Chapter 6 #2
The kisses are like butterflies lighting on my skin, and the tickling feelings make me want to wildly ram my cock down his throat.
Just as I open my mouth to command him to get on with it, he switches things up.
He licks a stripe from the base to the tip, his rough tongue making me shiver.
Then he lifts my cock and slides his tongue over my frenulum.
I’m incredibly sensitive there and the pleasure is like a shot of pure vodka.
“Fuck,” I choke out. “More.”
He obeys, running his tongue over and over it, before moving and doing the same to the tip. My hips start to move, and he makes a throaty sound of approval, his fingers gripping my hips, silently commanding me do it again.
Soon my hands are in his hair, the strands silky and warm as I pull his head closer, urging him to suck me.
Ignoring my silent demand, he pulls away, exposing my needy cock to cool air. I grunt a protest, but I shut up when he lowers his head and licks my balls instead. I cry out as he squeezes them gently before taking one in his mouth and sucking.
“Fuck,” I whisper as he fists my cock in one hand and treats each of my balls to luscious sucking. His movements are easy. He’s obviously done this before, and I relax a little at the knowledge.
I only realise my eyes have fallen shut when cold air replaces the heat of his tongue and I hear him say, “Look at me.”
I force my eyes open, staring blearily down at him. His cheeks are cherry red, his lips swollen, and the head of his cock is peeking from the top of his tiny briefs.
Touch yourself, I mouth.
He groans and quickly wriggles out of his underwear, tossing the briefs to the side. His cock springs up, slapping his flat belly with a meaty sound that makes my mouth water.
“What do you want me to do now?” he asks, his husky voice screaming sex.
I watch him for a few seconds before saying hoarsely, “I want you to suck me and make me come, and I need you to touch yourself while you’re doing it.” He nods and leans in again, but I twist my fingers in his hair meanly. “Don’t come,” I warn him.
He groans, his expression abandoned and wild like a daydream come to life. He doesn’t say another word, just fists my cock before lowering his head and taking me into his mouth. It’s a hot, tight, perfectly wet grip and I groan loudly. “That’s so good.”
He hums, and the vibration runs along my dick and down into my balls.
The sounds he makes become garbled and almost feral, and he grips his cock and starts to masturbate, fucking into his hand with tight, urgent motions. All the while, his head bobs and his mouth sucks.
He takes me deeper, gagging a little, and the spasming of his throat makes my head spin. He looks up at me, and his eyes are twinkling so I know he did it on purpose.
“Do it again. Choke on it,” I whisper and the humour abruptly dies.
He immediately obeys, sucking me hard, swallowing around me. His hand moves frantically, the head of his dick red and sticky as it appears and disappears into his grip.
Then he lets go and uses that hand to rub my perineum, his fingers slick with his own juices. And all the time he’s sucking, the pressure’s like a fucking hoover. I can hear myself making choked little noises of pleasure, and it’s like there’s a stranger in the room.
His fingers find my hole and tease it in small circles. He looks up, asking mutely for permission, and I nod.
“Don’t use lube,” I say thickly. “I want to feel the sting.”
His eyes flare impossibly hot and he makes a garbled noise around my cock that makes lightning shoot up my spine.
“Easy,” I say, pulling out, the sudden cold air on my cock a tiny sting of pain. “Slow,” I say.
He smiles, his lips pink and swollen. He takes my cock back into his mouth and then slowly inserts a finger alongside it, getting the digit wet with his saliva and my precome.
When he removes it, I open my legs, leaning back against the wall and canting my groin forwards.
He immediately circles the small hole, rubbing circles against the nerve-rich opening.
I tense slightly, as it’s been a long while since anyone did this to me, and he takes that moment to slide in his finger, giving his knuckle a crook.
The pleasure is white hot as he brushes my prostate, and I can’t help the way my hips snap towards him.
He chokes, and I bend over, petting his hair. “Sorry, sorry,” I mutter.
He lets my cock fall from his mouth long enough to say, “I liked it. Do it again,” and then bends back to his task, sucking me in again.
This time he makes the suction strong and powerful, his finger moving rhythmically into my arse. I rock my head against the wall, still staring at him—the flushed cheeks, the long eyelashes, and the full swollen mouth in an O around my dick.
My panting, sobbing breaths mingle with his greedy slurps, and everything is wet, hot, and messy, and suddenly I’m done.
“I’m going to come,” I manage to get out.
He stays on my cock, and I raise my hands to his head trying to push him back.
