Sloppy, wet sounds and grunts mingled in the air. Once, twice, three times more, and he was spurting his load into Jared’s mouth. Shivers traveled up and down his spine, setting fire to the ends of his nerves. He growled and shuddered, the sensations so overwhelming he lost his balance.
Lightheaded, with his back resting against the wall, Dylan’s lungs struggled to get some air, but he loved the burn. He fucking loved it.
Minutes, or maybe hours, ticked away before Dylan reluctantly let go of Jared’s hair. He wasn’t ready for this moment to end. Not yet. Not while this impressive yet delicate man was so very enjoying his taste, groaning around his softening cock.
But then, reality hit Dylan and the rush of endorphins flooding his cells vanished, only to be replaced by a feeling of dread—no top had ever sucked him like that.
Sure, there were some that didn’t mind giving head. Others, like him, liked to switch from time to time. But he had never been that lucky. No man that wanted to fuck his ass had ever given him such a perfectly obscene blow job.
“Jared…” His voice came out hoarse.
“Hm?” He was still on his knees, tucking Dylan’s dick back in and fixing his clothes.
“Tell me you’re not a strict bottom, please…”
Under different circumstances, or with someone he didn’t crave so badly, he would have played it cool, but he was too moody to care about his façade and didn’t want to get his hopes up.
A sly, crooked grin tugged up the side of Jared’s lips when he stood up. With his thumb, he coaxed Dylan to open hismouth, only to devour him once again. This time, however, it was wet. Actually... more than that. It was warm and dribbling.
Holy fuck.
Dylan almost melted at the foulness of this act. Their tongues rolled, playing with his cum. The combination of their bodies pressed together and the scent of sex engulfing them sent him to another world.
So fucking indecent.
Completely out of breath, they pulled away, a thread of saliva, or semen—who the fuck knew—connecting them. Jared licked Dylan’s lips and chin, taking his time, sure to get every last drop.
“I am not. And can’t wait to show you when we get home.”
7. The one over the kitchen counter
Like a kid onChristmas, Jared had spent the rest of the day too excited for what was to come. Yeah, okay, that comparison was disgusting, but it was what it was.
After months of secretly longing to touch Dylan, and the kiss that undeniably changed the synergy between them, Jared was ready to jump onto the crazy train of sporadic wild sex.
With the heartbreak he’d gone through over the past few weeks, Jared didn’t have any expectations for his future romantic life. He just wanted to focus on himself. Love was overrated, and it felt like the biggest lie in history.
People should come with warning labels: “Cheater”, “Fake”, “Helpless piece of shit”, “Fucking hazard to your mental health”. It would be so much easier to navigate life like that.
Somewhere in the back of his mind though, his conscience was telling him this was a paper-thin and super unstable wall of self-preservation. That in reality, he’d like to find his person at some point. That he wanted to believe in love again, even if he was hurting now.
Until that happened, he was more than happy to fool around with Dylan. They were on the same page. The man had been burned several times, and at thirty-seven he’d embraced his solitude, admitting that it was better than being in bad company.
Jared agreed. Although deep down, for some unknown reason, it stung. But he didn’t pay much attention to this flicker of emotion. It was totally ego bullshit. He just needed to be seen, more so now, after the whole cheating drama left him with a crippling lack of self-esteem. All his insecurities had resurfaced with a vengeance, ready to ruin everything he’d achieved. This was definitely not something he thought he’d have to deal with again at his age.
He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let his past mistakes define his future. And maybe some people would argue it was stupid to seek validation in a fling. But why let the chance to have fun slip between his fingers?
Sex can sometimes be a lot more complicated than we want to acknowledge. It can be weaponized or denied. It can be used as a bargaining chip, or it can be an act of possessiveness. Even between two lovers, in its simplest form, sex is usually always accompanied by an immense array of other feelings.
Sure, the greed biting him lately was an attempt to feel better about himself. To feel wanted, desired, and self-assured because he was getting attention from an incredibly stunning man like Dylan. But he was also truly attracted to him. The idea of touching him, of reveling in the sensation of their naked flesh rising in flames, had been haunting his dreams.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jared released a sigh that weighed too much on his chest for a bunch of minuscule particles of air.
His fingers drummed relentlessly on the steering wheel as he inched forward in the never-ending line of vehicles. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard for the gazillionth time.
The worst thing about driving to work was the stupid traffic jams, which were even more terrible at the end of the day. He could be stuck there for an extra thirty minutes, and that’s if no accidents happened. It was ridiculous. Still, it was better thantaking the train, where he’d spend around an hour and a half on each trip.
He hated it more today, of all days, though.
