I swallow quickly, immediately regretting being so forward with my words, but then his smile brightens, and… maybe I haven’t ruined it.
“Note to self,” he replies, “learn how to take a compliment from British aristocrats. They do it better than anyone else.”
I laugh, relieved, as I tighten my hold on him. His hand lands on my chest and he runs his fingers through my chest hair. He’s obsessed with it for some reason, and it strokes my ego like nothing else.
“I don’t know why, but I’d thought you’d have less body hair.”
“We don’t like to talk about it,” I say, leaning into that posh accent that Americans so badly imitate, “but my family lineage can be traced back to Scotland. The Scots are a hairy people.”
“I love the Scottish. They have the best insults.”
“That’s because they sharpen them on the British.”
“A more worthy whetstone I cannot imagine,” he jokes, brushing his fingertips over one of my nipples.
I inhale sharply and he smiles into my pec. “Someone liked that.”
“Your hands are on me. I’m going to like anything you do,” I admit, kissing the top of his head.
“Mm. Might have to test out that theory.” He briefly plucks at one nipple while tonguing the other, then turns southward. He trails kisses down my chest and belly.
“I…” I forget what I was going to say when he licks along the darker happy trail.
“Yes?” he asks, nuzzling into my pubic hair.
“I haven’t been with anyone since we met,” I say, gulping as he inhales my scent. “And my annual came back negative.”
He flicks his eyes up to mine. “Thank you. And same.”
My cock, extremely interested in his progress, starts to plump. It’s rather pale, save for the head, which flushes pink when I get excited. I suck in a breath as he takes it into his hot mouth, his suction perfect. Not too light, not too aggressive. Just perfect.
“Gael…” I choke out.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he says into the slit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.
“Me, too.”
He looks up at me, and his smile is everything. Without warning, he pivots, hiking a leg over my belly, showing me his perfect brown ass. I’m instantly in love with the sparse fan of hair at his back waist.
I can’t tell what he’s doing with his back to me, save for a delicate spitting sound. I shiver when he touches the tip of his cock to mine, then runs his hand over, bridging us together with…
“Is that your foreskin?” I cough out.
“It is. I’ve always wanted to try it with someone who is cut.” I can hear the smile in his response.
Rough, uncoordinated sounds fall from my lips as he spits again, then continues to slick his skin over my glans, back and forth, back and forth.
“I’m gonna—”
The orgasm barrels through the deepest parts of me, a violent, nasty thing.
“Gael!” I cry.
He’s made a circle of his thumb and forefinger, holding his foreskin in place over me as I come.
Spanish curses tumble out of his lips as his cock kicks against mine, then floods the same tight space with his own spend. The pressure, the heat, the wetness… I’ve never experienced anything like it, and when he releases the tight ring of his fingers, I’m drenched in our combined seed, my life forever altered.
Laughing, he sets his ass on my lower belly and melts against me, his back to my chest. We’re a mess. An entire mess, and I don’t care.