Instead, he clings, his knees now pressed tightly against me as his head bobs frantically.
He cups my balls and my shout rings in my ears as I burst and come down his throat, feeling it constrict around me as I jerk and groan.
He drinks me down, making soft, little noises of pleasure and then pulls off. I hiss at the loss of that hot heaven, and eye his face greedily. He looks fuck-drunk and he gives a small whine as he fists his cock.
“Can I come on you?” His voice is rough, making me thrill with possessive pleasure.
“Yes, of course,” I say, cupping his head and carding my fingers through the soft waves. “On the bed?” I grab his elbow after he gets up and immediately sways. “Whoa. Easy.”
He leans into me, his eyes bleary, the ocean blue drowsy with need. “Take your jeans off,” he says bossily.
I slide them off my hips, and they fall to the ground. Then I strip off my briefs and stand naked in front of him.
“So hot,” he groans.
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”
Humour lights his pretty eyes briefly. “Only the ones who are going to let me spunk on them.”
I lie on the bed and pat my chest. “Get up here.” Then I grunt as he scrambles on and promptly elbows me in the throat. “Fucking hell,” I wheeze.
“Sorry, hope you’re okay. I currently need to come too badly to show much concern.”
The garbled words make me laugh. I grab his hips as he moves over me, positioning him so he’s straddling my torso. “Show me,” I order. “Let me see you touch yourself.”
“Alright, but don’t use a timer and judge me because I’m going to come in seconds.”
“Duly noted.”
He rests one hand on my chest and his fingers card through the hair there as his fist shuttles up and down his dick.
It’s long, slender, and the same honey gold as his skin, the head pink and sticky with precome.
I run my finger through the slippery mess and raise it to my mouth, sucking on the digit.
The salty taste explodes on my tongue. “Fuck,” I breathe reverently. “You’re delicious.”
His hand speeds up as he begins to rock, sliding his balls along my stomach and obviously relishing the hair there. The movements are graceful and possess an inherent sensuality that’s incredibly sexy.
“I’m close,” he gasps.
I grab his hips. “In my mouth. I want to taste you.”
“Oh my god,” he breaths and then he’s obeying me, sliding up my chest. He arches over me and his cock slides into my mouth. I angle my head, taking him down deep and swallowing around him.
He tastes salty and clean and I suck harder, hearing his garbled whines and moans.
I raise my finger to his mouth, giving him an unspoken command that he immediately obeys, and my cock twitches as he fellates my finger until saliva runs down his chin.
I pull my finger away and reach around, tapping at his tight little hole.
I wish fleetingly that I could see it as I slide my finger inside him, searching for the spongy nub. I find it and rub it in quick pulses.
His whole body goes rigid. “I’m going to—” He pulls away and hovers over me, jerking his cock frantically. His face contorts and he cries out. “Coming. Oh fuck.”
Liquid pulses over my stomach and I cup his balls, squeezing gently and prolonging his climax.
He rides it out, shuddering and groaning before falling still. Then he gently totters over and falls onto the sheets beside me.
For a few minutes, the room is silent apart from our pants and the occasional groan.
Then he stirs. He turns into me and slings his thigh over mine, burying his face in my chest. “Stay for a minute,” he says.
I hesitate, but the bed is warm and cosy, the sheets smelling of sex and laundry detergent, and ever-present tiredness tugs at my bones. It’s a tiredness that never seems to go away.
“Just for a minute,” I say, my voice slurring at the edges. “I’ve got to be somewhere.”
I come awake with a start to complete darkness and for an awful few seconds I have no idea where I am. For a wild moment I hear harsh voices speaking in a foreign language and the sound of a shot.
Then it fades like morning mist lifting from a field and I become aware of a warm weight against my side and a lax arm slung over me.
I breathe out a measured breath. I’m safe.
I’m in bed with a sunshiny boy and the darkness isn’t complete.
Night has fallen outside the window, but moonlight is now drifting in, tracking the lines of the furniture.
I relax back into the pillows. I slept and my mind feels clear and fresh again. It’s such an unusual feeling after suffering through months of insomnia. Then I stiffen. Moonlight?
I raise my arm and squint at the numbers on my watch.
“Shit,” I shout. “Oh fuck.”
The boy stirs and I remember I don’t even know his name, but that pales into insignificance at the sheer size of the clusterfuck facing me. “What is it?” he mumbles.
“I fell asleep and now I’m late.”
“Oh no.” He nestles in and closes his eyes again.