3. Dane #2
I explode with a roar, pumping my hips into his hand, keeping the perfect rhythm through my climax. Ropes of my white, hot cum pulse out of my cock, dripping over his hand and down my shaft.
“Goddamn, that was good,” I admit, as my entire body melts into the chair.
Every nerve ending in my body is alive and I feel like I’m floating. I chuckle out a euphoric breath as I come back from whatever dimension he sent me to. I glance down, reaching for his hand but it’s gone.
There’s a moment of panic as I fall to my knees peering into the hole. The light from his TV is gone, just a faint deep red hue remains. It’s hard to see his silhouette until his arm crosses my line of sight and his hand wraps around the door handle to leave.
“Wait,” I spit out. “Don’t go.”
There’s a long pause, both of us stalled in our spots.
Please don’t leave.
I realize I may have said that out loud, but at this point I don’t care if I sound like I’m begging. I audibly swallow because for some unknown reason I feel nervous. For him? For myself? I have no idea.
“I want to make this good for you,” I confess because that much I know is true.
My breath is held hostage in my throat as his body remains completely still. Finally, his chest lifts and he takes in a commanding breath before slowly exhaling.
His body visibly relaxes. His shoulders slouch and his hand falls from the door handle.
Fuck. Yes.
His shadow stands completely still as his trembling hands fumble with his belt buckle.
He lets out another heavy breath and if I were to guess, he’s scolding himself right now, and I hate that for him.
I want to say something, comfort him, make him feel better about this but I also don’t want that to send him running.
Instead, he surprises me when his pants fall to his ankles and he turns, facing the hole.
He palms his engorged cock, stroking it in front of me, sans all nerves, and the confidence is so fucking sexy.
That’s a beautiful cock.
He chuckles and I realize I spoke out loud again.
But I care less about that and more about him. I want to make him feel good. My body hums with excitement and I find myself desperate for him.
With another shocking move, he steps forward, pushing his cock through the hole, forcing me to lean back to accommodate the size. It’s just inches from my face and it’s just as gorgeous close up.
On instinct my eyes glance up as if I can see his face, because fuck I wish I could. Instead, all I see are the metal bars that cross the top of the wooden panel and a rhythmic thud against the wall and I realize he’s hitting his forehead against it.
This man is literally beating himself up for this.
I have no idea what internal battle he’s facing, but I have every intention of sucking every ounce of those self-deprecating thoughts from every corner of his body through this beautiful appendage of his.
“Grip onto the handle bars. You’re going to need them,” I tell him, as I wrap my fingers around the length of his cock, pulling him gently so he’s flush against his side of the wall.
I lick the salty liquid bead at the tip before I wrap my lips around the crown and push forward, taking him all the way down my throat.
His body shutters and I hold him there before pulling back and repeating.
“Oh, fucccckkk!” Another thud sounds, as his head bangs against the wall with a long hiss and more moaning, and goddamn, it’s everything.
I moan around his cock, the vibration granting me another shutter and more profanities on the other side of the wall.
“Fuck. Goddamn it,” he moans more and, Jesus, this man is so verbal. I love every bit of it. “Mmmm, so good. Fuck, that’s good,” he whispers as he repeats in different variations, and I have to admit, it’s giving my ego a massive boost.
I keep going at this pace, stopping urgently to edge him, then continue before he can pull away. He groans in both need and frustration and I can’t help but smile around his gorgeous cock as I press it further down my throat.
The sounds he’s making are like a drug and all I can think about is making sure I catch him before he leaves so we can do this in person, in a room, all fucking night long.
“Oh, Fuck. Fuck, I’m close,” I hear him spit out as he frantically taps the wall. I smile even wider at the fact that he’s done his homework and knows the etiquette, but I don’t give a fuck about getting a warning.
I. Want. Everything.
Curling my hand around his shaft, I wrap my lips over the crown, flatten my tongue behind the length, and push my head forward until the tip breaches the back of my throat again.
Breathing through my nose, I swallow, tightening around the thick crown and he moans, still frantically tapping on the wall.
“Mmmm, fuck, fuccccck.” His tone is dripping with so much lust and anger. “I’m…I’m coming,” he stutters through a heavy breath.
A hot burst of salty liquid blankets my mouth and I moan with every pulse.
Pulling out, I lick and suck, cleaning every ounce of what he gave me with so much pride. Not because I pleased him but because I love this experience for him and I hope it was good enough to stop hating himself.
Pulling further away, I throw my head back and smile, satiated and happy.
That was unbelievable.
Glancing down at myself, I’m still naked and dirty from my orgasm earlier and chuckle. I reach over, grabbing a towel from the shelf to wipe myself off.
“Well, I can honestly tell you that was the best handjob I’ve ever had in my life.” You can hear the smile in my words with my confession. There’s no response, not that I expected one, but it’s eerily silent so I look up and glance through the hole to make sure he’s not berating himself.
A burst of cool air hits my skin as I peer through and my face falls. His door is wide open, a green hue now lighting the empty space.