I felt my cock throb at his words. The idea of teaching Kent, of being his first in this way, sent a thrill through me that I didn’t know I needed.
“Okay,” I said, shifting off him to kneel beside the bed. “Come here.”
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress so he was sitting in front of me. I reached for his belt, working it open slowly while maintaining eye contact. His breathing had gone shallow, his pupils blown wide with anticipation.
“First rule,” I said, popping the button on his jeans. “Pay attention to how your partner reacts. Everyone likes different things, so you need to learn what works.”
Kent nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress.
I eased his zipper down and he lifted his hips so I could pull his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. His cock sprang free, already hard and leaking. I wrapped my hand around the base, giving it a slow stroke, and he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
“Second rule,” I continued, watching his face. “Start slow. Build up to it.”
I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his hip bone, then the crease of his thigh. His muscles tensed under my lips. I took my time, kissing and licking everywhere except where he wanted me most. His cock twitched against my cheek, and I could feel him trembling with restraint.
“James,” he breathed. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Stop teasing me.”
I smiled against his skin. “But teasing is half the fun.”
Finally, I gave him what he wanted. I licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, base to tip, and his hips jerked forward involuntarily. The taste of him flooded my senses, a tantalizing mixture of salt and musk. I circled the head with my tongue, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there.
“Fuck,” he gasped, one hand flying to my hair.
I took him into my mouth, just the tip at first, sucking gently. His grip on my hair tightened, not pulling but holding on like he needed something to anchor himself. I relaxed my throat and took him deeper, inch by inch, until my nose was pressed against the coarse hair at his base.
The sound he made was obscene. It was a low, desperate moan that went straight to my own cock. I pulled back slowly, using my tongue to trace the vein on the underside, then took him deep again. I established a rhythm, bobbing my head while my hand worked what my mouth couldn’t reach.
Kent’s breathing had turned ragged, his hips starting to thrust in small, stilted movements like he was trying not to fuck my face but couldn’t help himself. I pulled off with a wet pop, looking up at him.
“You can move,” I told him. “Just don’t choke me.”
His eyes were glazed, pupils completely blown. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, I took him back in my mouth and relaxed completely, letting him take control. His hand tightened in my hair and he started to move, shallow thrusts that gradually grew deeper as he got more confident. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard, and he cursed.
“God, James, your mouth—” He cut himself off with a moan.
I reached down to palm my own cock through my jeans, desperate for some friction. The sight of Kent coming undone above me, the weight of him on my tongue, the way he was tryingso hard to be gentle even though I could tell he wanted to let go… It was almost too much.
His rhythm started to falter, his thrusts becoming erratic. “I’m close,” he warned. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
I doubled my efforts, taking him as deep as I could and swallowing around him. That was all it took. He came with a shout, his cock pulsing as he spilled down my throat. I swallowed it all, working him through it until he was twitching with oversensitivity.
I pulled off and sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Kent looked wrecked with pleasure. His hair was mussed from my hands, his chest heaved, and his eyes were half-closed in pure delight. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
“Holy shit,” he panted. “I… I didn’t know it could be that?—”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Good?”
“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He reached down, pulling me up onto the bed beside him. His hand found the bulge in my jeans. “Your turn.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” He was already working at my belt, his movements less practiced than mine had been, but no less eager. “Show me how.”
