“Sure thing.” Frown fixed firmly in place, he releases his hold of me as he slides from the table.
“I’ll help too!” Faith yells, moving to do the same.
“No, you stay here, sis.” Jamie smirks. “You can tell Arthur all about the flying spiders.”
Gramps lunges to hold Faith in place. “A flying spider? Is that a real thing?” Faith’s ardent denial becomes background noise as I lead James from the kitchen. The state of the house is a little embarrassing, the carpet is worn, paint faded, but Jamie only has eyes for me as we ascend the stairs.
“Have you spent your whole life here?” he asks, taking my hand as soon as he feels confident no one is following.
“Yup. The hospital I was born in is five minutes away, my schools were all within walking distance and the first girl I kissed lives two doors down. This neighborhood has been my home as much as this house has.” We make it to the landing and I point towards my room, the puck and stick decorated CORY sign Mom made in her short-lived pottery era hanging on the door. “Want to see where the magic happens?”
“I thought the hockey gear had to go down stairs?”
“It does. Right after I go down on you.”
Every teenage fantasymy gay little brain ever conjured is coming to life. Jamie has me pressed against my bedroom door, one massive hand pinning mine above my head as he tears at the button of my jeans with the other.
“Why did today have to be the one time you skipped the sweats.” His gruff voice, warm breath and urgency weakens my knees.
“Laundry day. Thought I was safe. Didn’t expect this.” Each point is panted out as though I’m at the tail-end of a cardio session and not the beginning. With the button finally free, James tugs both jeans and briefs down my thighs and drops to his knees. My heart rate quadruples as he stares up at me.
“Leave the hands on the door and don’t ever dodge my calls again, Kid.” With that he slips the head my dick between his lips and hollows out his cheeks.
“Jesus Christ.” Relief washes over me and my head smacks against the timber, the dull thud undoubtedly audible downstairs. I should probably be concerned that my entire family is directly beneath us, nothing but carpet and lime and plaster laying between us. But I’m too needy to care. It’s only been a few days without his touch, but fuck. “I missed this. Missed you.”
Humming, he rolls his tongue over my tip, swirling it through the pre-cum before sealing me whole. I hit the back of his throat and he does that thing he does, where he constricts in short sharp pulses that has me seeing stars in seconds.
“Fuck you ruin me.”
Unable to follow his commands, I drop my arms and weave my hands through his hair, tugging as I begin to fuck his mouth. The consequences are swift and brutal. James grunts, pulls off me with a pop and sits back on his feet. He’s pissed and it’s so fucking hot I almost come.
“Didn’t I say hands off?”
“Yeah, but–”
He stands and grips my jaw, holding my face still as he leans in. “You’ve fucked me around the last few days Cory, and it’s time face the consequences. Hands. Off.” With an up nod he motions to the door and I follow, throwing my hands back to their original position. “That’s my good little slut.”
Holy shit.
Eyes falling closed, I almost collapse on top of him and he returns to his knees.
“This will be over real quick if you keep talking like that.” He makes no reply, just tugs me a little to cup my ass cheeks and pull me back between his lips. “Fuck your mouth is incredible.” It’s hard to imagine anything feeling better than this. The tickle of the mustache, the soft plump lips, the warm slide of his tongue. He’s doing the job my hips started, tugging me in and out, impaling himself, choking and gagging on my cock again and again. As hard as not touching him is, it’s equally blissful handing over control. Letting him do with me what he wants. When he takes me even deeper, I whimper and beg. “Yes. Yes. Make me cum, my big boy.” Heat shoots down my spine, pooling at the base of my dick, searing through my balls. “Coming.”
Release is seconds away when James slips off, resting on his heels again and wiping his mouth and tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand. As close as I was to coming, I now am to crying. “What are you doing? Why … Why did you stop?”
“Punishment.” It’s said way too casually for how hopped up I am. “Edging. Making you suffer. You choose.”
Before I can wail some more, he dives back in, this time sucking my balls into his mouth before replacing them with my dick. This delicious cruelty is repeated several times, and until I’m a sweaty, mumbling mess who’s begging for release. “Jamie, I need to come.”
His reddened eyes meet mine and he shakes his head while simultaneously sliding a finger into his mouth, caressing my dick before pulling it free and between my cheeks. “Beg.” He grins at my whimper, and likely because he knows I can barely stand, and would say and do anything at this point.
“Please, Jamie,” I whine like a bitch. “Please let me come.” He nods, his finger breaches my hole and I explode, so hard and fast cum spills from Jamie’s mouth, dribbling down his chin and neck.
Coughing and spluttering, he fists my shirts and drags me to the floor.
“You want me to?”
“I want you to clean up the mess you made.” He runs his finger from collarbone to chin, collecting the glistening cum on the tip, before bringing it to my mouth. “Open.”
