5. Logan
LOGAN
My cock throbs like a traitor between my legs.
I open for Chase and he slides along my tongue as soon as he has access, not hesitating for a moment. He does move slowly, though, like he’s offering each inch of his cock like a gift.
So goddamn proud of your dick.
He goes further in one smooth motion, giving me more until I feel his tip push up hard against the back of my throat.
And then he keeps going. He moves past the point where I can breathe, and his hand comes down at the back of my head, forcing me forward more.
It’s way too fucking much.
My mouth is up all the way to his base, with my lower lip hitting the top of his sack and my nose shoved into the soft hair above it. When he pulls his hips back and then shoves in again, I gag on his size. It stretches my throat wide, too big for me.
The moment he feels me struggle, he exhales, looking down at me with his eyes half-lidded.
I can’t breathe.
“Does it hurt?” he murmurs.
But he must be aware that I can’t speak.
My whole mouth is stuffed with him, warm and tight and stretched.
He pulls out for a split second, teasing at giving me a break, but then he goes back in again fast before I get a chance.
His soft moan fills the air above me as he grips the hair at the back of my head.
The edges of my eyes start to sting right before he finally takes mercy on me and pulls all the way out.
I gasp for a breath. I cough a couple of times, and he takes a breath too, singularly focused as he looks down at me.
“God,” he murmurs.
Enjoying your prize, with your freakishly large cock?
“Yes, it hurt,” I tell him.
“Did you like it?”
I breathe for a moment, pausing to try to convince myself I haven’t gone insane.
“Did you like it?” he repeats, more firmly.
The truth is devastating to admit.
“Yes.”
He nods. “Your mouth is perfect. It’s rare that a girl can take all of me, but you… fuck, I almost wish I had my supplies so I could paint you. Come here.”
He uses his thumb to push down on my chin, coaxing my mouth open for him again as I obey.
I’m too busy looking at the veins on his cock to pay much attention to what he’s saying, because I can’t figure out the physics of how the fuck I fit that whole thing inside me, either.
Inch after inch of him fills my mouth again. This time I’m slightly more prepared, expecting the amount of force he uses, so I lean into it, giving him a better angle for my throat.
He’s clearly crazy, but I have no ground to stand on either. My cock is straining against my pants, and I reach down and fumble to undo the top button and zipper, fishing it out until it’s freed.
I squeeze my fist around myself and moan in relief around his cock.
That feels better.
“Hey. You can’t come,” he utters, watching me with a burning stare. “Not ‘til I say.”
I find myself wondering why Chase thinks he has any authority over what I do.
I wonder if he’s always like this. He starts to fuck my mouth in earnest, like it’s a perfectly normal occurrence for him to use me, and even though he hasn’t been with a man, he certainly seems well acquainted with taking control.
I gasp for air again after he pulls out of my throat.
His green eyes are so arresting, like he’s taking something from me with his gaze.
When he looks at me like that, things get too real. It starts to seem like he’s wondering who I am, and it sends panic through me.
Don’t think too deeply about me.
That’s not what this is.
I take the initiative to slide forward again on his cock before he has the chance to think too deeply about it.
I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft, lapping along him for a minute before I take him as far as I possibly can again, feeling the ridge of his cock head push deep into my throat.
“What the actual fuck…” he whispers, but he doesn’t finish the question. “It’s like you’re trying to milk my cum from me. Who taught you to suck dick like that?”
Who taught you to talk like that?
He grips the back of my head hard and I groan as he yanks me into a position he seems to like.
If this is how forceful he acts with his cock in someone’s mouth, I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be fucked by him. He must be completely intolerable. The thought pulses through me unbidden, and my cock throbs in my hand.
I can’t think about doing more.
He’s never going to fuck me. I’ve never been fucked with anything other than a toy. Even when I was last with a man, I was still so young, and things never went that far. Daniel would never kiss me… and never fuck me. That was the unspoken rule.
I exhale as he pulls out of my throat just enough. I let go of my own cock, trying to remember to breathe.
His necklaces hang in the air in front of his chest as he looks down at me. They glint a little in the glow of the neon sign.
“You look good with me between your lips,” he utters.
I catch my breath. “You’re…”
“I know I’m a lot.”
“You’re relentless.”
He gives me a short nod, pushing back his hair. “Yeah. I know.”
