Chapter 6 Cider Sparks #5
A deep growl worked up from my chest, hands digging into those thick, silver-dusted thighs, spreading them wide.
His ass jutted up, strong and hairy, the heat of him radiating, the curve begging for worship.
I dragged my hands up his calves, tracing the muscles, then up the back of his knees, over the tension of his hamstrings.
My palms cupped his ass, squeezing hard, spreading him so wide the dark, wild fur at the center made my cock twitch.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I groaned, voice rough with awe and want. “You smell like sweat and need. Can’t wait to taste it all.”
My tongue darted out, flattening against the base of his spine, dragging down over the rise of his ass, catching sweat and the sharp tang of clean male musk.
Hair tickled my lips, rough against my face, and I dove in, burying my nose and tongue deep, inhaling the scent of him.
Every taste was rich—salt, skin, the primal bite of a man who’d never been afraid to get dirty.
Hands spread his cheeks wider, exposing his hole, the rim hairy and soft, pink peeking out beneath the dark fur.
I groaned, letting my spit drip over the entrance, watching it glisten, hungry to taste and claim.
The flat of my tongue traced the cleft, lapping up sweat, then circled his hole, teasing, coaxing it to loosen for me.
A shudder ripped through his frame, hips grinding back for more, the need in his body so strong it vibrated through the bed.
My lips sealed over his hole, sucking, tongue pushing in, fucking him with slow, greedy strokes.
The hair against my nose made my own cock throb, the scent and taste of him, raw and unfiltered, feeding something wild inside me.
“Can’t get enough of you,” I muttered, voice muffled against his ass. “Want you messy, want you dripping for me.”
Two fingers slicked with spit pressed in alongside my tongue, stretching him, curling to find that spot that made his whole body jolt. A filthy sound echoed off the walls—half-moan, half-growl—his cock dangling heavy, leaking clear and thick onto the sheets below.
“Gonna open you up, Richard,” I promised, pushing deeper, scissoring my fingers, my tongue laving and teasing the rim, never letting up. “Gonna fuck you on my tongue until you’re sobbing.”
He was a mess already, legs shaking, hands fisting the sheets, body arched and begging. I pressed a third finger in, spreading him wide, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin as I worked him open. The hair caught my spit, got slick and matted, but I loved it, wanted it—wanted to be marked by it.
Moving closer, chest pressed to the backs of his thighs, I bent low and sucked his cock from beneath, tongue circling the leaking head, slurping up every drop of precome as my fingers kept working his hole.
His body tensed, the sound of my mouth on his cock wet and obscene, balls bouncing against my chin as I sucked him from behind.
Every thrust of my fingers made him jolt, made his cock spurt another bead of precome.
I tongued the slit, savoring the taste, then licked a stripe up the thick shaft, dragging my teeth along the underside.
My free hand kneaded his ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise, keeping him spread and open, forcing him to feel everything.
The sight of him—big, hairy, muscled, ruined on his hands and knees, gasping for breath, hips rolling to meet every thrust of my fingers and tongue—made my own need spike, savage and sweet.
“Bet no one’s ever eaten you like this,” I taunted, voice hoarse, tongue pressing back in, fingers stretching, twisting, loving the way he moaned for it. “Bet no one’s ever made you beg just to get fucked with their mouth.”
His head dropped, voice barely a rasp. “Never. Fuck, Derek, never—don’t stop, please don’t stop—”
The pleasure in his words went straight to my cock. I gave him everything—tongue fucking his hole, fingers spreading him wide, mouth sucking his cock from behind, devouring every drop, every whimper, every filthy plea.
“Good boy,” I praised, voice rough silk. “Take it all. Take everything I give you. Want you leaking, want you sobbing, want you to remember this every time you sit down.”
Sweat dripped down my face, mixing with his, marking us both with the scent of want and surrender.
My free hand ran up his spine, nails scratching, then back down, caressing the curve of his ass, the wild hair matted and wet with spit.
I pushed my tongue deep, pressing my face in, licking up every drop, every taste.
Richard’s whole body shook, cock bouncing, leaking onto the sheets, balls drawn tight and heavy, ready to burst. My fingers pressed deeper, thumb rubbing his perineum, tongue circling, never stopping, never letting him come down.
Breathless and trembling, I collapsed onto my back, sweat-soaked sheets sticking to my skin, hair damp and wild against the pillow.
