And then, doing as he’s told, Darius lets his weight rest on my face. With the help of gravity, I’m able to glidemy tongue inside him, swirling around, tasting the sweet perspiration as his hole opens up for me. With my hands occupied, holding him in place and spreading him open, I’m unable to reach my aching cock. I can feel the precum on my stomach, and I thrust my hips up slightly, hoping Darius takes the hint.
I pull back for a breath, panting with pleasure.
“Grind into my face.”
Fingers wrap around my dick, stroking slowly, as I continue devouring him, and when I hear him spit, adding some slickness to his hand, I reward him by burying my tongue even deeper. Then, with his free hand, Darius reaches back, losing his hand in my curls, tugging, pulling me up, inside his perfect hole. We find a steady rhythm, him jerking me while pushing back, fucking my mouth with his ass.
“Peterson, fuck.” He moves forward, and I pull back, replacing my tongue with two fingers. “You’re blowing my mind.”
“Remember when you wanted to fuck me in Rhode Island?”
My fingers are inside him, just past the knuckles, clearly doing a good job, because with the next plunge, his entire body trembles. He fucking trembles.
Darius pauses the attention he’s giving my cock. “Yeah.”
“Get me ready, Coach. I want to tap in.”
I bend my knees, then lift my legs, giving him access to my ass, and like a good coach, he leans forward, spitting on his fingers and teasing my hole.
“Hang on,” I say.
Hoping this would happen, I planted supplies under the sofa. With a quick swipe, I grab the tube of lube and pass it to him. “Here. Get me ready for your fat cock.”
“It’s fat?”
“Thick. Meaty. Plentiful. Perfect. Shall I continue?”
He laughs, and the cap clicks open. I hear him squirt lube onto his hand, and then he’s inside me. A single finger at first. He’s being gentle, careful. I take the lube from the rug and apply some to my fingers and his hole. He’s open from the rimming, and with the addition of lube, I easily slide three fingers in.
“Like this,” I say. “Open me up.”
He adds another finger, going deeper, mimicking what I’m doing to him.
“This good?”
“Fuck,Darius, yes. It feels amazing. Go for it.”
With that, he goes further. Spreading my ass, adding a third finger as my pelvis raises higher, urging him on.
“Darius, I want you to fuck me. Hard. Fuck me like you’ve wanted to for the last four years. You up for that, Coach?”
He twists his fingers inside me, my hole hungry for more. “Hell, yes.”
13
DARIUS
This is notwhat I expected after the last week with Harry. He was just starting to let me in, the dinner and skating was so . . . innocent. Sweet. Holding hands on the ice. Kissing in my car in front of his building. When he invited me over, I figured we’d eat some pizza and watch a smarty-pants movie that would fly over my head.
Nope. Instead, I’m in my jockstrap, squatting over his face, while we both finger bang each other into oblivion.
It’s fucking hot as hell. Harry, with those damn curls and innocent face bossing me around. Smelling every inch of me, even though I’m a sweaty mess from practice. People think coaching peewee means you’re just on the sides screaming at the kids the entire time. It’s actually the opposite. I demonstrate every movement, making sure they understand the technique and feel confident before trying it themselves. It’s my job to actively engage and guide them through each step, creating a learning environment where they can absorb and mimic the skills in real time.
Kinda like what Harry’s doing right now with my hole.
“Fuck, Harry, you’re, you’re . . .”
“You like that, Coach?”
