19. Viggo #2
The amused lilt in his tone indicated he was joking, most likely in an effort to steer us to safer topics.
I took the bait, gladly…and even glowered for effect, pointing at my chest. “You want me to go to Michigan? With you?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Your poor mother would be scandalized.”
“No, she told me to bring a date.”
“So we’re dating?” I deadpanned.
Dex snickered. “Maybe we are, so…be my date. For the weekend. Two hours at the party and the rest of the time, we could do a whole lot of nothing. I have a cabin on Lake Michigan, close to my mom’s place yet far enough away.
I haven’t been in a while, but there’s great fishing up there,” he continued in a rush, adding, “You like to fish.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you like sex.”
I widened my eyes incredulously. “You’re bribing me with fish and sex?”
“Rough combo, but…yes.”
I didn’t want to be, but I was charmed.
I took the glasses off. “I’ll need a preview.”
“What do you mean?”
“Show me what I can look forward to…in a cabin…in Michigan.”
Dex opened and closed his mouth. “Right now?”
I rolled the chair to his side of the table and crossed my arms. “Right here, right now.”
He stepped close, his lips curled mischievously. “Do you have lube?”
I pulled a travel packet of lube and a condom from my wallet. I’d started carrying them with me to avoid halting action to race to the bedroom. It was either that or hide a bottle in every room of my house and his.
“Shirt off,” I commanded.
He flung his tee onto the floor and reached for my belt. “May I?”
At my nod of approval, Dex unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped me. I stood and pushed my jeans and boxer briefs down, releasing my thickening cock. He flexed his fingers and gripped my shaft, purring like a cat as he nuzzled my neck and stroked me.
I kissed his forehead, his temple, and ran my hands over his body, lingering on his hips, then his ass.
He tilted his chin to fuse our mouths, leisurely gliding his tongue alongside mine.
It was a slow, sweet seduction. We weren’t in a hurry, and we’d done this often enough that we each could anticipate what the other needed.
It was in the hushed groans and his nails gliding along my spine as he pumped his fist. Dexter wanted me to take control.
I held his face in both hands and ravaged his mouth, sucking the air from his lungs. His breath hitched as he released my dick to tackle the row of buttons on my plaid shirt. He splayed the fabric wide and tweaked my nipples till I growled.
“On your knees.”
Dex’s eyes turned molten as he hurried to obey.
He didn’t complain about the unforgiving cement floor or the fact that his cock was still trapped behind his zipper.
No. He gave his full attention to me, licking, sucking, and swallowing me like a man possessed.
He bobbed his head, pausing to fondle my balls or press his thumb on my crease.
The problem was that he was too good at this. Much too good.
I pushed Dex off me and pulled him to his feet.
Our mouths crashed as he fumbled with his belt and zipper.
I should have helped, but I was consumed with the taste of him and the hint of precum on his tongue.
My focus shifted the second he rubbed his warm, thick erection alongside mine.
I licked my hand and stroked us, and yes, it was nice and I probably could have come like that, but it wasn’t enough.
Dexter agreed. He broke the kiss and tugged at my beard. “Touch me. You know what I want. Please.”
I parted his cheeks and traced a finger along his crack. “Like this?”
“Mm. More.”
I smacked his ass and turned him to face the table.
I was on my knees a moment later, my tongue in his hole.
I stabbed at his puckered entrance, licking him while he jerked himself and chanted my name like a prayer.
I replaced my tongue with a single digit, kissing the small of his back and each vertebrae as I stood.
Dex opened the condom and lube packets, handing them over his shoulder. He leaned forward, his weight braced on his elbows and mumbled something like, “Fuck me.”
I rolled the latex on and pressed two lube-slicked fingers at his entrance. Then three. “So this is how we go fishing in Michigan, ja?”
My accent slipped and if I wasn’t careful, I’d forget how to speak English, but I doubted Dex would care. He had one thing on his mind. Only one.
“Get that dick inside me. Now. I need you. I want—oh…ungh!”
I pushed past the first ring of muscle and went still, not wanting to hurt him. “Shh. I’ve got you. Slappna av.”
“What does that mean?”
“Relax.”
“It’s hard,” he grunted.
I chuckled, kissing his shoulder as I began to move. “I don’t think you want me to be soft.”
“Oh…fuck. Oh…yes. More.”
I obliged, clutching his hips and thrusting deep.
The pace was steady—a rhythmic thump echoing off the ceilings along with the clank of our belt buckles.
We’d left our jeans and shoes on, which limited our movement yet seemed sexier than it should have.
A half-dressed Dexter, spreading himself open for me, and begging me to never stop? Yeah…this was good.
Too good.
I lost my tempo as my orgasm crashed into me like a freight train traveling at high speed and sent me flying. I roared through my release and felt Dexter tense and come beneath me.
We gasped like fish out of water for a minute or so. Eventually, I disengaged and we cleaned up with wet paper towels from the sink.
“I have a bathroom here if you want…or we can go to the house,” I said awkwardly.
“This is fine. I’m…wrecked.” He laughed and shoved a hand through his hair. “Why is this so amazing? You don’t have to answer. In fact, don’t. I’m just feeding your ego.”
“I don’t mind.”
Dex grinned, fussing with the collar of his tee. “So…Michigan?”
I rolled my eyes and grumbled. I knew he wouldn’t hold me to it, but I also knew that if he wanted me to, I’d go.