Prologue #3
His hands are everywhere, mapping me like he means to memorize me, fingertips skimming the lines of muscle, pausing in places that make my body jolt, my heart stagger. Every brush of his skin against mine sets fire to something deeper, something I’ve never touched before.
I follow his lead, undressing and exploring his body.
We hold each other close, kissing and touching, hands everywhere, until there is nothing left between us but skin.
The sheets blur into shadows, blue-grey against the moonlight, and for a moment it feels like we’re floating, suspended above the world, weightless and untethered.
I’m not clumsy, but I feel undone–each piece of clothing peeled away is another revelation.
I kiss everywhere I dare, growing bolder as he shows me all the little places on my body that I didn’t know could feel good.
His tongue on my skin is the catalyst to my undoing, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
When his mouth finally reaches my cock, it barely takes more than a broad lick up the bottom of my shaft, and his lips closing around my tip before I’m unloading into his mouth.
I come so hard it takes a moment to register what I’ve done, and my skin grows impossibly hotter. I’m unsure how embarrassed I should be. I should have at least given him a warning.
My apology is cut off when he presses his lips to mine again. I nearly choke at the rush of arousal that jolts through me when his tongue wraps around mine, coated in slick, warm, slightly salty fluid.
“See how good you taste?” He whispers huskily, and all I can do is moan.
The heat between us grows until it’s impossible to tell where I end and he begins. His body slides against mine, smooth and warm, and the contact leaves me dizzy and weightless. Like we are suspended above the tide, caught between stars and waves, existing nowhere but in this single moment.
I’m seriously out of my mind. I’m not me, and it’s not possible that he’s real, that this is actually happening. This must be a dream.
He seems surprised when I sit up, hold him to me with one arm around his back and the other on his thigh, then flip us so I’m on top of him.
If this is a dream, I might as well make the most of it.
My mouth moves down his body, taking detours to satiate my curiosity.
I play with his nipple ring, lick the sweat from his sternum, run my nose through his armpit–twice, because for some reason, it drives me wild.
When I nip along his hip bone, his thighs open wide to allow me to trail my lips and tongue down the crease of his groin.
I bury my face in his trimmed pubic hair and groan.
Dear God, please don’t let this dream run away from me because it turns out I’m a weirdo.
I’m obsessed with the way he smells–the salt and campfire and what I can only assume is his natural musk.
I glance up to make sure he’s okay with everything I’m doing.
There isn’t enough light to make out every detail of his expression, but I can see his mouth drop open and head fall back when I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and lick him from taint to tip in one broad stroke.
“I got the impression you hadn’t been with a guy before, but–“ His voice wavers when I run my thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the bead of fluid there.
Is it normal to think someone’s dick is pretty? I’ve seen enough of them in locker rooms, and I’ve watched porn before, but this is the only one I’ve been up close and personal with. He’s as long as I am, but thinner, and circumcised where I’m uncut.
“I haven’t,” I answer him, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just going with it. You’ll need to tell me if I do something wrong or how to make you feel good.”
He chuckles, but it sounds almost pained. “I don’t really think you could go wrong, but I promise I’ll tell you.” He moans when I wrap my lips around his crown and give a gentle, tentative suck.
The moment the taste of his pre-cum hits my senses, my brain short-circuits. There’s a small part of me that wonders if this is what it’s like to take drugs. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is something I could get addicted to.
I press my tongue against his slit as my fist strokes up and down his shaft, coaxing more from him.
Then I try sucking again, and following the reaction of his abs tightening and hips twitching, I take a little more of him.
With my hand around his base, thumb gently caressing the skin where his shaft meets his balls, I experiment with taking more and more of him, suctioning my mouth on my way up and moaning whenever there’s a reward.
My gag reflex becomes an issue, but he brushes his hand over my cheek and whispers that I don’t have to take him so deep, that what I’m doing is amazing and he’s close.
“If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you might want to– Oof!“ I end up gagging myself hard in my haste to make sure he’s not going anywhere.
I want it, alright? I want it so bad.
