SEVENTEEN #2
I finally get his belt undone, shoving his jeans down his thighs along with his boxers.
His thick and veiny cock springs free. I lean in, my breath ghosting over the tip, and he shudders.
“Fuck, just like that,” he growls as I lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock.
I swirl my tongue around the crown, then lap up the salty pre-cum before taking him into my mouth.
He hits the back of my throat, making me gag, the tears pricking at my eyes.
I don’t stop. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, my hands gripping his thighs for balance.
“That’s it, choke on it,” he pants, his hips rolling forward, fucking my mouth in shallow thrusts.
I moan around him, the vibration making him groan louder.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, detka, but you didn’t bring me in here to suck me off.
” He yanks my head back, his cock popping free from my mouth with a wet sound.
He hauls me to my feet, spinning me around and pressing my chest against the stall wall.
His hands are everywhere — pulling my jacket off, then my shirt, his nails digging into my sides, then his teeth sinking into the side of my neck.
I whimper, my cock leaking, my hole aching.
“Please,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Please, Ari, I need you.”
His fingers find the button of my jeans, popping it open with a sharp tug. The zipper rasps down, and then his hands are shoving my jeans and boxers down my thighs, pulling them off, exposing every inch of me. Then I hear the snap of the lube bottle.
He kicks my legs apart, then his fingers are there, pressing against my hole.
I push back desperately against them. “So fucking needy for me,” he growls, his fingers sliding inside me with ease.
I moan loudly, my cock twitching, the pre-cum dripping onto the floor.
“That’s it, let everyone hear how good I make you take it? ”
“Fuck— please—” I beg, my voice breaking, my body trembling with the need to feel him inside me.
He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving me empty, making me whine.
But then his jacket and shirt hit the floor next to me.
His hands are on my waist, turning and lifting me like I weigh nothing.
My legs wrap around his hips on instinct, my back pressing against the wall as he lines himself up.
I can feel the thick, blunt head of his cock pressing against me, the stretch already promising to be brutal.
“You want it rough?” he growls, his forehead pressing against mine. “You want me to fuck you like I own you?”
“Yes,” I hiss, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Fucking ruin me.” He doesn’t warn me. He doesn’t go slow.
He slams into me in one brutal thrust, his cock spearing me open.
The burn steals my breath. My vision blacks out as my body struggles to take him.
He’s huge, thicker than his fingers, stretching me open, and the way he groans as he bottoms out — fuck, I love it.
“So fucking tight,” he grunts, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate circle, grinding his cock deeper.
I can’t even form words. All I can do is cling to him, my fingers digging into his neck and his back as he starts to move.
His thrusts are punishing, each snap of his hips driving me higher up the wall.
The wet sound of his balls slapping against me fills the stall, mixed with our ragged breathing, grunts, and the distant thump of the bass.
I brace a foot against the opposite wall, holding myself up a little.
Ari is panting, his lips crashing against mine in a bruising kiss.
I can only moan into it, my cock trapped between us, leaking pre-cum with every thrust. His hand finds my throat, his fingers tightening just enough to make my pulse roar in my ears.
The pressure and the way he’s thrusting into me — fuck, I’ve never been so hard in my life.
The pleasure is too much — the burn of him inside me, the way his cock drags over my prostate with every snap of his hips.
My balls draw up tight, my orgasm coiling low in my gut.
“Gonna—fuck, Ari—” My voice breaks, my body tensing as the first wave of my release crashes over me.
Cum sprays between us, thick ropes painting his abs and his chest. The sight of it — the way his eyes darken as he watches me come undone — it pushes him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and floods me.
His cum is hot, so fucking hot, filling me up as his cock pulses inside me.
I can feel every throb, every jet of his release painting my insides, and the filthy, possessive way he growls “mine” as he empties himself inside me sends another weak pulse of cum dripping from my spent cock.
For a minute, we stay like that — him pinning me to the wall, his cock still buried deep, both of us breathing like we’ve been drowned and brought back to life.
Ari pulls back just enough to press a slow, filthy kiss to my lips. “I fucking love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction.
I can’t even form a proper response. My body is still trembling, my arse aching, my mind lost in the haze of post-orgasm. All I can do is cling to him, my forehead resting against his as I try to remember how to breathe. “Love— you—” I manage, making him laugh softly against my lips.
He finally slides out and sets me carefully on my feet. My legs nearly give out, but his arm wraps around my waist, holding me up. “Easy,” he chuckles, his lips brushing my temple. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.”
I glare at him, but there’s definitely no anger behind it. Not when I can still feel him inside me and not when my own release is drying on his skin. He smirks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my hip as he leans in to steal another kiss.
The bathroom door creaks open somewhere down the line, the sound of people stumbling in and out barely registering over the roar of blood in my ears. There’s no way we weren’t heard, but I'm finding it very hard to care right now.