This being Deacon, however, with his body curled into my side and his fingers massaging my sac—I feel wholly out of my element and therefore a little too turned on.
“Easy,” I whisper.
He pops off to grip my shaft and give it a series of long, wet licks. Precum is already spilling. I don’t have to see it to know it’s a lot. “This is a bad idea,” I say, suddenly remembering why we shouldn’t be doing this. He likes Isaac. Isaac likes him. They’d be good together. I’m in the way. I don’t want to be some pawn they use to do damage to each other the same way my parents used me growing up. I need to find my way out of this, not sink deeper into it.
But Iamsinking.
Deacon hums along my length, planting lingering kisses as he goes. Instead of tugging at his hair, I run my fingers through it again and again to cool this off. His hair is so soft. Softer than it looks.
“Seriously,” I tell him. “We shouldn’t.”
“Do you not want to?” He sucks on my tip again, and I crumble.
“I do…I do want to. Of course I do.”
I tried. Sort of.
One by one, he feeds himself my balls, taking his time sucking delicately and then more aggressively.
I can barely stand it. My hips move restlessly. My breath is heavy and quick. When he rubs my cock again, the entire shaft is sticky. “You gush,” he says, licking me again.
Oh fuck.
“You taste good,” he says. “Really good.”
“Thank you,” I choke out in a whisper.
“I’m ready for the rest whenever you are,” he tells me, still fondling and kissing.
I’m way too ready. I’m gonna fucking explode.
My restraint snaps. “Put it back in your mouth.”
He engulfs me, immediately taking me to the back of his throat without so much as a cough. When he pulls back, I thrust back in, and he takes it with a lustful groan. It’s tacit permission, or at least I think it is, to go as hard as I need to.
Like I said, I’m not the most experienced at shoving my cock inside anything but my own hand or the occasional toy for one specific fan or another, but my body reacts all on its own, fucking up and into his mouth—his throat—while he tightens his lips around me and starts moving his head in slants and turns that drive me fucking wild.
My hand is gripping now, a chunk of his hair caught in my fist. “Fuck,” I groan. “Fuck.Fuck.”
My ass clenches as my hips lift and tilt, aiming straight for his vocal cords. He only sucks harder. The release builds deep in my pelvis, and when it blasts, it feels like I’m snapping in half, buckling forward as his mouth grips me even harder to keep me in place. Gush after gush of my cum shoots into him as he licks and slurps and hums and takes every single drop.
I’m writhing beneath him, against him. I’ve let go of his hair, and I’ve got a grip on the base of his neck as my dick continues tospasm with aftershocks—some easier than others to get through. I’m a mess of disconnected sounds and twitches and fluttering eyelids.
As my body settles, my mind turns to mush. All I hear myself saying is “You, you, you.”
“Where do you want me?”
“Come on my dick. Come on me.”
He uncurls his body and reaches into his pants, extracting his big, swollen erection.
“Or however you want,” I ramble.
He smiles at me, his dimples deep and mesmerizing. “Let me see that ass.”
I turn to my side, past caring what he wants to do with my ass. Everything is on the table. He pulls my shorts the rest of the way down, exposing it. “Goddamn, Evan… That’s so fucking hot.”
“Come on me,” I say again.