I’m a goal-driven guy. When I really put my mind to something, I can usually work it out. Now, I’m putting all my focus on licking, sucking, and stroking him in all the ways he’s liked most, until he moans low in his throat and tenses up.
Unlike me, he gives a warning before flooding my mouth.
But, seeing as I’m lacking much experience in giving or receiving head, I’m not aware of the exact timing or just how much would come out of him.
I’d planned on sucking it down like a milkshake through a straw, but I end up coughing, forcing a good bit of it out the sides of my mouth, and a little up my nose as well.
“Shit,” he gasps, hips rocking into my fist as I continue sucking and pumping him through his orgasm, not wanting it to end. When he falls back, I get to work cleaning up my mess, because I’ll be damned if I don’t get to taste every drop.
I lap at him, cleaning every escaped remnant from his shaft, his pubic hair, his–
“Oh fuck. Did you just suck my–“ He falls back, covering his face with his hands, muttering, “This guy,” but his hips buck when I suck one ball, and then the other, into my mouth, feeling the weight of them. I work my tongue around them, making sure he’s clean.
When I pull back to inspect my work in the dim light of the moonbeam, I realize a small rivulet has made its way all the way down past his taint into new territory.
I look up while tentatively brushing my fingertips down towards my new obsession. Because not only will I cry if I can’t get that last drop, but I’m realizing there’s a lot more to explore down there, and I don’t want to leave an inch of him to my imagination.
“Is this okay?” I whisper, nearly shaking with nerves and sheer want. My fingers ghost over his crack so he knows what I’m referring to.
He moans. “You can do whatever you want.”
I look up at his face, trying to gauge his expression to see if he’s serious. He sits up and leans forward, pulling me to rise and guiding my face up to his.
“Baby, you can kiss, touch, lick, suck, or fuck any part of me you want,” he rasps before kissing me deeply. My cock doesn’t just twitch, it fucking jumps, tapping against the inside of his thigh. He grins wide against my lips. “I have a condom and a packet of lube in my wallet,” he says.
I blink rapidly, not believing that this is where the night has taken me. And to think I didn’t want to come to this party.
“There’s some in the bathroom, too,” I say roughly. I thought it was weird that they’d stocked those for the party, but damn if I don’t understand and appreciate the forethought now.
“Good,” he says. “Because I don’t think once is going to be enough.” He reaches down and palms his growing erection. “I’m already getting hard again.”
Releasing a shaky breath, because I am far past hard again already, I guide him to lay back down and take my place between his legs again. Palming the backs of his thighs, I push them up and out a bit, allowing my gaze to fall to his ass, spread open for me.
It’s too dark to see as much as I’d like, and an involuntary rumble leaves my throat. That rumble becomes a growl when my tongue finds his perfect, puckered hole. He’s so smooth down here. And so small. I have my doubts about fitting myself inside there, but I’m okay with nothing more than this.
I do exactly what he said. I touch, kiss, lick, and suck him in the one place I never in a million lifetimes would ever think I’d put my mouth. I get into it, feasting on him while my hips rut into the bed linens.
He’s gasping and moaning, whispering instructions and encouragement.
When he begs me for a finger, I drench it in as much spit as I can before pressing into him.
He’s so hot and tight inside. I work just the tip of my finger in and out, unsure of what to do.
But he reaches down and takes my hand, pushing until my finger is all the way inside him, then uses my finger to fuck himself.
I’m panting by the time he coaches me to crook my finger, guiding me to find his prostate.
“There!” he chokes out. “Right there.” I work him just the way he showed me until he’s whimpering and begging me to stop. “I don’t want to come again just yet. I’m not ready for this to be over.”
“Me either.”
“Want me to show you yours? Your prostate, I mean?”
There’s a little bit of fear and apprehension mixed in with my longing and excitement, but I swallow it down and nod. “Yeah, okay.”
The beam of light catches his smile. “Lay back, then. I’ll grab the lube.”
His fingers find my hole, and he spends a moment circling it, massaging around the ring until I relax. “You are the sexiest human being I’ve ever met in my life,” he says as he trails kisses up the inside of my thigh.