“Are you fucking kidding? Don’t you dare stop, man. Don’t you dare.”
He pushes on the back of my head, and I open wide, taking him in as far as I can. I try to copy what we just watched in the video, using my hand to pump the base while I work the rest with my mouth. It’s awkward at first. I gag when he hits the back of my throat, and my jaw starts to ache immediately. But I’m determined.
I find a rhythm, a bob-and-swirl that seems to work, judging by the way Chase is writhing on the bed above me, muttering a stream of curses. I look up at him through my lashes, and the sight of him with his head thrown back, chest heaving, one hand gripping a pillow and the other fisted in my hair makes me forget all about my aching jaw. I redouble my efforts, taking him deeper, letting him fuck my face with short, shallow thrusts.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying it. Never in a million years would I have imagined being on my knees for another guy. But there’s something about Chase, something that makes me want to do all sorts of things I never thought I wanted.
And to think I was worried, after the Brittany fiasco earlier, that I’d be numb. That I wouldn’t be able to feel anything for a while. But I feel plenty. I feel more than I can process. My brain is flooded with chemicals—dopamine, serotonin, and adrenaline—and I feel more alive than I have in months. Maybe ever.
“Fuck, Finn. That mouth. You sure you haven’t done this before? Because holy shit, dude. You got skills.”
The praise sends a wave of warmth through me, and I moan around his cock, my hand moving faster, gripping him tighter. I want to make him feel good. To thank him. To tell him I appreciate his trust and that I don’t think I could have gotten through today without him. But my mouth is full, and I can onlycommunicate with the bob of my head, the swirl of my tongue, the twist of my fist.
He seems to understand, though, if the way he groans my name is any indication. “Right there,” he whispers. “Don’t stop. Right there.”
I take a deep breath and go for it, forcing myself to take him all the way to the hilt, my nose buried in the dark curls at the base of his dick. I hold my breath for as long as I can, my throat constricting around him, then pull back, gasping for air, strings of saliva and precum connecting my lips to the head of his cock.
“You’re a fucking natural,” he says, his voice ragged. “If this is you practicing, then goddamn.” He pushes me onto my back, right next to the laptop, then braces himself over me like he’s about to do a push-up, his cock hanging right above my mouth. “And you know what they say about practice. You do it again, and again, and again, until you master it.”
I let out a chuckle. “Is that your excuse to get your dick in my mouth again?”
“It’s a good one, isn’t it?”
“Well, lucky for you I’m an overachiever and?—”
But before I can finish my sentence, he lowers himself, feeding me his cock, and I’m back to work.
“Shut up and suck that cock,” he groans.
I’m happy to oblige. I open wide to welcome him, my hands gripping the hard muscles of his ass to guide him. His whole body trembles as I suck him deep, my tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge of the head. He starts to move, a steady rhythm, and I meet him thrust for thrust, taking him all the way in. The head of his cock brushes against the back of my throat, and I don’t gag this time. I just take it, my body remembering, adapting, learning what he likes.
He’s muttering a steady stream of filth now, a litany of dirty words that would make a sailor blush. And I’m eating it up.Every. Single. Word. The words that come out of his beautiful mouth, the sounds he makes when he’s inside me, the way he looks at me with those dark, hungry eyes. It’s a lot. A whole fucking lot.
But it’s not too much. I can take it. I want to take it. I want to take it all. Every inch of that fucking python. Every filthy word that falls from his lips. Every drop of precum he feeds me.
He leaks so much. I didn’t know a guy could leak so much. It’s like a fountain of precum, and I’m the thirsty traveler in the desert. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats my tongue, my throat, my lips. It’s all I can taste. All I can smell.
The sounds I’m making are obscene. Wet, slurping, gagging sounds that I didn’t know I was capable of. Nothing like the delicate sounds I made with Brittany. This is primal. Visceral. Animalistic. I’m devouring him.
“Jesus, Finn, you were starving for that, weren’t you?” he growls, the muscles in his arms cording as he holds himself above me. He’s watching me, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, a look of pure, unadulterated lust on his face.
I can’t answer. Not with my mouth full. But I give a hum of agreement around his cock. Because he’s right. I was starving. I didn’t even know it. I was just walking around, thinking I was satisfied, thinking I had everything I wanted. But I hadn’t. I was missing this. I was missing a big cock down my throat.
“Just like that. Take that fucking cock. You’re so good at it. So fucking good.”
I close my eyes and let myself go, let him take control, let him use my mouth for his pleasure. He’s not holding back anymore. He’s fucking my face with a vengeance, and I’m letting him, my hands gripping his ass, my nails digging into the firm flesh.
The laptop is still playing, forgotten on the bed next to us, the moans of the two guys in the video a pale imitation of the real thing. The real thing is right here. The real thing is in my mouth,in my hands, in my hair. The real thing is panting above me, his heart pounding so hard I can feel it through his thigh pressed against my cheek.
It’s all a blur. A wet, hot, messy blur. I lose track of everything, the world narrowing down to the delicious friction of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth. I’m not thinking anymore. I’m just feeling. Just being. Just existing in this moment, with him.
Then Chase pulls out, suddenly, leaving me feeling empty and exposed. I gasp for breath, saliva and precum dripping down my chin and onto my chest. I look up at him, confused, my lips swollen and bruised. My hard dick throbs between my legs, a silent cry for attention.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“Nothing’s wrong.” His chest is heaving, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I was almost shooting my load down your throat, man.”
“I don’t mind.” It comes out a little too fast.
