes never left me.”
“I was grossed out watching you make out with everyone.”
He laughs and then tilts my head enough to press his lips to mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and he licks every corner of me, making a point.
When he pulls away, I’m slightly dazed, and his eyes are twinkling.
“I’m a good kisser.”
“Fuck off,” I rasp and then lean forward and kiss him roughly. It surprises him, a grunt leaving his mouth. But he meets the thrust of my tongue with one of his own until we’re panting, our moans leaving us in long-winded breaths.
He manages to maneuver me onto my back somehow, and he ends up on top of me, grinding down once more. How I find myself under him again is something I can’t quite contemplate at the moment. It’s just something that happens, apparently.
His lips leave mine, and he stares down at me with those bright eyes, those pink cheeks.
Then he kisses the tip of my nose and lets his lips trail down my body, across my collarbone and pecs, down my abdomen, and finally to my groin. He runs his nose up my hip, inhaling me before his lips settle against the side of my cock.
I lean up onto my elbows to watch him. I have to watch. And what I see makes me nearly come right then.
He’s staring at my dick like he wants to consume it, like he wants to try this.
He should. It would only be fair.
His eyes flash up to mine, almost like he can read my mind, and his lips quirk.
“Say please, Witkoff, and I’ll put it in my mouth.”
I purse my lips and glower at him.
That makes him smile a little wider, kissing the head of my cock and making it jerk.
“You can say it a little mean, if you want. Just say it. I want to hear you beg.”
“Maybe I should tell you to beg to suck my dick.”
His eyebrow rises. “Maybe you should. Maybe we should say it at the same time.”
My tongue peeks out and wets my lips, and they part slightly.
“Let’s do it on the count of three.”
He counts down slowly, each number punctuated by a lick of his tongue against my hard length. I end up saying please first, and the loudest.
I don’t even know if he begs, can’t hear it because he lowers his mouth onto me and sucks.
All the blood rushes to my ears, and I hear static, my heart thumping loudly.
I can feel his teeth on me, his tongue and spit.
I can feel how warm he is, the vibrations of his moans as he hollows out his cheeks and sinks down further.
I’m trying to keep myself upright, but it’s hard, my fingers grappling for something to hold on to. They land on his head, mine falling back against the pillow, my mouth open in a surprised gasp.
He has no idea what he’s doing. I’ve had more skilled blow jobs, but his enthusiasm is doing me in. He’s gagging and sputtering, but he doesn’t let up. He just continues to suck, hard and recklessly, his molars sliding painfully against my dick as he bobs his head. But I love it. I fucking love it.
I grab on to him tighter and shove him down roughly. He groans, and I do it again. And again, using him as a fuck toy, his mouth an object for my release.
My eyes open and close as I try to stay in the present, to not drift off to a different place and time. A time when I didn’t have a man sucking my dick. But here I am, nearly combusting from the feel of his mouth around me.
I feel his spit dripping down my balls to my taint, and then the light pressure of a fingertip against my hole. And that’s all that I need to come. I arch up, holding him against me, his nose pressed into my pubic hair as I thrust down his throat, emptying right into his stomach.
It goes on for years, a millennium. And when I finally let him go, he sits up, his cheeks red, his eyes wet. He swipes at his mouth and then dives onto my face, his tongue pushing into my mouth.
“Knew you’d come when I had my finger on your asshole.”
His voice is rough, ruined. I did that.
I should feel shame for how rough I was, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just continues to kiss me, rubbing himself against me until his cock pulses against my skin, his release coating my stomach.
“I liked that. More than I thought I would. Was it good for you?”
He peers down at me, and I am momentarily stunned. Something in those eyes is vulnerable. He wants me to like it. I could proclaim that I hate it, that I hate him, but instead, I just shrug.
“Yeah, it was good.”
His lips twitch, and he falls to my side, stretching out, taking up the entire bed as he does before sitting up.
“Right. I know you liked it, Witkoff. I’ll get my deep-throating skills up to par. Some more practice is needed, I think.”
I just blink at him in confusion. He’s going to practice? With who?
“And before you get your panties all twisted—I see that little line in your forehead—I’ll be practicing on you. Don’t care much about anyone else’s dick but yours.”
He winks at me and then slides off the bed, searching for his clothes.
“I have to run. I didn’t mean to stay so long, but you distracted me.” His eyes drift up my naked body, and he gives a full-body shiver. “Yeah, you’re fucking distracting.”
He tugs his pants on, and I watch as he disappears from view, one bit of fabric at a time.
“See you soon?” I can’t help but ask, and he grins at me, pulling his shirt on.
“Yeah. I’ll see you soon. If you ask nicely.”
Then he walks over to me and leans down, giving me a filthy kiss before pulling away once more and striding out of the room.