Chapter 12 #2
“Still with me, Weathers?” I gave him a solid stroke, wishing I had a better angle and the foresight to grab the lube from where I’d discarded it.
“Yes, sir.” His breathy reply was my undoing. Suddenly, a simple hand job wasn’t going to cut it. Not for me.
“Excuse you, I work for a living.” The tired Army joke rolled off my tongue by reflex, but I’d be a bald-faced liar if I said I didn’t like the sound of Marc calling me sir. “But for you, I think I’ll make an exception,” I hummed low in my throat.
His pitched moan chased me as I dropped to my knees and tugged his shorts down enough to free his cock.
It had felt nice enough in my hand, but seeing it was a treat.
It wasn’t the longest dick I’d ever seen or taken, but he was a girthy fucker, and I could only imagine how incredible it would feel to have him stretching me.
I spat in my hand and stroked him. “Anyone ever told you that you have a pretty dick, Weathers?”
“Can’t say–” The rest of his words got lost in a strangled sound as I licked him from root to tip. I circled his crown with my tongue, then dipped it into his slit to a backdrop of stuttered breaths.
He tasted better than I imagined, and it only made me hungrier for more.
I lightly suckled his mushroom cap then slowly took him down to the root.
His hips rocked forward, testing my gag reflex, and I backed off, but not before I felt the whisper of touch on my head.
His dick fell free of my lips, and I looked up to find panic trying to crowd out the lust in his eyes. We weren’t having any of that bullshit.
I caught one of his hands where it was awkwardly hovering above me and placed it firmly on my head. He opened his mouth—likely to apologize—but I beat him to the punch. Dropping into my command voice, I said, “You can put your hands here or on yourself. Understand?”
He stared at me for a moment, then nodded.
“I said, is that understood, soldier?” I repeated, letting an edge leak into my voice.
His sharp inhale was almost inaudible, but I didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated. Seemed baby boy also had a bit of a submissive side as well. “Sir, yes, sir,” he replied, quiet but strong. Oh, Marc Weathers was going to be bad for my health.
Unable to help myself, I smirked and lapped at the bead of precum that pearled at the tip of his dick.
His fingers reflexively tightened on my head, scratching my scalp, and I could have purred.
Humming contentedly and eager to get back to making a full meal of him, I met his gaze again. “Color, Spec. Weathers.”
“Green, sir. Still… still green.” To my infinite pleasure and surprise, he brought his other hand to bear on my head, burying his fingers in the short threads of hair.
Green light given, I swallowed him down and let myself get lost in the taste and feel of him on my tongue, with his moans above me providing the perfect soundtrack.
I almost wished I hadn’t finished earlier so I could stroke myself as I sucked him.
More than that, I wanted to touch him everywhere.
We could build up to that. Right now I wanted to savor every second of this, because he was absolutely going to freak out when it was over.
“Sarge,” he gasped, his nails raking deliciously over my scalp and making me groan around his length.
Damn, that sounded filthy. He wasn’t even technically enlisted anymore, but it was still hot as sin.
Marc rolled his hips, tugging on my hair as I lightly tugged on his balls. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m getting close.”
I slipped my tongue back into his slit, then traced it along the prominent vein under his shaft before sucking him down hard.
A burst of precum exploded on my tongue, and I grabbed Marc’s wonderfully bouncy ass to encourage him deeper.
While he didn’t take the hint to fuck my face, he did nearly rip my hair out as he came down my throat so suddenly I almost choked.
By some miracle, I swallowed all of it—okay, most of it—down.
When his dick stopped twitching, I carefully tucked him away and redid his shorts, then slowly stood up to meet his glazed expression.
Won’t lie, I was a little relieved to see the panic hadn’t set in yet.
Hopefully, that meant I had time to cut it off at the pass.
Wanting to make sure I had his complete attention and trusting he’d call red or at least say something if he felt trapped, I braced my hands on either side of him.
“I’m going to take a quick shower. Then we are going to explore the French Quarter, grab some food, and enjoy the day, during which you will not freak out about what just happened.
” I searched his eyes, looking for dissent or signs of said freak-out waiting to emerge.
“That’s an order, Specialist Weathers. Did you enjoy yourself? ”
His face flushed an impressive rose. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. So did I.” Tempting this strange place we found ourselves in, I gently lifted his chin with my knuckle to better meet his gaze. “So there’s absolutely no reason to freak out. Correct?” I raised an eyebrow, and he nodded. “Color, Weathers.”
“Green, sir.”
I fought the impulse to kiss him, or even better, drag him up to the shower with me.
Oh yes, Marc Weathers was going to be very bad for my health.
“Alright then. I’ll be down in seven. And.
No. Freaking. Out.” I booped his nose, and he shook his head as if coming out of a stupor.
I just prayed the instinct to follow orders was still there.
Now that I’d tasted Marc, I knew once was never going to be enough.