11 - Dan James
11
Dan James
Not only weren’t we done just yet, but right after kissing me senseless like he was trying to suck the taste of his come from my mouth, Andy then jerked me off, pulling my cock out and whispering some of that evil, filthy dirty talk that got me harder than anything had ever before, and with a hand that was slightly callused and absolutely unrelenting, he all but tore the orgasm out of me, eating my moans with his mouth, then putting his come-dirty fingers in it.
It was the hottest thing I had ever seen, especially since he didn’t look away from me for one second while he was doing it, his pale blue eyes dark and intense.
He was such an asshole, he just knew what he was doing to me. His arrogance and confidence drew me in like a thrall and fuck if I wasn’t eating all of it up as much as I hated him for it.
It didn’t help that my chest was still tingling secretly from his praise, from the way I’d felt when he was commanding me and I was sucking him deep, when my mind felt a little floaty and I just focused on the sensation of him on my tongue and brushing against the walls of my mouth.
For the first time in a long time, I’d felt like I didn’t have to worry about anything, I’d felt like sucking him was the center of my world, and even if that was a little fucked up, the fucking relief and giddiness that had come over me from that fact had made me harder and my chest warmer than ever before.
I didn’t know how or why, but Andy Jacobs had managed to get a vicious grip over both my mind and my cock, and I needed to be careful if I didn’t want to grow addicted to it.
Once we went home, we did it all over again, clothes lost in the entrance as we hastily made our way to the shower, where Andy got on his knees and sucked me off like his life depended on it, and then, after we finally went to sleep, each of us to our own bedroom, I finally thought it was over.
But then next morning, bright and early, Andy had been in the kitchen, about to go to the gym to check up on things as he did most Saturdays, but instead, one look at each other, and he had been on me, kissing me stupid, before I got on my knees and all but begged for him to fuck into my mouth like he had last night. He hesitated at first, saying something about having a sore throat, but one very convincing hungry look up at him from my lowered position had been more than enough to convince him, and all of it had ended with his come in my mouth and my toes curling with his hand in my pants and his lips against my own.
That had been four days ago.
And we hadn’t stopped running our hands all over each other ever since.
Something had changed in that stall.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
Which meant that somehow, someway, we ended up repeating the whole thing again and again, day after day, first during the weekend and then even after our workdays, which were basically spent trying not to fidget in my seat in my office– his office –as I counted down the hours until I could have him all to myself, when no one would be looking, and I could stop pretending that I didn’t want his hands on me all over again.
This was a purge, I decided. Simply a way to get each other out of our systems, nothing more.
So I just kissed him a little harder and let myself enjoy the possessive grip of his hands on my skin a little more, because what was a little more gasoline to an already burning inferno?
I chanted that excuse in my head as we stood in the bathroom, our bathroom, right after we’d had a shower, my back flush against his front as we stared at each other in the mirror. One of Andy’s hands kept me pinned against him as we were half bent, my hands against the counter, and he explored my body, my chest, my stomach, watching water droplets fall off me as with the other he held my cock, giving it evil, lazy strokes after I had already come.
“Aren’t you getting tired of my cock yet?” I asked, as Andy trailed hungry kisses down my neck.
He chuckled, leaving a playful bite on my shoulder.“Why, you want me to leave you hanging? Not let you come?”
Of course the asshole would have an overstimulation kink and of course I would also have one too.
Because I loved it. I loved how he commanded me, how he used me, and even when it hurt, my hips tried to push into his grip, sending shivers up my spine.
I shouldn’t have wanted to come, I’d just done it, but fuck if the need wasn’t already raising up my balls, little painful pinpricks lighting me up with each soft touch.
Still, I forced myself to say, “I meant in general. Don't you have new conquests to get to?”
The question had been haunting me for days, and as much as I’d tried to brush it away every time, telling myself to take what was given and not question it, it kept coming back.