My hands found Richard, pulling him down beside me, hunger still thrumming in my veins.
Our bodies met in a tangle—his chest rough against mine, thigh sliding over my hip, mouths crashing together in a savage, spit-slick kiss.
Tongues tangled, teeth clashed, both of us greedy for more.
His beard scratched at my jaw, wet with sweat and spit and the mess of everything we’d done.
My hands mapped his back, palms gliding over the ridges of muscle, fingertips digging into his shoulders, needing to claim him even as I surrendered control.
The taste of him was everywhere—salt, skin, the lingering bite of his scent, primal and raw.
Richard pressed me deeper into the mattress, pinning me down with the weight of his body.
Those rough palms roamed over my chest, worshipping every inch—thumbs stroking my nipples until they ached, mouth following, sucking one between his lips, teeth grazing, tongue swirling, making me gasp and writhe beneath him.
A growl rumbled from deep in his chest, pure want.
His hands moved lower, kneading the meat of my thighs, spreading me wide.
Lips dragged down the hard lines of my torso, nipping and licking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
His teeth found the jut of my hip bone, biting hard enough to make me gasp, then soothing with a kiss, the pain and pleasure blurring together.
One big hand wrapped around my cock, thick fingers stroking from base to tip, twisting, milking a bead of slick from the swollen crown. My hips bucked, chasing his grip, need turning to something wild and desperate.
“Jesus, Richard, don’t tease,” I gasped, voice ragged.
A wicked glint sparked in his eyes as he looked up at me, face shining with sweat and lust. “You want it? Want to be worshipped? After the way you used me?”
Desire crackled between us—taunt and promise both. “Fuck yes. Show me.”
Richard’s mouth latched onto my cock, swallowing me deep in one smooth motion, the heat and suction making me curse, hips jerking up.
His tongue worked the underside, slow and deliberate, savoring every vein, every twitch.
Wet, greedy sounds filled the room as he bobbed his head, throat flexing, beard scraping my stomach.
He didn’t let up—hand squeezing the base, twisting, mouth sliding down until his nose pressed to my belly, taking me to the root, holding me there until my vision blurred.
Spit dripped down my shaft, pooling at my balls, slick and obscene.
Every time I tried to pull away, he growled low, pushing me back, making me take every inch, every drop.
Hands roamed down my legs, spreading them wider, fingers digging into my inner thighs. His tongue flicked over my balls, sucking one into his mouth, then the other, bathing them with heat, biting lightly just to make me shudder.
He wasn’t gentle, wasn’t soft—this was hunger, the need to devour and claim. My cock throbbed, leaking more, balls aching for release. Richard gripped my thighs, pushing my knees up toward my chest, exposing everything, making me vulnerable and open.
Hot breath ghosted over my hole, anticipation making me shiver. The tip of his tongue teased the rim, circling, tasting, spit and sweat slicking the hair, making it all the filthier. He spat, letting it drip down, then pressed in, tongue fucking me, opening me up, groaning at the taste.
“God, Derek, you taste so fucking good,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Could eat you for hours.”
The words sent a bolt of heat through me, cock jumping in his grip.
He dove back in, tongue relentless, fingers spreading me, mouth sealing over my hole, sucking, licking, worshipping.
My hands fisted the sheets, body arching off the bed, lost to the sensation—every nerve lit up, every muscle burning.
Richard’s tongue fucked deep, searching, stretching me, making me sob for more. One hand pumped my cock, slow and tight, milking precome, the other teased lower, thumb pressing inside, tongue following, the stretch making me moan, needy and raw.
Every time I looked down, I saw him—shoulders broad, back flexing, head buried between my thighs, beard matted with spit, mouth devouring me like he was starving. The power in it—the reversal, the surrender—made my heart pound, blood roaring in my ears.
Legs still shaking from the aftershocks of Richard’s tongue, I dragged him up by the back of his hair, forcing our mouths together, tongues fighting for dominance, the taste of sweat and spit and cum already thick between us.
My voice, when it finally tore out of my throat, was raw command. “Lube. Now. Top drawer.”
No hesitation—he scrambled for the bottle, hands trembling with need, the cap popping off with a sharp crack. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to pour a slick line straight into my palm, the cold jelly making my cock jump, already aching for the stretch and heat of him.