Chapter 7
The sight of this six-foot-five mountain of a man, the golden boy, the star quarterback, gagging around me is something I never dared imagine.
And here it is, happening, in a dorm room full of cardboard boxes.
North, on his knees for me, jaw stretched to the limit, those full lips wrapped tight around my cock, spit running down his chin.
He goes too deep and coughs, pulling back. My dick slides from his mouth with a slick pop. A strand of precum hangs between his lower lip and the swollen head. He grins at me. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“What look?”
“You think it’s funny that I can’t fit the whole thing in my mouth.” He catches the strand with the tip of his tongue, licking it clean like melted ice cream.
“No, I swear.”
“Then why are you smiling like that?”
“Because it feels so good.”
“Yeah? How good?” he says before ducking back down.
He swirls his tongue around the head, dipping into the slit.
I shudder. He’s watching me, gauging my reactions.
He’s always been a quick study. Whether it’s a new play on the field or, apparently, a dick in his mouth.
He takes me deep again, farther this time, swallowing around me, and I can feel the muscles in his throat working.
I can’t help but thrust up into that wet heat, my fingers tangling in the sheets, bunching the fabric in my fists.
“How good?” he repeats, muffled around a mouthful of me.
I try to form words. Sentences. “So… good, North. So fucking good. Ten out of ten.”
He’s bobbing his head now, finding his pace.
His hands are on my thighs, gripping them, holding me down, pulling me apart.
His stubble scrapes against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, sending little sparks of pain and pleasure all through me.
I can’t stop watching him. Watching my dick disappear between his lips, watching the stretch of his mouth, the flush on his cheeks, the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
When he tries to take me all the way again, he gags hard and pulls off, panting, saliva dripping from his chin.
“Fuck,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t. You’re too big.”
“It’s okay,” I say, my own breath ragged. “It’s more than okay.”
“I want to,” he says. “I really want to.” He takes a deep breath, leans back down, and takes my balls into his mouth instead.
He sucks on them, one at a time, rolling them on his tongue, while his hand, slick with spit, works my shaft.
Long, twisting strokes that are driving me absolutely insane.
My back arches off the bed, a silent scream trapped in my throat.
I reach down and run my thumb over his cheekbone, feeling the stubble rasp against my skin. He leans into my touch like a cat, groaning softly around my balls, the vibration going straight through me.
“Take your shirt off,” I say. “I want to see you.”
He releases me and pulls back, just enough to grab the hem of his shirt and drag it over his head.
There he is. All that smooth skin, all that hard muscle.
His chest is flushed, his nipples hard little points.
The muscles in his stomach are clenched tight.
He tosses the shirt aside, and then he’s back on me, all hands and greedy mouth.
He licks a stripe up the underside of my cock, from base to tip, before sucking the head back into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing.
He goes for another deep dive, and I feel it at the back of his throat this time.
Feel him fighting the gag reflex. Feel his determination.
Even in bed, he’s a competitor. This guy doesn’t know the meaning of giving up.
He relaxes his throat and takes another inch.
And another. Until his nose is buried in the coarse hair at my base.
Until my balls are resting against his chin.
His eyes snap open, looking up at me, wide with shock and triumph. He’s done it. He’s taken all of me. And, holy fuck, the sight of him like this. On his knees. My cock so deep in his mouth, I can see the bulge in his throat.
He holds it for a second, two, a tight sheath around my entire length, then pulls off, gasping for air, spit and tears running down his face. He beams, that thousand-watt smile of his. “I fucking did it, Gav. I took the whole fucking thing.”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “You did.”
“That deserves a reward, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.”
He gets up on his knees, shoving his shorts down.
He’s rock-hard, weeping. He wraps one hand around himself, then pushes his cock into my willing mouth.
I barely have time to process before the full weight of him is on my tongue.
A burst of salt. I take it. All of it. I have no idea what I’m doing.
I’m running on pure instinct. And what my instinct tells me to do is please him.
To make him feel as good as he’s made me feel.
I suck, hollowing my cheeks, trying to replicate the sensation he gave me.
I use my tongue, licking the underside, the pulsing vein, the sensitive slit.
There’s so much precum leaking from the tip into the back of my throat that I have to keep swallowing.
He’s looking down at me, watching his dick disappear into my mouth.
“Goddamn,” he pants. “Just like that. Your fucking mouth, Gav…”
I grab onto his ass, feeling the hard muscle flex under my palms, and pull him deeper, until I’m gagging and sputtering. Tears stream down my face. I don’t care. I want more. He starts thrusting, fucking my face. Drool runs down my chin, dripping onto my chest.
Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how fucking good a dick tastes?
How good it feels to stretch your lips around a big cock?
The weight of it on your tongue? The way the skin moves?
The smell of it. Clean and musky and masculine.
This. This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve been waiting for.
If I’d known it was like this, maybe I wouldn’t have wasted all this time.
I would’ve figured out I was gay ages ago.
My fingers slide between North’s ass cheeks, through the coarse hair and into the hot crevice. With my face still full, I find the tight pucker of his hole and press.
He pulls out and grabs my wrist. “Whoa, hey.” His grip is like iron. “Not there.”
“Sorry,” I say, blushing. I don’t know why I did that.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice softer. He kisses me, his lips and tongue chasing the taste of himself. When he breaks the kiss, he stays close, nuzzling his nose against mine. “That’s just… nobody’s ever done that before.”
“Sorry,” I say again.
“I’m just surprised, is all.” He kisses my forehead, my temple, the bridge of my nose. “You’re full of surprises today, Gav.”
“Sorry…”
“Stop saying sorry.” He kisses my lips, bites my lower lip. “I liked it. Just… surprised me.”
“You liked it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I just... I don’t know. Do it again.”
“You just said…”
“Fuck it. Do it again.”
I do. I wet my middle finger, then press it against his asshole, and he shudders against me, a full-body wave.
I can feel the muscle clench and release.
I keep pressing, insistent, until the tip of my finger breaches him.
He’s so tight. So warm. His entire body goes rigid.
Every muscle tenses. He’s breathing hard, his chest heaving.
I slide my finger in deeper, all the way to the knuckle.
He bites down on my shoulder, hard, muffling a cry.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Fuck, Gavin.”
“Is it good?”
“Yeah,” he pants against my skin. “Yeah. It’s… weird. But… good. Really good.”
I wiggle my finger inside him as I take the head of his cock back into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it.
His hips start to move again, a slow rocking motion, fucking himself on my finger and into my mouth.
I find a little nub inside him, and when I press it, he convulses, a hoarse shout torn from his throat.
“Oh, God! What the fuck!”
“Should I stop?” I say, letting his dick slip from my lips.
“No! Don’t. Don’t stop. Do that again.”
So I do. I press it, and he arches his back, driving himself back between my lips.
“There. Right there.” His face is a mask of pure bliss.
His eyes are screwed shut. His mouth is open.
I’m getting so turned on by this, by the power I have over him, by seeing him lose control like this, that I think I could come just from the sight of him.
But I don’t want to come yet. I want this to last. I want to live in this moment forever. North, on top of me, inside me, around me. North, everywhere.
“I want to fuck you,” I whisper against his cock. “Can I fuck you, North?”