“Shouldn’t it be wetter?” Marcello holds my gaze as he pulls back slightly, lowers my dick so his mouth is above it and spits on the top of the head. “Maybe that will help me do this.”
I’ve barely recovered from him spitting on me as he pulls the crown of my penis into his mouth and wraps his lips tightly around my shaft.
“I’m starting to think you don’t really need a teacher,” I comment as I stroke his cheek with one hand while pulling up my T-shirt so I can get a better look at him. “But do you want to know what I would do if I was you right now?”
He nods, eyes widening with what I am pretty sure is hunger and curiosity.
“I’d swirl my tongue around the head. And alternate that with sucking, like it’s your favourite ice lolly.”
Marcello closes his eyes as he does exactly as I suggest and I press my back against the fridge, suddenly needing a bit of support. I moan loudlyand tilt my hips towards Marcello, careful not to thrust further into his mouth.
I wonder if he’s happy with the noise I just made, and that’s why he repeats these alternating actions over and over again, earning more moans from me. Whatever the reason, Marcello keeps doing what he’s doing, even when he then brings his hands up to my waistband and pulls my shorts all the way down. When they are pooled at my feet he leans back again, and after a deep inhale, he looks up at me.
“Do you like your balls being licked or sucked?
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Both. I like both.
He dips his head down and licks one of my balls. “Jesus, you’re completely bare here. And fuck you smell good.
There’s more licking, and kissing and the most delicious gentle sucking. When he continues this but also starts pumping my dick, I curse and groan again
“Is this okay?” he asks, coming back up
I quickly whip my T-shirt off and cup his chin. “It’s so good. You’re driving me fucking wild.
“Really?” The disbelief in his voice almost kills me.
“Yes, Marcello.” I bend down to kiss his lips. “You are making me feel so good.”
“Could you… could you come like this?”
I nod.
“Do you want to?”
“Doyouwant me to?” I ask.
“I think so.” He looks uncertain, which isn’t good enough for me.
“You don’t have to. Plenty of people prefer not to have people come in their mouths.”
“I want to try. I’m curious.” He rolls his hand over the saliva-slick head of my dick, and I watch it get darker, more blood filling it. “But if I don’t like it, please don’t take it personally.”
“Never,” I say.
And then there’s no more talking. Marcello’s mouth is back on me, sucking and swirling and his fingers caress my balls. I’m torn between looking down, watching him, and closing my eyes and losing myself in the spine-tingling pleasure he’s giving me. Because that would be so easy. I have no urges to count or to clean. I’m not thinking about anything but how good his mouth feels, how firmly his hand grips my base and how every now and then he himself moans, or mutters something Italian I don’t understand and the vibrations of his voice reverberate through my dick.
And then… Then he glides one of his hands up my body, taking its sweet time like it’s the journey of a lifetime until he finds my nipple. He pulls on it. Pinches it. Plays with it.
And it’s the key that unlocks my orgasm.
“Fuck, Marcello.” I grip his chin. “I’m going to come. Move if you don’t—”
He tightens his hold on my dick and his mouth stays where it is, wrapped around my head as he makes a defiant little noise. When his eyes look up and catch mine, I let myself fall into the climax.
And it does feel like I’m falling. Free-falling. I know there’s a crash to come, but I don’t care. I will take this flying sensation for as long as it lets me soar as my whole body clenches and releases, clenches and releases, and my dick pulses inside Marcello’s warm mouth. My mind is blissfully empty and yet full at the same time. Full of Marcello’s hands on my thighs and those beautiful brown eyes looking at me like I’m the sun.
“Oh, fuck,” I say when I finally start to feel like I’m coming back to Earth.
