He arches into me. “Don’t stop.”
I continue my journey south, mapping his body with reverent kisses. “You’re like a work of art,” I whisper against his chest. “Your skin is like silk.” My hands roam over his sides, feeling the strength in his lithe frame.
His fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me. The sounds he makes are intoxicating, spurring me on.
My mouth waters at the prospect of feeling his cock in my mouth, so I go for it. He tastes sweet, like fruit, and I know that after tonight, I will never get his smell, his taste out of my head.
I do my best to take him to the back of my throat, but he’s too long, and all I can think of is how good he would feel inside me, his beautiful length filling me and rubbing against my prostate with every thrust.
His back arches off the bed, a gasp escaping his lips. “Nghh…please…”
When I move back up to capture his lips again, his hands slide to my face. For a moment, I’m lost in the kiss. Then I feel his fingers at the edge of my mask.
Gently, I catch his wrists. “Let’s keep them on,” I suggest softly.
He pauses, then nods. “Kinky. I like it.”
I chuckle, relieved. “Glad you approve.”
He pauses. His brown eyes, even darker with desire, lock onto mine. “Speaking of approving,” he says, voice low, “I’d very much like to blow you now.”
My breath catches. “Who am I to argue with that?”
As he pushes me onto my back, I marvel at the way his body moves, all lithe grace and barely contained energy. My hands skim down his sides, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms. “I want you so badly.”
“Well, big boy, tonight I’m all yours.”
He moves down my body, his hands tracing every inch of my heated skin. He doesn’t hide his appreciation of my body, and it gives me a confidence boost.
It’s always hit-or-miss whether guys will like the lack of muscle in my belly or expect more definition.
I’m a big guy. I work outside and lead a generally active lifestyle, but trying for a six-pack was never my goal. So yeah, my belly is a little round. My ex used to say I have a dad-bod, whatever that means.
What I can see is that this guy likes it. He kisses my belly, slowly moving down, and then he stops.
“Oh, look at that, I really am in Vermont.” He traces the birthmark on my hip that looks like a maple leaf.
So, I guess he’s probably not from here, which tracks with his sun-kissed skin. I’d like to know where he’s from, but it was my idea to keep the masks on, right? I can’t ask now.
He continues his exploration of my body, getting closer and closer to my flushed cock. He grins as he strokes me, his hand doing a twisting motion that makes stars appear behind my eyes.
He flashes a set of perfectly white teeth behind his mask before my brain goes offline when he swallows my cock like he was born to do it.
“Fucking, fuck!”
He swallows around the head of my cock, and it takes everything in me not to thrust up. I open my legs, and he takes the message. Suddenly, his eyes meet mine as his finger teases my hole. Sweat beads behind my mask as the telltale signs of an impending orgasm build.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” I warn.
He stops and moves up my body, kissing me.
“What do you want, big boy?”
I hate that I can’t see his face behind the mask, but that was my idea, so I’m not backing out. His eyes are impossibly dark and begging me to make the right decision. As much as I would love him to fill me up, there’s something about the way he looks at me that changes my mind.
“I want… I need to be inside you.”
His dark-brown eyes sparkle with mischief, the warm chocolate color seeming to dance with flecks of amber in the light. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
