Chapter 14 #2
“I could just spit on your oversized cock. That would be enough for you, I’m sure.”
“Please—” He starts to say more but swallows it back.
“Don’t be shy, tell Daddy what you want him to do to your heavy cock.”
His chest heaves. “I want to see you choke on it…”
I wrap his cock and mine in his underwear, our shafts pressed together. “Once I’m done, if you’re good and don’t finish before me, I’ll suck you off.”
His head rolls back into the mattress, groaning, “Thank you, Roderick.”
I rub us both, taking a few strokes before rolling my hips for extra friction.
He groans. “You’re such a good Daddy.”
“You make it easy…” He’s so relaxed into the mattress and I can’t reach his face. “Kiss me. Let me give your cock a little preview.”
He sits up and leans forward. I catch his lips, teasing his tongue with mine.
My hand is steady, having no illusions about my own stamina.
He’s so perfect. So giving and needy all at once.
It would be so easy to finish on his stomach right away, but I want to savor this—and torture him for as long as possible.
I force myself to stop. I release his cock easily, but it’s harder to pull my lips from his.
He pants like he’s nearly drowned.
I grab the base of his horn to make sure he stays put and plant a kiss on his forehead.
I nuzzle into his hair. There’s that musk of wet earth with a hint of pine scented shampoo.
He jerks forward to bury his face in my chest. I take advantage of his position and settle on his hips.
His cock throbs against the rounds of my ass.
“Fuck—” he mutters against my pecs. I notice him fisting the sheets.
My lips brush against his ear. “Stroke my cock.”
He does as he’s told, giving me long, deep strokes. I tongue his ear, slipping in a few words of encouragement here and there.
“That’s it… fuck me… so good…”
I grind my hips for more friction and so his own cock can have some relief. He groans, stroking me faster now. “I want to feel your mouth—” He bites his lip and shuts his eyes, “So bad.”
“Not yet,” I gasp but I’m right on the edge. It only takes a few more strokes before I’m coming on his chest. “Shit,” I whimper as Christos takes his time milking my shaft. Once I’m completely spent, I rest my head on his shoulder, his fur tickling like soft stubble.
It would be so easy to sit right here till I fall asleep—but that breaks our rules. And I am a man of my word. I sit up and push him down onto the bed. He settles onto the pillow, dark brown eyes fixed on me as I slide down his body and settle between his legs.
“You want to come in my mouth?”
“Yes, Roderick. I’d love to watch you swallow me.”
I kiss the wide head of his cock before wrapping my lips around him. Again, Christos is grabbing the sheets like his life depends on it. My lips leave his cock with a pop.
“You can touch me.” I take one of his hands and guide it to the back of my head. “You’ve earned this.”
I shoot him a wink before taking him in my mouth again.
His palm wraps around my head and pushes me down. I open my mouth as much as possible. I’m barely halfway down the shaft when I feel him hit the back of my throat. Then he grabs a handful of hair and drags me off his cock.
I take a deep breath, my heart racing.
“Too much?” He asks with a look of concern.
A laugh bubbles at the back of my throat.
“I can breathe through my nose.” I twirl my tongue in my mouth, gathering up as much saliva as I can before licking the very base of his cock.
He grunts as I get him as wet as possible before taking him in my mouth again.
My hands work the base while my lips and tongue take the top and tip.
He smiles, the angelic expression in stark contrast to his massive hand guiding me up and down his cock. At one point he holds me down, half his shaft buried in my throat.
“So fucking hot,” he grunts. “Perfect fucking mouth—shit.” He lets up and I bob my head, taking pleasure in his cockhead ramming my throat.
“I’m close!”
His muscles strain and a moment later he floods my mouth with salty cum. I swallow as much as I can, but after two gulps, I rear my head back. Cum splatters across my face.
His head is rolled all the way back, gasping and groaning as he spills.
His muscular chest heaves while the peaks of his thighs shake.
I’m so captivated I don’t care about the mess rolling down my neck and dripping between my pecks.
It’s probably in my hair—no don’t ruin this moment.
Focus on him, the sound of him, the taste of him, the heat rolling off his spent body.
I drag the flat of my tongue over the head of his cock, still spilling cum, and his head snaps forward with a gasp. We watch each other, me still obsessed with how he unravels while he’s fixated on how I play with his cock and cum.
“Shit—sorry!” He grabs my face and starts wiping away the thick globs of cum.
I run my tongue over my lips, then open my mouth to catch more of him.
He looks down at me, cradling my face in his hands. He murmurs, “I want to remember this…”
Once his thumbs can’t clear away any more cum, he reaches into the bedside table and hands me a fresh towel. I accept it, my mouth starting to feel dry.
“Always prepared…”
“That’s, uh…” Clearly he was about to say something but thought better of it.
Even in my post sex haze I put the pieces together. “Is this your jizz rag?”
“I mean…” He rubs the back of his neck. “It still is.”
I wipe off my face before tossing it at his chest, which is still covered in my own mess. “Showers all yours,” he offers while he cleans himself up.
I scrub my face first, then take a second to smell his shampoo before using it on myself. Once I’m done, I keep the water running for him. Only instead of going right to the shower, he catches my hips and kisses me.
“That was so good,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me all over, my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, and finally my crown—where he stops to sniff.
“You like pine? I could maybe…” Am I really offering to switch up shampoos for him? Granted, the purple shampoo I use right now smells terrible, like a chemical spill at the hair salon.
“I like how you smell now.” He gets into the shower.
I linger at the frosted door. “What do I smell like?” I shout over the running water.
