Chapter Seventeen
Grady
“No fair.”
Chet pouts, naked, hard, and sweaty. “Is too fair,” I somehow manage to mutter around his big toe as I start to suck it in earnest.
“You’re having all the fun!”
We’re at opposite ends of the living room couch. Lights off. Moonlight streaming in. Totally naked and hard as guardrails, our backs rest across opposite cushions. I slide his toe out with an audible “thwock” sound and frown. “Trust me, Chet? We’re both going to have fun if you’d just trust me.”
“I can’t reach your stupid toe!”
“You won’t have to once I...” I wink and slide my foot against his stiff prick. It dances along the arch, veiny, stiff, and smooth.
“Oh,” he grunts, smiling. Then: “Oh!”
I wink and plop his toe back in my mouth, sucking it as if it’s his stiff prick, only .
.. smaller. It’s squeaky clean and somewhat disappointing.
After all, I should have let him sweat all day and then sucked him clean instead.
But then again, it’s my first time worshipping some sexy stud’s foot, so .
.. I’ll do better next time. Hell, maybe I’ll even sniff his dirty sock first. I hear some guys like that.
For now, it’s enough to suck his big, thick toe and stroke his pretty little cock with my foot. He leans into it, the leather creaking beneath him as he slithers closer, spreading those milky white thighs as I spy a hint of his rosy boy pussy tucked beneath his puckered taint.
I sigh and curse myself for being such a damn gentleman when I know good and well he’d bend over for me in a heartbeat. Or would I bend over for him? And why can’t we both do ... both?
I shake the thought away, watching his soft belly flutter and pink nipples stiffen in reply to my gentle stroking.
Or is it his? In the end, Chet simply presses his slick cock against my foot and uses it for his pleasure, grinding, gliding, thrusting, and grunting as a sheen of fresh sex sweat slithers across his silken skin.
I watch in wide wonder, stiffening in reply as his own foot stretches to find my balls, gently hoisting them atop his toes as I moan in reply.
He winks and, reaching down, pats the leather cushion until he finds my foot.
“Gotcha!” he teases, wriggling, thrusting, grunting until awkwardly he hoists my foot and—
“Oh!” I get it now, my cock leaping in reply as his smooth sole wriggles up the length of me, pressing down until my cock is sandwiched between his foot and my panting belly.
The heat of his mouth, the tender sucking, his soft, sweaty body, and achingly tender foot make quick work of my willpower, turning me into a panting, sucking, thrusting hunk of meat in seconds flat.
And here I thought I’d never cum again after that tidal wave of jizz we both spilled in the poor tub, nearly overflowing the sucker as we came buckets in and out of the roiling waves!
Suddenly? I’m seconds away from another—
“Shit!” He comes first, a geyser blast straight up his body, his thick, endless ropes splattering his chin and chest before drizzling down onto his belly and, not by accident, my big toe.
I watch him guiltily, memorizing every drizzle of jizz down his puffy pink nipples, every pool of it in his soft, panting belly, every stain of it along his thin, barely there pubic strip. And then, a press, a pull, a nudge, and—
“Fuck!” I cum next, big, hearty, splashing blasts that pepper my chest and stain my belly, taut and tan beneath their slinky white jets.
I admire the way they ice my big, furry bush before drizzling onto his toe.
I slip his foot from my mouth, licking my lips as I yank the other one up, hearing his playful grunt in reply, “Hey!”
But watching me suck my own jizz off his toe gives him an idea as, slyly, he does the same: sucking my toe clean of his own fresh seed, murmuring, muttering, cursing the whole while.
“Sexy fuck,” he grunts when, at last, toes sucked clean and cocks creamy soft, we find each other in the middle of the big sectional couch.
Curling into a ball, I spoon him, clutching him inside my cocoon of affection as his back presses against my sticky, panting chest. “You’re too much,” he insists, greedily clutching my hands and tugging them to his throat.
I feel his Adam’s apple bobbing, wondering if he’s as emotional as I am right now.
Luckily, he can’t see the moisture in my eyes, heart breaking at the thought of all this ending in a few short days.
“I’m not enough,” I insist, clutching him tighter as my ankles wrap around him as if afraid to let go for so much as a single second.
There is a slight pause before he asks, “How do you mean?”
“Not enough to keep you here,” I croak, tears falling at last.
He sighs and squeezes my hand. “No more of that tonight,” he insists.
“I wish it were that easy.” I sigh, warm breath splashing across the back of his neck.
“I don’t ... I can’t ... think of the future right now.”
I nod, even though he can’t see it. “You’re right, Chet. It’s hard enough just thinking about the present...”