Milo #4
The man looked good in whatever he wore, but there was no denying he looked even better when he wasn’t wearing anything.
His dick, no longer soft and curled against his thigh, was thickened and resting against his hip.
I ran my fingers up and down it, careful to avoid touching his balls, which I had accidentally learned were extremely ticklish and not to be messed with until he was good and worked up.
I couldn’t help but lean over as I stroked him gently and lay a kiss on his leg.
If there was one thing I was even less tired of doing than touching him, it was kissing him, and I wasn’t picky about where I put my lips either.
I could smell the ‘sport’ wash he had used, and the strength of the scent on his skin told me he had probably taken a shower shortly after I’d left.
How little he responded to my touch told me he had probably been asleep about half an hour, enough that he wasn’t near waking up.
He was quickly growing hard, though, and while I wanted to attribute that to me touching him, I wasn’t delusional.
His body was just responding to being touched in a pleasurable way.
Of course, there was a possibility that some deep-down part of him was aware it was me touching him, and that was what was making him get hard so quickly, but.
..well, that was wishful thinking to the point of fooling myself.
That was fine; there was plenty of comfort in knowing that if he were awake, his body would be just as responsive.
All those years of aching and yearning had finally come to something good.
I was struck then, not by simple and playful lust like before, but by a need to have him.
I was his already, and he was mine, but I needed to have him.
I needed to feel him inside me, or me inside him.
I needed to hear his gasps of pleasure and those little growls he let loose whenever I found just the right spot at just the right time to make him wonder if he was going to come on the spot.
I needed to feel the sense of safety and security that came with being with him, romantically, but right then, I needed to have the most immediate and visceral reminder of what we had.
With any other person, I would have stopped and backed off, reminding myself that I needed to ensure that sort of play was agreed upon.
Except it wasn’t just any other person; it was Eli.
A man who trusted me completely, and I trusted just as much in turn.
I knew him, something I held with more confidence than I would have in claiming to know myself.
When he woke up and saw what I was doing, he would either go with it or stop me, but he would never simply let me do what I wanted out of worry that to deny me would hurt what we had, and he wouldn’t lose his temper either.
He was too freshly clean for any real taste when I took him in my mouth.
There was, however, the comforting weight of his cock on my tongue as I eased forward, careful to make sure to lube every part of his dick I could reach to make the process smooth.
I knew he was damn hard when I felt the pulse of his heartbeat twitch through the shaft, and it was followed by the not unpleasant taste of him suddenly leaking onto my tongue.
A soft noise escaped me as I slid back and forth, wanting so badly to grip him and start sucking him off on the spot.
I held back, though, savoring the moment and reminding myself I would have to wake him up if he didn’t do so on his own.
I was willing to push things further with him than with others, but that didn’t mean I was willing to charge off toward the finish line without him being conscious to agree or disagree.
So instead, I restrained the wild urge to feel him pulsing deep in my throat, even while asleep.
Instead, I took my time, grabbing the base of his dick and pulling my mouth off to gently suck on the bottom of the head and almost laughing when I saw that sleeping Eli was a lot like awake Eli because Lord, that man’s toes twitched like they wanted to curl from that little trick.
I ran my tongue over the tip, tasting him again and hoping I never grew tired of it, tired of making him feel good, tired of the taste, smell, and feel of him in and on whatever part of my body I could.
A desperate, antsy noise left me, and I comforted myself by taking him between my lips once more and sucking him down.
I went as far as I dared before I reached the point that would cause me to gag and possibly retch, which I always ended up doing.
I held myself in place, feeling him in my throat before the muscles twitched and flexed in protest before easing back to run my tongue back and forth on the underside of the head.
His legs spread, one dropping to the floor, and thankfully, that was all the warning I needed not to flinch when his hand came to rest on the back of my head.
My eyes did jerk up to him, his eyes half-lidded with the sleep I had woken him from.
His bottom lip sucked partially into his mouth as he stared down at me with an intensity I didn’t usually see from him just after waking up.
“If this is the way you’re going to wake me up from now on, you’re not going to hear any complaints,” he said in a voice that I knew was rough from sleep, but damned the gravelly sound shot straight to my already aching dick.
“Did you know I get off on being woken up like this, or did you just decide to molest me and hope for the best?”
The molesting joke didn’t sting like it might have a couple of weeks ago, and I pulled off with a soft laugh. “The second, but it’s good to know you’re into it. Means I don’t have to sit around and tell myself I’m not crossing a line and that I was right to believe this would be okay.”
“More than okay,” he said, spreading his legs further and shifting closer to the back of the couch so his body was angled more toward me. “And if you ever get tempted to try something a little more, be my guest.”
“I can’t tell if you’re asking me to try fucking you in your sleep, or putting your dick inside me.”
“Mmm, I don’t have the same nifty little trick of relaxing like you, so we might want to try the second thing first.”
Which was when I realized he’d said he liked it when someone did it.
That, of course, meant someone else had done it before, and I could take a good guess who that someone had been.
We had never really gotten onto the subject of previous partners.
I avoided it because the idea made my stomach twist in knots, making me want to start throwing things.
I didn’t know why he felt the need to avoid the subject.
Part of me wanted to think he felt the same way I did, but mostly I believed he sensed it was a topic I wasn’t ready to discuss and was politely avoiding it.
The ache from before was creeping back in, finding an inroad through the jealousy that flared up inside me.
I had no right to be jealous that he’d had partners before me, and not just because he had been straight as far as we’d known until recently.
It was the fact that he was a grown man, and he was damn well allowed to have been with other people because I didn’t have total and complete claim over him.
Except that was a rational thought, and I wasn’t always prone to being rational, especially now on the heels of being overrun by my insecurities and worries.
I didn’t want to think about him being with another person, any more than I wanted to think about people I had been with.
All I wanted was to have him, and for him to have me, to leave the rest of the world out of our apartment so it was just the two of us.
Something primal, almost feral, was rising inside me, and I needed to rid myself of it. The problem was, we had already begun the process that should have been enough to calm the new, uncomfortable creature growing in my head. Except...it wasn’t enough. I needed more.
“Oh, holy shit,” he groaned when I wrapped my hand back around the base of his cock and sucked him down deep again. “Oh fuck , hello.”
I had never lacked enthusiasm when giving him head, but it was something else entirely. I needed to feel him in my mouth, to feel the weight of him on my tongue, to feel him feeling my throat, throbbing against my tongue and my palm.
I watched his back arch as I sucked him down greedily, desperate to hear the moans spilling out of his throat.
Desperation and hunger were leading the charge of my next moves, and I took a moment to wet a finger, finding his hole and pushing it into him to draw a new, almost desperate noise from him as well.
It grew in intensity when I got my finger all the way in and curled it upward, finding the familiar part that made his body stiffen and pulled another groan from him.
The focus filling my mind was unlike anything I remembered.
I had been seeking to exist purely in the moment, and I was doing it in a way I never thought possible.
All that existed was him, what I was doing to him, and what I wanted to do to him.
That he was helpless as I used my finger to rub his insides, knowingly driving more pleasure through him as I continued to use my other hand to cooperate with my mouth.
“Fucking hell ,” he swore again with a gasp. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but holy shit, keep going like that and I’m going to lose my mind.”
I pulled my mouth free, replacing it with my hand and slowing my strokes down, and the prodding of my finger inside him. “Nothing’s got into me, but I know what I want to get into you.”
His eyes widened. “Goddamn, you’re feeling?—”