I freeze for a moment, then continue moving, my gloved hand brushing along his collarbone and then grazing his neck gland.
"My mark is still here," I say quietly.
He stays silent. I slowly slide my hand back over his tattooed chest and then over the hard ridges of his stomach muscles, his eyes fixed on my face, saying nothing as my hand drifts down to his blanket-covered hips and lightly moves along the hard, long shape beneath it.
I hear the faint hitch in his breath before he lets it out with a slight delay.
"I’m gonna blow you now," I say in a calm, unwavering voice, lifting the pack of condoms I hold in my other hand. "Do you agree?"
A tiny twitch appears at the corner of his mouth, like he almost wants to smirk.
"I do." His voice is very low.
I slowly lift the blanket and toss it aside, exposing Bay’s shaved groin. I know gripping his cock with a gloved hand isn’tideal, but I do it anyway, wrapping my fingers around his shaft and lifting it upright.
"So much bigger than I remember from senior year…"
Silence. Bay doesn’t comment. His irises darken, the green turning almost black.
I open a condom and roll it onto his cock, then open a second and slide it on too, watching his face for any reaction. He surely gets the reference. But Bay’s expression stays calm. No surprise.
I drapes the blanket over his thighs for isolation, then straddle his lap. Pressing my fingers against the hinge of my jaw, I push it back and down with a firm, decisive shove.
Every ABO can do this—jaw dislocation for the bite-lock during simultaneous gland marking. It’s painless and easy.
Bay watches with dilated pupils, his heartbeat steadily speeding up, the only sign that my actions have any effect. I don’t give myself credit for his hardness, though. It could just be morning wood.
I lean in slowly, bracing my hands on either side of his hips, careful not to touch him.
Taking the tip of his thick cock into my mouth, I start sinking down, pushing it deeper into my throat.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t take him as deep as I want. He’s just too thick for my esophagus.
That doesn’t mean I’m not putting in the effort, heroically fighting my gag reflex.
Turns out, wearing gloves has its perks. They glide smoothly over the latex-wrapped shaft, so I’m not just sucking him, I’m stroking him too. The strawberry flavor of the condom makes it all bearable.
Even though there are two layers between us and the sensation should be dulled for him, it doesn’t look like it. Fromthe subtle cues, his breath, his racing heart, the flush in his cheeks, I know it’s hitting him hard.
When I feel him getting close, I lower my right hand into my own shorts, gripping my cock, desperately hard, begging for attention. A few strokes, and I come right as Bay lets out a sharp exhale. I feel his cock pulse in my mouth, he releases at least five thick spurts. I catch his instinctive move; he wants to reach out, to touch my head or my shoulder, but his hand drops back onto the bedding.
For a moment, I just look at him. Then I grip the rim of the condom and slide it up, careful not to spill anything; there’s a lot in there.
I stare at the thick white blob for a second.
"That was a nice wake-up surprise," Bay says, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Now that’s what I call agood morning."
"I plan to do this every day," I say firmly.
A beat of silence. Our eyes lock, glued together.
"Sounds good," he murmurs. "But I’d like to return the favor…"
I smirk. "Won’t be much of a challenge with me… but I’ll think of something."
"Make sure you do."
I sigh, standing up. Bay makes another unconscious move, like he wants to grab my hand or pull me close, but he stops himself.
