Cliff heaved in breath; his arms strained against the chair. He signaled to Brennan that he was still hungry.
Brennan stood up, all six-foot-three of him towering over his spent frame.
Cliff wished his hands were free so he could run them down his broad chest and taut stomach. He could smell his cologne mixed with his sweat and his own come infusing the room. How did he ever fucking think he could spend his entire life without the touch of another man?
Brennan unzipped and pushed down his black jeans, too slowly in Cliff’s opinion. Finally, Cliff had a front row seat to what he’d dreamt about for years. And Brennan’s dick was even better in person. Thick and hard and pulsing and all his.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“Good. I get to plant my flag,” Brennan said with a greedy smirk. “I can’t wait to see your innocent mouth full with my cock.”
That made two of them.
Brennan tangled his hand in Cliff’s hair, holding him in place as he slid his leaking cock into his warm mouth, instantly hitting Cliff with the bitter taste of precum.
It was harder than Cliff expected, like a poker. He relished the feeling of fullness and heat in his mouth. Brennan dragged his dick out, then back in, slow moves that teased Cliff, just like he teased Brennan in his dorm room.
“How does that taste?”
Cliff moaned with a full mouth.
Brennan stood over him in complete control. He slapped his engorged cock on Cliff’s tongue, rubbed it over his top lip. Cliff ached with withdrawal.
He swirled his tongue around the thickness, unafraid to try new plays. Brennan let out a guttural grunt of approval. He jammed the rest of his cock inside Cliff, hitting the back of his throat.
“How was that?” Brennan asked with a teasing smile and eyes drunken with desire.
Cliff tried to smile back, but his mouth was busy. He tried to give a thumbs up before remembering his hands were tied. He closed his eyes and nodded his head in a blissed out paradise.
A part of him had been worried that even though he knew he was gay, he didn’t know if he would like dick, like maybe it wouldn’t be special enough since he had one of his own. Weird to say, but it was like a movielover not loving popcorn. It happened sometimes. Yet fortunately, very fortunately, that was not the case.
Brennan stepped closer so Cliff could tongue his balls. He liked those, too, the musky smell on the hair. The boy smells filling his nose. Brennan’s moan rumbled down to his cock, his body clenching to stay still. Cliff slipped one ball fully inside his mouth for a hot second.
“Yes.” Brennan groaned. “Take it.”
The slippery sounds of sex made his cock stir. Brennan dragged his fingers through Cliff’s hair, like someone falling and trying to grasp the wall. Brennan shoved his dick all the way inside Cliff’s mouth, making him cough and gag.
“You like deep throating your first dick?”
“You taste so good.” Cliff was fully hard again, the pleasure of watching Brennan, of feeling him shake with lust, too much for him. All those years seeing him around the house growing up, all that teasing, all the cool older kid energy that made Cliff admire him. Every pent-up desire he had for Brennan came rushing out.
He wanted to stroke his own cock and Brennan’s too. He couldn’t. Hands tied. Because of Brennan. It was glorious agony.
Brennan pulled out his cock. He gripped Cliff’s hair and yanked his head back. With his other hand, he jerked off feverishly. Beads of saliva and precum flicked onto Cliff’s face.
“God, fuck...fuck...Cliff.” He let out a helpless moan, his masculine force cracking for a moment.
Cliff closed his eyes, bracing for impact. Brennan’s fist tightened on his hair, pulling at the root. Streaks of hot come nailed his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips. He tasted the bitter, salty taste of Brennan, licking his lips clean.
He was a mess. He couldn’t see himself and didn’t want a mirror. But he knew he was a mess. A dirty mess, covered in byproduct of same-sex sex.
Brennan untied him. He shook out the minor pains in his wrists and arms, a little sad it was already over.
Cliff enjoyed the silence as they both absorbed what they just did. It was a comfortable quiet of two people who didn’t need to fill the space with words.
Brennan put on his boxer briefs and trotted off to the bathroom. Seconds later, he came back with a wet washcloth. He smoothed it over Cliff’s face, carefully wiping it clean.
Cliff opened his eyes. Brennan had a sheepish, dazed stare.
