“Your tongue—your mouth—on my—”
I sink my teeth into his ass, the part that curves away from his twitching hole and he writhes. “Say it, little mouse. I want to know I’m giving you what you want.”
“My asshole,” he huffs out, squeezing his eyes shut tight as though to guard against embarrassment. “Please—it felt so good when you…”
“When I—?” Iwillhear him say it.
“When you put your tongue there,” he grits out. “Please…put your tongue on it again.Please.”
“On it?” I dance my tongue lightly over his crinkled flesh again. “Or in it?”
The guttural gasp of assent is enough. I let my tongue lash him, again and again, until I cover it with my mouth and press the hard tip of my tongue against his hole. His hips push back against me, insistent and greedy, and my tongue finally undoes his quivering knot, and he begins to relax, letting me in. I pull his cheeks wider, get my tongue in deeper, and send a quick prayer of thanks that I decided to dothisinstead of fuck him—he’s so tight, still nervous even as he begs for it, so that working my cock into him, even with lashings of lubricant, would have required patience that I don’t have at the moment.
The warm, smooth thighs wrap around me, and this time I let them, standing from my seat so that I can curl Teddy’s body up, lifting him onto his shoulders, so I can watch him as I devour him—and sohecan watchmein turn.
His cock looks painfully full. I wrap my arm around his lower belly, pinning down his dick and hoisting him harder against my mouth. He lets out a groan as he wriggles around, humping my arm. His hard flesh feels like a hot brand burning into my forearm, and I thrust my tongue deep, pressing my teeth against his hole, watching with interest as his eyes roll back in his head. His hips are stuttering against me, uneven little thrusts, and I can feel his pre-cum trailing down my arm, soaking my rolled shirt sleeve.
When he sees me watching him, his eyes go wide, his mouth too—a silent protest that he dare not make, because then I mightstop. Stop making him feel this way. I squeeze him tighter in my arms, smearing my mouth over his asshole, press my teeth into the sensitive bulge between his hole and his nuts.
And then I stop, breathing hard, letting my breath gust over his hole, and I wait until he looks at me.
“Please,” he pants. “Please don’t stop.”
“Will you come for me? Will you come if I keep going?”
His eyes are glazed, unfocused. “Do you want me to?” he murmurs.
“Oh, yes. I’d like to watch your sweet little cock empty itself with my tongue deep in your ass. I’d like to watch you make a mess of that gorgeous face, watch you taste your own pleasure as I dine on you here.”
He takes a deep breath, rolling high on his shoulders, trying to press against my face again.
“You’d like that too, wouldn’t you?” I trace my tongue slowly, lightly around his hole, around the puffy ridge that is now almost pouting at the lack of attention.
“Please.”
“You’re a polite little mouse. Very well. You may come. But you may not touch yourself to do it. I want to know that my mouth, alone, can get you there.”
He almost looks as though he might cry. “I don’t think I can,” he whispers, gasping for air. I let him down a little, let him suck in a few deep breaths.
“Ithink you can. I think you are capable of doing anything I ask you to do.”
It’s the right phrase. His determination shows in the set of his brows, in the way he grabs hard at the table edge, in the way he pushes up toward my mouth.
I unwrap my arm from his belly and take his hips in my hands, stabbing my tongue back into him as I watch his dick flail and dance in the air. I rub my thumb up and down his taint, flicking at his balls, suck at his hole, get my tongue deeper in. His eyes are fixed on me, his lips moving, a sibilant hiss between his teeth that takes me a few moments to recognize: my own name,Alessandro, Alessandro, Alessandro…
I thrust my tongue hard and fast, his hole clutching back at me, and I can see that his orgasm is upon him as his whole body vibrates on my tongue, his muscles seizing and then stilling. He gives one more arch, eyes wide and astonished as he sees his dick begin to pulse. Thick strands splatter his belly, his chest, his chin—a strand across the side of his mouth, and I see his pink tongue dart out to taste.
I give his hole one last Frenching before I let his hips down and pull him up to a seated position, embrace him, lick along the streaks of cum that have painted his face. He’s dazed but laughing, his dick still drooling out the last of his pleasure, wetting my shirt as he wraps his legs around me and nestles into my kisses. My cock strains hard against the confines of my pants, but I worry that I’ve exhausted him, and so I make no move to free it.
“You’re a rare beauty,” I tell him, sucking up the last gleaming beads of white from his neck. “Yes,tesoro, you are a rare one.”
He reaches for my waistband. “Please,” he begs. “I want to taste you, too, Alessandro.”
It’s the way he says my name, worshipful, shy, his voice trembling, that destroys the last of my self-control. “And I want to fuck that beautiful face,” I tell him, my voice a low growl. He shivers, nods, lets me push him back onto the table. With a quick yank, provoking a gasp from him, I have him turned on the smooth mahogany tabletop, his head hanging down over the edge to help open his throat.
He pulls at my belt, my buttons, made clumsy by his upside-down view, until I impatiently pull them open for him, take out my thick and aching cock, and slap it against his lips. He gives a gasp, a moan, and the lips open obediently. But I take a moment to rub over his face, press his nose into my ballsack, let him get my scent all over. Some feral, territorial drive in me makes me want to mark him, mark him asmine.
Mine alone.
