Twin globes peek out at me. Mounds of muscle cloaked in pale skin.
It’s a thundering, heart-pounding sight that makes me feral. I don’t mean feral in a human way. Not feral in a way that describes human behavior minus social conditioning. I mean feral in an animal way. A wild way. A savage way that causes my thoughts to fade and makes me claw at his ass. At his skin. At every part of him I can get my hands on. Not just with my hands, but my mouth too.
In my stupor, I tug at his shirt, pulling it down like I did his pants, instead of pushing it up. Thank fuck he’s still human, or if he’s not, he’s closer than I am because he has the presence ofmind to wrestle his top out of my grip and pull it off over his head, tossing it onto the floor.
I harpoon his ass cheeks, roughly at first. Rough enough to leave pink marks on smooth skin. Pink marks that make me pause. That make me slow down. That make me stroke him softly and gently and lean in and kiss him until I swear to God I’m almost suffocating and he’s still nowhere near as close as I want him.
My vision blurs and comes into focus, blurs and comes into focus. It takes me the longest time to work out that it’s not my vision determining whether I’m able to see, it’s whether my face is smashed into his ass or not.
I swipe a hand across him from the left to the right. The line between his cheeks smudges from the effort, and when I bring my hand back to do it again, I hold his left cheek in one hand and use my right to spread him.
A shadow appears in front of me, a line that leads my eye down. A dark valley punctuated by a little star. A little knot that seals him.
The sight slams into me like a freight train. Like a large piece of machinery moving at speed. The second I see it, I recognize it as something I’ve wanted for much, much longer than I realized.
I kiss his ass cheeks and moan from a throttled desire that bubbles up from wanting so many things at the same time.
I want his back and his front. His dick and his ass. I want his muscle and skin. His laughter and his soft sighs. I want him arching and bucking. On his back and on all fours.
I want to kneel for him, like I am now, and I want to offer him whatever he wants. I want to be to him what he is to me.
A consuming, overwhelming fixation.
An obsession.
I want him to want me the way I want him.
I want him to feel the way he makes me feel.
I turn him gently, nudging his hip to get him to face me. The view from down here is spectacular. Awe-inspiring. Connor looks strong from my knees. The muscles in his thighs pleat and form dips near my face, so do the lines that travel up his abdomen. Mostly, though, his balls and raging erection obscure my view and make it so I hardly see anything else.
He has a nice dick. A really nice dick. Straight with a slight curve. He’s uncut, and it suits him. There’s something intensely masculine about it, yet also vulnerable.
I like it.
Fuck. I like it so much.
His foreskin is retracted to expose his swollen pink head. It’s fat and stocky, but not threatening. It’s inviting. It’s the kind of thing that looks like it needs my hand wrapped around it.
Or my mouth.
Or maybe even my ass.
The thought shocks me a little because it’s not something I’ve wanted before. Not actively. Not consciously. It’s not something I’ve really given much thought to, but now that it’s an option, it’s big and obvious. A consuming concept. An enticing notion that tugs at my organs. At my insides. It makes my blood thicken and burn, and my thoughts slow to nothing.
What would it be like to be with him like that?
What would it feel like to have him inside me?
I curl my hand around his base and test the weight and give of his dick. It has a nice heft to it, and when it’s hard, so hard, there isn’t much give at all. It’s meat and muscle that’s been pulled tight. Smooth skin that slides over sinew as I move my hand up and down. I watch, spellbound, as I do it.
I like it in a way that’s hard to describe. A way that feels similar to the way I felt when I first saw Connor’s picture. Like I needed more but didn’t know why. Like I couldn’t look away. Like I couldn’t stay away.
What I’m doing with my hand is almost embarrassingly simple, but it’s commandeered my attention like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever been involved in. The most thought-provoking, captivating thing I’ve ever done.
I raise my hand, and his foreskin slides up to cover most of him. I push my hand down, and his head peeps out at me.
It’s fucking incredible.
