Julien finally wraps his grip around Rafael’s bare cock and pumps. It’s not fully hard yet, but it stiffens with every stroke.
Why the fuck is it so big? Sothick?
Rafael better not be expecting some deep-throating nonsense. With something so egregious, Julien can only put two inches of effort into it, tops.
A bead of precum gathers at Rafael’s slit and Julien leans forward, lapping it up. He’s not a cum expert, but it does taste better than he remembers. Less bitter, at least.
With one last glare at Rafael and the cup of water still in his hand, Julien ducks and slurps the tip, sucking the sensitive glans with abandon.
Rafael jolts and a splash of water escapes the cup, slapping against the massage table. His feet kick as they slide along the floor, but Julien remains focused on the salty taste of the cock in his mouth as he bobs his head.
Drool leaks down the length of the shaft. It helps the slide of his hands, and Julien slobbers more with every pull, wetting and twisting his fist until the entire cock is slippery with spit.
While his hands do the heavy lifting, Julien concentrates on Rafael’s sensitive head.
He points his tongue along the underside, sliding along the glans with defined attention before rocking forward and down with a broad flat stroke.
Julien makes out with the head, kissing it with plush lips, lapping up precum as it drools, and showering it with lavish affection to avoid having to suck any deeper.
Julien’s eyeline drifts upwards, hoping to spot some indication that the man will finish soon, but he pauses mid-stroke.
Rafael’s muscles strain, his torso shaking and his neck veins fully extended. Sweat drips from his hairline, and his face pulls up into a grimace as he grinds his teeth.
Julien quickly pops off his cock and asks, “What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”
“Fuckno!”Rafael nearly shouts. Quieter, he says, “No,Jesus, keepgoing!I’m so close.”
“Why is your face all—?” That’s not what his O-face looked like before, right? Julien would definitely remember if he looked so tortured.
“Because this is the best blowjob of my entirelife, but we’re in a room withthin walls.” Rafael sucks in a sharp breath through his bared teeth. “Fuck, it’s so hard to keep quiet.”
“The best—? What,this?!” But Julien’s barely even trying. He’s specifically avoiding having to do the stuff that actuallyfeels good. “This right now?Thisis the best—? You’re lying. You have to be.”
The bigger man shakes his head. “I’ve never had a man do it before. Chicks always try to deep throat the whole thing. It’s good, but it’s not—notwhateverthe fuck you’re doing down there.”
Rafael groans, and the sound rumbles down his throat, vibrating deep in his chest. “And between the cup and the brace, I can’t move. It’s justhappeningto me.Pleasekeep going. I’m so close.”
Julien ducks back down with renewed vigor. If it’s the best blowjob Rafael’s ever had, he should do a job actually worthy of the title.
He hollows his cheeks as he sucks and bobs, taking more of Rafael and meeting his own fist with his lips. His other hand breaks away from the base, and wanders past Rafael’s tight waistband to cup his balls.
Julien massages them, and the older driver finally shouts in reply, the sound drowned out by screw guns screaming in the garage.
After a long, harsh pull, his tongue pressed flat against the thick vein on the underside of Rafael’s cock, a crinkle of the paper cup is the only warning Julien receives before Rafael spills into his mouth.
Though he hates the taste and texture, Julien dutifully swallows, sucking the bulbous head as it continues to spurt.
When Rafael is finally fully spent, he relaxes, falling back against the wall. “Fuck.” He gulps down a couple more breaths and blinks.“Fuck!”
“Drink the water,” Julien orders, scrambling to his feet. He pushes the waistbands of his race suit, long johns, and briefs down until he can free his own painfully hard cock.
Rafael obeys without question, gulping down whatever was left in the cup he smashed. The mattress has a large wet spot from the rest of it. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”
“Whatever, just point it here.” Julien tugs at his aching cock, pulling slow and rough. His spit-wet hands are drying, and he gathers what precum he can to keep stroking.
Still, it isn’t enough. Not when he’s used to lube.
“Spit.” Julien holds out his palm, and Rafael immediately complies. It’s better, but not by much.