I pause for a moment as he strokes his fingertips across my upper shoulder, then digs in, almost like he’s giving me a kneading massage.
He seems to want to touch me at all times. His hand has been roaming from my shoulder to my hair to my neck in a little loop, the whole time. His eyes dance across my face, and his other hand stays stroking along his shaft as he lets me breathe.
“Are you always like this, with women?”
He chews on his lower lip, then lets it go. “Not exactly. But you feel different. Can we not dwell on that?”
I nod at him. “My mouth is right here.”
He groans. “Ugh, fuck.”
He pushes back in again. I’m finally getting used to his oversized dick and his impatience.
I look him in the eye and I can tell he’s getting closer to the edge. The neon glow frames his dark hair like a halo, and with each thrust, his hair bounces a little in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he clutches harder at the back of my head. “Need to come. Want you to watch me.”
I feel his cock pulse. At the last moment, he pulls out of me, digging his hand in my hair while he pumps his fist hard along his cock with the other.
He shoots out across the surface of the roof, streaks of white reaching far beside me on the ground. It’s gorgeous and obscene.
He steps back slowly, but his other hand is still firm at the back of my head. He keeps stroking my hair with his thumb, mindlessly, like I’m his tether back down to Earth.
I wipe my mouth with my hand. He slowly releases my hair, and it feels strange to be let go after being gripped at so insistently.
He collects himself. I watch his massive cock disappear again behind his pants as he zips up, and I almost wish he left it out even as it softened so I could memorize the image of it in my mind.
“Thank you,” I utter, my voice coming out low and hoarse.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re welcome.”
I can’t help but puff out a laugh. “Of course.”
“What?” he protests.
“Of course you like being thanked, even when you’re the one who came.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You basically begged me for it.”
My cock throbs as I look up at him. He’s watching me closely, his eyes trained on me like I’m prey he’s still actively tracking.
“And you’re fucking crazy,” I whisper. “Taking my air from me like that.”
I start to slowly stroke my cock again, and right now I don’t care that I probably look desperate and pathetic on the ground in front of him. It dawns on me that he could easily leave me here like this, hard and dripping for him, and walk away.
“Did you like that?” he asks. “When I cut off your airway?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
Why do I keep telling you the truth?
“I want you to remember this. Next time you come, and the time after that, too.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
You power-hungry tyrant.
He starts to move and I come to terms with the fact that he might be leaving. It was a fun experiment. Certainly solid material for the spank-bank.
But he steps behind me instead of heading for the door.
Then sits behind me, putting his arms around my waist, and suddenly I’m wrapped in his warmth. He bats my hand away from my cock and for a moment, I truly believe he’s going to continue the torture and not let me come.
But his fingers close around my dick, and he gives it a squeeze. He starts to stroke, taking over the job.
It’s far too good.
It’s been way too long.
“You’re going to have to tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he demands. “Only ever touched my own dick before, so I’m just going to do what feels good on me.”
“Chase, Jesus Christ,” I utter. “You don’t have to, if—”
“It’s not fair if I don’t get you back, though. It’s one of my rules. Like… bad karma, or something, if I don’t. I never leave women high and dry.”
“Well, I’m not a woman.”
“Do you want me to touch you, or not?” he asks, irritation rising in his voice, his fist going still on my dick. He still squeezes me hard, but pauses mid-stroke. “It doesn’t have to be a thing. I’m not a homophobe or something, and I’m sure as fuck not afraid.”
I pause, my body feeling frozen for a moment. “Obviously I want it. I just doubt that you do.”
He grips my cock harder. “Relax. Let me return the favor.”
I watch his hand move between my legs, exhaling as he charges forward.
“Never been bullied into a hand job before,” I mutter.
“Well, I’ve never given a hand job before, so I guess we’re fuckin’ twins tonight, Logan.”
I try to relax into the pure sensation. His hands are just rough enough that the friction feels incredible on my cock, and I breathe deep, focusing on every tug.
I gaze down at his hand and see that he has two tiny tattoos on the edge of his index finger. A tiny bird, a tiny feather. I let my body lean backward against him, the front of his chest connecting with my back, warm and solid, and he hums when I finally lean against him.
He reaches his other hand to shove the bottom of my shirt upward, exposing my stomach, reaching up underneath the fabric to clutch at my chest.
“How much do you work out?” he says near my ear.
“Probably too much.”
He exhales. “Send me your gym routine.”