I’ve always loved kissing. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed someone who enjoys it as much as I do, who doesn’t treat it like an obligatory pre-game activity, but like it’s the whole point sometimes. Luckily for me, this guy seems to be equally obsessed with it, varying between soft and teasing to deep and consuming. It’s like he’s conducting his own personal study on exactly what makes me gasp.
I get so into the kissing that, despite the epic orgasm I just had, my cock rallies. It’s decided that one mind-blowing orgasm isn’t enough for the evening.
But Vader doesn’t seem to interpret my half-hard cock against him as an insult to the quality of the orgasm he just gave me. Instead, he seems to take it as a challenge because he breaks off kissing me to shuffle down my body to my groin.
Oh my god, is he going to…?
It appears he is.
His mouth is gentle and teasing, treating my cock like I’m some kind of gourmet meal he’s been waiting months to try.
One of his hands strokes the sensitive skin behind my balls, then reaches farther back to tease my hole.
Oh, holy fuck, it feels incredible. My cock is now definitely into this unexpected second act, having decided rest is for quitters.
He groans as I harden further in his mouth, which shouldn’t be physically possible, but apparently my body has decided to break the laws of physics tonight.
He continues to work me over in what has to be the best oral action of my life, somehow seeming to know exactly the right pressure and rhythm to drive me absolutely insane.
The combination of the warm heat of his mouth and the gentle touch of his fingers makes my hips buck involuntarily, torn between pushing into his mouth and pressing back against his fingers. My body’s trying to be in two places at once.
This time when I come, it feels different from the first time, slower and deeper. My orgasm is like sinking into a warm bath after being cold for months. Or like finding out there’s a sequel to your favorite movie that’s even better than the original.
Unfortunately, it appears my brain can’t handle two incredible orgasms in the space of such a short time.
Because before I can even think about how to return the favor, my eyelids are drooping. I’m fighting a losing battle against the kind of exhaustion that only comes from really, really good sex after months of really, really bad sleep.
I don’t even have a chance to summon the words to check that he’s okay with me crashing here. Instead, I slip into the sleep of someone who just had their brains fucked and then sucked out of them.
The last thing I register is Darth Vader pulling the blanket over me and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Or maybe I’m already dreaming.
When I stir again,it’s morning. Unfortunately, it appears Darth Vader doesn’t invest in blackout curtains, so the room is filled with bright, unforgiving daylight.
Shit.
Warm arms are still around me, heavy and comfortable, his breath warm and steady against my neck.
For a moment, I let myself pretend this is my life, waking up with someone who wants me here, before reality does its usual morning tap dance on my chest.
I slowly extract myself, then turn over to study him.
He’s gorgeous. But then I already knew that, having totally perved on him when I saw him in the hallway.
Gorgeous and gay, my two favorite things in a man.
I flop back on the pillow and stare at the ceiling.
What was I hoping for here? That the sex would be so spectacular that he’d want a repeat despite what he’s going to see when he wakes up?
And the problem is, the sex was spectacular. So the fact that he won’t want it again is going to devastate me. Because it’ll reinforce that even an insanely hot sexual connection won’t make a guy overlook my face.
My therapist’s words about not assuming the worst in people slide into my head.
It appears Annie still has some work to do.
An arm comes out to wrap around me, and he draws me close, back into the warm cocoon of his arms.
