17. Indy #3
One of my hands scrabbles over the wall behind me, trying to find something to hold on to. He takes my other hand and pulls it to his head. I clutch his hair, and he moves forward, taking me deeper still.
His hair tickles my abdomen, and there’s heat and wetness and suction, and he keeps going deeper and harder.
He’s making these muffled, animalistic noises, and he’s watching me, eyes burning, cheeks flushed.
One of his hands cups my ass, and I’m halfway down his throat, and I don’t mean to thrust, but I can’t help it, and my hips snap forward.
He hums around me, somehow still looking in control of all his faculties while I’m trembling and shivering above him.
His fingers move over the crease of my ass, brushing the puckered flesh of my opening, and I let out a helpless, desperate moan. My hips thrust again.
He pulls off, and I actually fucking whine, tugging at his hair, pushing his face back into my groin.
I watch in a daze as he sucks his index and middle fingers into his mouth, slurping on them until they come out wet and glistening.
Then he’s sucking me again, hard and fast and wet, and those fingers are back at my entrance.
It’s a light touch at first. A brush.
He sucks harder.
His finger circles the rim of my hole, wet and hot and prodding. There’s a part of me that hesitates for a second because this is new, and I’m not sure I…
I could stop this, but all my words are stuck behind the burning heat in my chest and the hot tightness of Nick’s mouth around my cock.
His finger works its way inside me, and I’m not so sure about this because it feels… foreign. New. But I don’t get a say because my body has taken over, and I’m pushing back against Nick’s finger for something more.
There’s a sting of pain, but it also, somehow, feels… not good, not exactly. But promising. There’s something there. It’s the kind of irresistible curiosity I can’t fight. I’ve had my own finger in my ass, but this is not at all the same.
And all the while, Nick takes me deeper in his mouth. Sucks harder.
His finger doesn’t move in and out of my ass. Instead, it stays there. It moves around inside me, and I don’t know where to concentrate. On my dick in his mouth or his finger in my ass.
He pulls off my cock and cold air hits the overly sensitive skin. I let out a choked sound of protest.
He sits back on his haunches, one finger still in my ass, stroking me on the inside, his other hand wrapped around the base of my cock.
Somewhere outside of the boat shed a bird sings, and this is impossibly absurd, and I want to cry because the head of my cock is so sensitive, and he’s not doing anything.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asks. He moves his finger in my ass like he thinks I might need clarification on what he’s asking about.
I try to form words. Even just letters.
I end up only managing a shake of my head.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He leans forward and kisses my hip bone, and it’s so unexpectedly sweet and soft that my brain is having a very hard time computing all those different sensations.
“I could make you come so hard it’ll be all you can think about,” he says.
His voice and his words make me arch into him. I’m shamelessly begging. Shoving my dick in his face.
Please, please, please, please, please.
He wraps his lips around me and starts going down. Lower, lower, lower. Slowly. Lower still. And all the while he sucks.
His finger brushes against that spot inside me, and suddenly all I see is sparks.
I’m coming. I’m coming harder than I’ve ever come before. Sparks up my spine and in my brain. Moaning. Bending over him, my cock jerking against his tongue. Spurting.
I slump against the wall, watching Nick with a dazed look as he gets to his feet, shoves his hand into his own shorts, and starts jerking himself, and somehow the fact that I can’t see it, that the only thing I can see is the furious movement of his hand is really fucking hot.
Hot enough to make my spent dick twitch.
His eyes roam over me. The expression on his face… It’s difficult to describe it as anything other than greedy. The tight control from before is gone, replaced by need.
His eyes fall on my mouth.
And then he groans and moves forward. His arm lands next to my head, and he comes with a low, guttural groan.
We stay like that. Both panting. Both fucked.
I look down at my cock. It’s slick with Nick’s spit and my cum. Soft between my legs. My shorts are pooled around my ankles.
The aftermath is wobbly. I slide out from underneath his arm and fumble with my shorts to get them up.
When I’m done I watch him do the same, and I can’t not zero in on his fingers while he pulls up his shorts and slides his palm over the front of his shirt because there are his hands.
The hands with the fingers that have been inside me.
There’s nobody else in the world who can claim that. Just him.
I can still feel them in my ass.
My stomach jolts.
“I…” I’ve got nothing. No idea what to say. “I have to go.”
I grab my shirt and make a run for it.