He laughs. “Like sweat and old books.”
I guess that’s a complement. Who doesn’t like old books?
Christos makes quick work in the shower.
“But you also smell sweet. Kinda like fruit but I couldn’t tell you which one.” He holds my face like he did back in the bedroom, but there’s no mess to marvel at. Still, he has that look in his eyes, like I’m the only thing in the universe worth looking at.
“Stay here.”
I bite my lip to avoid shouting ‘yes!’
“Just for a while longer.” He’s so needy he’s practically begging.
I hold his hand in mine, press my cheek into his palm. “We could watch a movie?”
“I’d love that.”
We get dressed back in the bedroom, Christos putting on pajamas while I’m back in my sweats and shirt. Which reminds me of my workout clothes sitting in a gym bag in my car, causing me to groan.
He lifts a brow.
“I left my workout clothes in my car. It’s going to smell like boy sweat in there for a week.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Wow.” I’m not sure who reaches for who first but we hold hands. “I don’t remember musk being on your kink list.”
“They only let you put so much on the app before they make you pay for premium. Also, if you want to do a load of laundry, be my guest.”
“It’s just a few things.” I should kick myself down the stairs. Here I am about to subject myself to a trip to the dorm laundry room when I could do it here.
Christos either remembers the pain of college laundry day, or he notices me wavering. “Go get your gym bag. Any movie preference?”
“I dunno, not a horror movie. Or a war movie. Whatever you like.”
Stepping out into the cold dark is a major reset. The whole walk to the car, I check over my shoulder as if Bekken is going to jump out of the bushes with Terrence and Leroy in tow. As if the three of them don’t have better things to do than stalk me and Christos.
Shit, did I text Terrence an excuse? Do I need to? He’s my roommate, not my mom. I decide against it. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
After loading up the washer, I join Christos on the couch. He throws a blanket over our laps and wraps his arm around me. He presses play and a familiar score makes my ears perk up.
“An American Wolf in Paris?”
“It popped up in romantic comedies and the title sounded familiar. You know it?”
I use his pec as a pillow. “I might be a little obsessed with Gershwin.”
“Right,” he nods. “You skated to—” He stops. Grimaces. “Nevermind.”
I know what he wanted to say. That I skated to a Gershwin medley last season. It was the routine that landed me a bronze at the Grand Prix and a gold at Nationals. I love that routine. I don’t think I’ve told him that.
The overture swells and that’s the end of that. I pay more attention to his heartbeat than the dialogue. Listen to his breathing like it’s my personal symphony.
I’d get six whole hours of sleep if I was laying in bed right now.
Unfortunately my dorm is still ahead of me, all the windows facing the quad dark.
So, I’ll be less-than rested during tomorrow's coaching sessions with Maude.
Not that I regret the movie with Christos.
Or letting him kiss me a few too many times on my way out the door.
If Maude asks what time I went to bed I’ll tell her Terrence kept me up with some drunk antics. No one wants those details.
Two figures approach the front entryway from the opposite side of campus. My eyes narrow as I try to make them out before the step into the glow of a streetlamp. Only to find one of the guys is squinting right back, Terrence and Leroy walking side by side.
“Oh shit, Rod on the prowl,” Leroy bounds over trapping me in a bro-hug. He smells like soda and whiskey. Even as he holds me, his body sways, taking me along with him.
Terrence catches up, still looking at me like he can’t quite make out my face. “What’s up?”
It’s weird for me to be out this late. I could say I went on a late-night walk to clear my head or lost track of time at the rink and only just got back. On second thought, both options suck.
I tell him, “Not much.” Shrugging my shoulders, I’m able to slip out of Leroy’s grip.
“You’re out late.”
Leroy wraps his arms around the both of us, guiding us to our dorm. “Maaaan, I don’t want this night to end. We’ve had winning streaks on and off the ice.”
“Girls?” I ask, though I’m not at all interested in the details. Something clicks in my brain. “If you’re hitting up the ladies what are you doing back here?”
Leroy’s tail swishes near my ear. “Gotta make sure Terrence makes it back alright.”
Terence grumbles, “You’re the one who's drunk.” He slaps his wallet against the keyfob.
My nose scrunches. “You both reek of alcohol.”
Maybe that means neither of them will remember this in the morning. We all pile into the elevator. Terrence leans across Leroy and starts sniffing me. I push his face away.
“Dude you are so drunk.”
“You smell like dude’s shampoo.”
“And?”
“You don’t use that shit. You yell at me when I use your fancy stuff.”
As I should. My botanical body wash is wasted on him and it’s not like he needs to color correct his hair. Terrence’s hair is proper gold, not brassy like mine. I ignore him, still banking on him being blackout.
Leroy rests his cheek against Terrence’s neck. “You smell better than Rod.”
“Again, you both smell like booze.” The elevator opens. “Which I guess is better than smelling like puke.”
By the time we get to our room, Terrence and I are the ones leading Leroy around.
Terrence keeps him upright while I unlock the door.
I grab a spare pillow and blanket, dropping it on the floor in the middle of the room.
Terrence eases Leroy down. He tries to stand back up but Leroy grabs him by the shirt.
“No snuggles?”
“Goodnight, sweet prince.” I yawn, abandoning the two of them to get ready for bed.
When I get done brushing my teeth, Leroy is passed out on the floor and Terrence is laying in bed. As I climb into bed he rolls onto his side.
“You gonna tell me what’s up?”
“Go to bed, Terrence.” I shut my eyes and pass out almost as fast as Leroy.