“We’re taking a break,” he whispered, but he didn’t move his hand. “Adult conversation, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I usually keep sex and playtime separate.”
“Why, Casey bear?”
“So you can feel safe to play. Not have to worry about what I might want.”
I nodded. “Nice idea, but I only want to play like this”—I pressed his hand down harder on me—“when I feel safe.”
“We’ll work it out. We can do whatever is good for us.”
I tilted my head back to see him better, and he leaned down to kiss the corner of my mouth. His hand vanished from where I was enjoying his touch, and I shook my head. The lack of weight and friction had me out of my mind for more from him. He moved forward and slid his arms under me. I laughed as he stood and set me on the coffee table.
“What?” I gasped.
He went to his knees and rested his hands on either side of me. The blue of his eyes was almost otherworldly as they caught the soft lamplight from the corners of the room. “Let me take care of you.” He kissed my cheek.
“How?”
He went for my belt buckle, and I spread my legs on either side of his hips and leaned back on my hand to give him room. The cast was a clunky nuisance and I just tried to keep it out of the way. The caress of his hand down my stomach had me fighting to sit still. My zipper was loud as he slid it down. The button on my jeans popped open with a flick of his fingers. It was easy work for him to spread open my jeans, and beneath, my bright yellow briefs were damp with precum where the head of my cock pushed the fabric out.
“These are fun,” he said and rubbed his pointer over the quickly cooling wet spot. I shook all over the place like he was punching instead of caressing me, and finally arched off the table in search ofmore. He chuckled.
“Uh… please?”
“You need a kiss here?”
I panted and groaned. He only lifted an eyebrow, and I laughed. “Yeah. Please?”
“Can’t leave you like this. You’ll never get a good night’s sleep. Growing boys need that.” He winked and tugged at my jeans. I lifted myself up as best I could, and he worked my pants and underwear down to my knees, leaving me exposed. He hadn’t seen all of me last night and he stared. A lot. My cheeks heated. I thought my junk looked okay, as far as dicks and balls went. My shaft bobbed all on its own like it was trying to get his attention, and I whined at the sweet contractions at the base of my dick. I loved that sensation so much I tensed the muscles and waved my dick at him on purpose a second time.
Casey chuckled. “Don’t look worried. You’re as pretty here as you are everywhere else,” he said, his words a quiet rumble. It was silly how relieved that small compliment made me, but with that last worry gone, all I could think about was how hard and ready I was for him.
He scooted the entire table back across the floor and I gasped. I could tell why he’d done that as he bent forward. There hadn’t been enough room between the table and the couch for him—not really. He was that fucking big. My balls zinged with a strange pleasure, and I swore it wouldn’t take much for me to come already.
“Casey bear,” I sighed, and I wanted to touch him so badly that I used my fingers on my hand in the cast to do it. He lifted my shirt and pressed a kiss to my naval that had me laughing. “Your stubble is scratchy.”
“Is it?” he asked against my skin, and I almost shoved him off at the squirmy tickle he caused. I held my breath as he carefully took my dick in his hand near the base and angled me upward. My mouth fell open as he dropped his jaw wide and went down on my hard flesh. The heat and wet suction destroyed me. There was no working up to it—just nothing, and then bliss. Lightning streaked through my body so fast it cramped my stomach, and my asshole spasmed.
The sound of him slurping his way back up and then sucking me in again added a dirty music to everything that had my toes curling. His spit dribbled down my shaft, and I loved the mess. He worked his mouth down on me until my cockhead slipped into the most amazing tight softness, and then he swallowed.Fuck, is that his throat?I curled forward and squirmed, trapped by a barrage of delicious spasms deep in my body at the base of my cock. The tension in my groin forced a yell from me.
“Gonna. Fuck, Casey!”
He didn’t stop, and I catapulted over the edge. Pleasure battered me. My cockhead throbbed and fever swept me. I fell back and my head was hanging off the other side of the table as I gasped and tried to push farther into his throat. I shook, and my feet kicked and he just kept going until I sank, wrung out and exhausted, against the table. Red-faced, he eased his lips up and off me. I caught one look at my half-hard dick slipping out of his lips and then let my head hang toward the floor again. The blood rushed to my brain and made my vision spotty, but I didn’t care.
“All my bones are gone.”
He chuckled and kissed the head of my dick. I cried out and shook my head at the burst of crawling sensation—not good or bad, though far too fucking much. “This one’s still here. Sit up. Don’t want you hurt.” I held out my good hand, not convinced I’d be able to move. His strength got me back onto my ass and in an upright position; I had nothing to do with it. Once he was sure I was steady, he stood and pushed down his sweats.
The cock he pulled out was long and thick, and I was nearly a thousand percent sure it would never fit in my ass. His balls would be a handful all on their own. The thing was a fucking piece of art. “Ya yeet. Damn,” I mumbled, and he laughed as he jerked himself off fast. Watching his meat bounce and arc toward his abs had me sad that I’d already come. I was still kind of spacy from blowing my load, though, and then it occurred to me that he must have eaten my jizz. I whimpered.
“Open those lips,” he growled.
“Yes, Casey bear.”
His eyebrows slid together and he bared his teeth as he stripped his hand faster over his flesh. His balls jiggled and bounced, and I reached out to touch the soft, furry skin of his sack. I got a close-up view of his cock jerking in his fist. He let out a roar and thick white cum blasted from his slit. I flinched as the first hot, musky spurt hit my face. He sprayed my cheek and warm heat dotted my neck. It was probably in my hair, too. I didn’t fucking care. He painted me four more times and then there was a sad dribble on the tip that I leaned forward and swiped away with my tongue. The flavor of him—pure Casey—had me moaning again.