It might be one thing to allow this to happen twice, but we had been at this for almost a week already, and as much as I should know better, I didn’t want this to stop. It was definitely a no-strings-attached situation, but it still wasn't Andy's style. I couldn’t deny I felt a hint of apprehension at the thought that he might one day show up and say we were done, but at the same time, I wanted to fight against it.
We were nothing. Not exclusive. Not a thing .
It didn’t matter that he kept touching me the way he did, at times almost sweetly, lovingly, at others possessive, like he wanted to mark me and didn’t want to let me go.
Don’t get attached.
Andy stopped for a second, and I could almost feel the wariness in him at my question, the new tension in his arms, and then continued, his grip looser, meaner, evil , and I had to come up to my tiptoes to follow him, my toes curling with how good it was, biting my lip so I wouldn't let a whine out.
“Maybe I just like having a sex toy at my beck and call,” he said, voice rough in my ear, as if he was irritated with himself, before squeezing my balls and making me gasp. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that loves to suck cock as much as you do.”
I did feel a little bit like his toy, but in the best way possible. Andy touched me like I was his, his to take care of, his to play with, his to own, and it was too easy to fall into the fantasy, too exhilarating to feel like the player’s plaything, which should have been the last thing I wanted, given how much I’d looked down on this particular trait of his in the past.
But if I was being honest with myself, it had just been jealousy.
Because guys like him never paid attention to guys like me.
“Why do you ask?”
I didn’t immediately answer, hoping he’d let it go and focus on the sweet torture he was doing on me, but all of a sudden, he stopped, and I groaned.
“You’re my toy, aren’t you?” Andy asked, dipping his head toward my ear and making me shiver with the contact. “Answer my question or I’ll tug all of the answers out of you.”
I stared at the cup in front of me holding our toothbrushes, at the small hand soap beside it, at my hands on the cold counter, and tried my best to make myself sound as neutral as possible.
“I just wanted to know where we stand.” My heart thumped.
“So it’s not because you want to try this with someone else?” he asked, with an edge to his voice.
I should have said yes and tried to put in some distance.
I shouldn’t have liked his threatening tone.
“And what if I did?” I asked, feeling emboldened despite my better judgment. “The bartender sure has his eyes on me very often.”
It wasn’t a lie, Vincent did eye me every time we went to the bar, winking in my direction and giving me secret smiles that promised a good time.
The lie was my hypothetical interest.
“He couldn’t make you come like I do,” Andy growled, and my insides tingled with stupid delight as he started stroking me again.
“I’m not coming, am I?” I asked, because fuck this had turned into an edging session.
Andy bit me. “You’re such a brat.”
“And you’re not putting out.”
With that, he turned me around and took hold of my nape while he started jerking the both of us off, making me look between us at the way he was holding me.
“See that?” he asked, voice rough, eyes deadly. “That’s my cock and my toy, and no one else gets to use it before I say so.”
Fuck , his voice and his words made my gut tighten with want and my heart go overdrive. An earth-shattering orgasm was approaching, breath shallowing already, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
I should have been annoyed at his possessiveness, I should have rejected it , but I only found it more stupidly hot.
I loved it. I wanted more of it.
I wanted more of him .
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” I said, voice hoarse.
Andy’s grip on my nape tightened. “Say you won’t.”
I shouldn’t.
I fucking shouldn’t.
Andy leaned into me, his long hair tickling my face. “Say you won’t and I’ll let you come.”
He said that even as he stroked both of us faster with just one hand, the slide of my cock against his hypnotic and almost too good.
I was about to come anyway and we both knew it, and still, the words tingled on my lips.
“ Dan.”
“I won’t.”
Andy tightened his grip and started fucking almost into me, giving me what I wanted and triggering my orgasm.
This was just temporary.
Even if, after he came, he put his come-covered fingers on my lips with dark eyes and kissed me languidly, marking me, sucking on my tongue like he needed me.
I could get used to this.