“Exactly,” I said, carefully disentangling myself so I could get on the floor. I was careful not to react when the movement tugged at my sensitive wound, but thankfully, I didn’t need my left arm or shoulder to give him head. Just as thankfully, I knew the padding under the carpet was thick enough that my knees weren’t going to get sore.
I was smart enough to grab his pants and give them a tug. Dom sat there until I gave him a dirty look, which earned a grin from him because we both knew there was no way I was going to be able to manhandle him out of his jeans without assistance.
“Oh goddamn,” I muttered when the jeans came free, and I saw not plain underwear, but the strap and pouch of a jockstrap. “Really?”
“What?” he asked with a frown as he stared down at his lap.
“A jock?”
“What?”
“Really?”
“They’re comfortable and needed in the ring.”
“You’re not in the ring.”
“They’re also really great for keeping everything in place when I’m training or working out.”
“Also not doing either of those things.”
“Fine, I’m behind on my laundry, and this was the only clean pair of underwear I had left, alright? Was weird as hell to behelping out at the hotel, feeling like my ass was hanging out for anyone to see, even though I was wearing pants. You really hate them that much?”
“Hate?” I asked as I got on my knees between his legs. “You misunderstand. I love them. But on you? God.”
It was cliché to say, but I could certainly think without recrimination that his thighs were thicker than my head, and not by a small amount either. They were thick and corded with enough muscle that even small movements made them dance under his skin as he adjusted his position. It looked like he was smuggling a small animal in the pouch, and I sincerely hoped for his sake that whenever he had to wear a cup, he never got hard, because the fabric only offered so much space for his hard dick, and I was sure it wasn’t comfortable.
“Here,” I said softly as I laid my hand over the pouch. It was definitely a jockstrap made for someone who wanted to use it for its intended purpose rather than for show, like so many guys I’d been with. The fabric was scratchy and a uniform color, but that didn’t stop me from loving the feel of his hard cock pushing against the fabric…and against my palm.
As much as I loved it, I reminded myself it probably wasn’t comfortable, and carefully curling my fingers under the edge, I shifted it aside so his dick could finally be free and breathe. Dom let out a soft noise of appreciation, confirming my thoughts. Apparently, it had been so confined, as soon as it was free, his cock rapidly stretched along his thigh before coming to a stop and bouncing slightly as he adjusted his leg.
“Fuck,” I breathed, running my hands up his thighs before giving in to the overwhelming temptation to wrap my hand around his cock. “Do you remember when you asked if I was attracted to you because we were close or if I thought you were actually hot?”
“Sort of?” he said, frowning. “Why?”
“It was both, it was always both because how thefuckcould I not see this absolute buffet of masculine sexiness spread out before me and not be turned on?” I asked as I began to pump him slowly.
“You’re going to say crazy shit like that, but accuse me of being arrogant?” he asked, but I could tell from the smirk that he was not complaining.
There were plenty of things I could say to that, but I decided we had both waited long enough. Leaning forward, I kept my grip around the base of his cock and brought it to my mouth. A faint but rich smell of soap still lingered as I wrapped my lips around the head, but all I could taste was skin and the faint but pleasant, almost salty taste of his excitement as I took him into my mouth.
If there was one sex act I had ever been close to freely engaging in without fear of danger, it was giving someone head. I held the power, or more specifically, I held a vulnerable and much beloved part of someone’s body in my mouth, alongside teeth that could bite with enough force to sever a digit if necessary. So it was something I’d grown to appreciate, and allowed me plenty of practice. Practice that I was intent on bringing to the fore while Dom was here with me.
At first, he gave a few grunts when I used my mouth and my throat, slowly easing down and lube him up to make it easier. My eyes flicked up to meet his as I slid forward, taking my time but confident I could finish the job. His eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise and pleasure as he watched his entire cock slowly disappear into my mouth until I could no longer look up because my face was pushed against his hips.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he groaned, his leg twitching when I flexed my throat muscles around the shaft before pulling back to push down again. “Fuck!”
I had never been able to deep throat him when we had initially fooled around, but I did remember that when he was turned on enough, his balls were a fun addition to what I was doing. Reaching under him, I was careful to take his balls in my hand, pulling on them gently and massaging them, as I pushed him back into my throat. It built into a steady rhythm as I used my throat to grip his shaft and sensitive head.
Dom’s body was wire-tight as I moved my mouth and hands as one, feeling his leg muscles tighten and relax every time I sank to press my nose against his hips. His fingers dug into the couch, nails scratching against the fabric as he groaned harshly.
“Levi,” he breathed, and I thought perhaps he was torn between encouraging me and trying to warn me that if I kept going, I was going to have a mess. The thing was, yes, I absolutely wanted more out of this than just giving him head, but I also remembered what he was like. Maybe it had changed, but I remembered when we were younger, he could recover almost immediately from an orgasm...the first one anyway. After the second one, he was done for hours and would probably end up taking a long nap.
Dom swore violently when I ceased my steady but patient pace and began to bob in earnest, taking him all the way to the root, coming back to the head and then down again, all in one smooth, hungry motion. I could feel him throbbing against the walls of my throat, and his body was starting to twitch, his hips finally losing their fight as he pushed up into my mouth, trying not to use me but unable to help himself.
“Levi, Levi, Levi,” he rambled, and I could hear the strain in his voice. He didn’t know whether I should stop, but at the same time, he didn’t want me to; he was pleading for something he didn’t understand. I wasn’t going to give him any mercy, though, not when he was saying my name like a fervent prayer.
The last noise he made was probably meant to be my name or another vehement curse, or maybe both, but it was too strangled to make it out. His hips jerked up, and I gripped his thighs as he finally gave in and his fingers closed in my hair, pulling hard enough for it to hurt but not enough for me to care. His noises became a keening as his cock jerked and twitched in my mouth, and I felt the first blast hit the back of my throat. It was impressive enough, but my eyes widened as it continued, and I wondered if I wasn’t the only one who had gone a long time without getting off.
