35. Jorge
Jorge
I Idolize You
O li gives a test thrust, and my toes curl. Those little digits have grown an entire new nervous system, I swear.
I’ve never had this much stimulation from sex. My hole burns a little, and I’m so fucking full I can feel his dick tickling my uvula. I’m hyper-aware of his every twitch, his breath on my lips, and the soft brush of his hair over my collarbone.
To say I’m obsessed with this is an understatement. There are no words.
“More,” I tell him, using my legs to push him deeper.
I’ve never been high before, but I imagine this is what it feels like. An altered reality, a kaleidoscope of new colors, symphonies of new sounds—everything all at once.
Thrusting into me again, he groans when my hole clenches. I didn’t even mean to do it, but it seems like my body is determined to keep his cock in me at all costs.
Oli has me out of my mind with love and lust, aching to my innermost core for all of him.
“Good?” he checks in.
I nod frantically, swiping my thumbs over his nipples and pinching them. “So good, beautiful.”
“Doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
He’s propped himself up on his elbows, resting them on either side of my head. His back lengthens and arches as he shuttles his dick in and out of me. I latch onto his collarbone, sucking and biting as carnal fucking need burns me alive. Speared on his cock, pinned to the bed, I meet him thrust for thrust. The orgasm that’s been waiting impatiently in my nuts returns with a vengeance, threatening and savage. Oli must notice because he slides onto his knees, curling me into a damn ball, and fucks into me faster.
The new angle has him nailing my prostate, his fat cockhead kissing it over and over. “ Fuuuuck ,” I cry out.
“Come for me, kitten.”
God, he’s a filthy, filthy man. I love it.
Pushing through my bent legs, he steals a kiss, wet and demanding, before he straightens and bucks his hips like a machine. I plant my feet on his chest, palm the headboard of my bed, and lose the last of my humanity. A guttural moan rips out of my throat as my hole spasms around him; my dick fires off so hard that I can feel my nuts shriveling. Cum paints my chest, my chin, and even gets in my hair.
Full body shudders ripple through me while he uses my body for his pleasure. I hold on for dear life for two more minutes until I feel the hot spray of his release coating my channel. His moans are gorgeous, satiated, and so real I reach for him immediately. I want to swallow them, gobble them up, and keep them safe inside me. Throwing my arms around his neck, I keep us connected while I kiss the life out of him. His hips rock still, soft, and almost instinctive.
“I love you,” I say between kisses. “I love you so fucking much, Oli.”
He whimpers.
Whimpers.
I kiss him harder, deeper, feeling his hair, ears, and bearded cheeks. “You are mine. My love. My novio. My babe. I feel like I’m going to explode because I love you so much.”
Oli buries his face in my throat, ignoring the cum there, and shakes in my arms. “I finally got you,” he croaks, voice raw. “I finally got you.”
“You got me beautiful. I’m yours.”
I can’t keep my hands off him—my lips neither. We are on our second shower, and it’s all sweet touches and kisses; it’s better than anything. Come tomorrow, Oli might regress, but today, I’m showing him the only way I know how that I’m in this for the long haul. I tilt my head into the shower spray so Oli can rinse the shampoo out of my hair. His long fingers massage my scalp as he does so, and I groan.
“I need to go back to my place and check the boys.”
“Shit. We are bad fathers.”
He laughs, gently guiding me closer to him now that my hair is washed. I’ll have to do my conditioner regimen. Curling his arms around me, smashing our soft cocks together, he nuzzles my cheek. “I’m scraping that motorcycle.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because I never wanted it to begin with.”
I reel back, holding his sides. “You didn’t?”
Shaking his head, he draws circles with his thumbs over my back. “I got it so I could keep myself busy. I knew it was a piece of junk when I bought it, but I have no desire to ride a bike. I’m not Damien,” he says with a cute scoff. “Truthfully, I might start playing again.”
“Guitar?”
“Mhm.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to show me what you’re working on,” I tease him.
“I’m almost ready to.”
“So, mechanic by day, guitarist by night?”
Chuckling, he bites his lip and shrugs, “We’ll see. But if I’m going to do anything with my sobriety, it might as well be something I actually want.”
“I think that’s a great idea, babe.”
“Yeah?” He blushes.
“Absolutely. Anything you want to do, I’ll be there to help make it happen.”
He searches my eyes for long seconds before asking, “How did I get so lucky?”
Cradling my arms around his neck, I smirk, “Because I’m a nosey fucker who doesn’t know when to back off.”
“You were rather insistent.” That smile. That fucking bright-eyed, beautiful smile makes my heart flutter.
“I’m nothing if not determined,” I tell him through a dopey smile. “I was gonna get you one way or another.”
“And I’ll forever thank you for it, kitten.”
I groan, grinding myself on him. “Don’t call me that while we’re naked. I’m going to want to have sex again.”
Smirking, he palms my asscheeks. “Not so soon,” he purrs. “Your little hole needs to heal first.”
“Kinky basta—” He cuts me off with a scorching hot kiss that ends with me pinned against the wall and Oli on his knees.