It’s that moan, and the smoothness of his skin on my tongue, that smashes through any kind of restraint I have left. I give him head like my life depends on it. My hands grip his tight footballer buttocks, bringing him as close as possible and my head bobs up and down as I suck on him. I swallow him down as far as I can, and keep him there as long as possible, before moving back to lick and lap at his swollen head. He’s so hot and hard in my mouth and I play with his balls as much to tease him as I am to try and judge just how close I’m bringing him.
And all the while, Benji is whimpering above me. Whimpering and begging and pleading and trembling and shuddering, and I’ve never had such a vocal and responsive lover, and I never want to be without such noises. I fear I may never want to do this with any other person in my life.
I don’t know what happened after he explained that he’d not been talking about me at all that night, but about Raquelle, but it’s like a sky full of clouds has cleared and turned the same bright blue of his eyes. There’s nothing holding me back from chasing the sun, and the sun is this shivering, moaning man in my mouth. And I want him. Fuck, I want him, in all the ways I can possibly have him.
So rarely do my thoughts and wants gallop away from me like this. Normally, I’m trying to stay one step ahead of my desires and fantasies. I don’t indulge them unless I think they’re realistically obtainable, and so far that has worked out well in my life. After years of struggle and challenges, I took the steps I needed to finally be comfortable in my own skin. I worked hard and with dedication to have my dream job as a tattoo artist. I have stayed close to my parents to help them whenever they have needed it.
While I do think I’m not naturally inclined to relationships that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about them andwhether that was a fantasy or an obtainable reality. Love, relationships, connection all got filed away out of sight and out of mind, yes, because I didn’t prioritise them, but it’s also true I avoided them because it felt like another impossibility, that being trans, mixed race, fat, queer, alternative, there was simply too much about me that was unlovable, so why waste energy wanting something that was never going to happen?
Benji has done nothing today but suggest he is very attracted to all the things I am – trans, mixed race, fat, queer, alternative, and even, a grumpy tattoo artist. But that’s terrifying. I can’t control what will happen between us. No matter how much I may want us to be something I still daren’t name, it’s not up to only me.
Sure, Benji continues to give me all the signs he wants me; he’s mumbling my name along with incoherent curses and groans as I swallow around his head, his cock so deep in my mouth, but this moment will pass.
I’m just high on relief after the clarification. I’m just spun out on the fact this ghost from my past has come back to life. I’m just finally letting myself feel something for someone after years and years of that part of myself lying dormant.
Benji’s hands land on my shoulders. I lift off his cock.
“Did I say you could touch me?”
“Fuck, no, I’m sorry, I…I just really want to.”
“It will be your reward,” I tell him, keeping my eyes on his. “After you’ve been a good boy.”
The last two words have the desired effect on him, bringing a helpless frown to his forehead and a long moan out of his mouth. He lifts his hands off me and clasps them behind his back.
Holding his eye contact, I take his dick in my mouthagain and I start sucking slowly, punishing him for touching me without permission. I lick lazily like I’m just beginning when he’s clearly close to the end. I kiss between his small slit like he’s already come, although there’s a long string of pre-cum there for me to taste.
“Oh, God,” he groans. “Please, Dion, please.”
I take him in my mouth as far as I can, and breathing through my nose, I keep him there fluttering my tongue against his length and swallowing around that perfect red head of his.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Benji says, and I feel him try to pull back, to take himself out of my mouth.
I’m cruel and I don’t let him. Not unless he specifically says so. Instead, I wait until his balls are taut and round in my hand and his dick hardens even more in my mouth. Releasing him with a wet pop, I pull back and look up at him. His pained expression shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.
“Okay?” I ask.
He nods, still looking tormented, but I’m starting to think he likes being in this state almost as much as I like witnessing him in it. “That was…fucking heaven.”
“Back on the sofa,” I tell him, pointing to the seat next to me.
He plonks himself down and stares at his long dick, which looks painfully dark at the tip, like it’s angry with us both that it hasn’t come yet. I smile wickedly at it, at Benji as I stand. I’m about to walk over there and impale myself on his beautiful hard penis, but then reality rightly stops me in my tracks.
“We need a condom,” I tell him and he nods but doesn’t say anything else, leaving me to assume he doesn’t have one. “Stay there.”
It shouldn’t surprise me that I find a box of condoms after less than a minute of searching the staff room cupboards, and indeed the relief easily outweighs any shock I feel. I’ll interrogate, or rather tease, my colleagues about it later, but right now I have more important things to do.
When I return to Benji, I find him playing with himself, stroking his length up and down and breathing heavily. As soon as he sees me he drops his hand but his dick doesn’t go anywhere. It’s still long and hard and pointing to the ceiling. I arch an eyebrow at Benji and his eye contact goes skittish, his cheeks blushing red.
I walk closer to him. I don’t have to touch myself to know how wet I am, but I do it anyway, moving around my arousal and playing with my cock, as Benji watches, mesmerised. I hold his gaze as I lift my fingers and place them in his mouth. He sucks on them willingly, greedily, not breaking his gaze as I move to straddle him again. He hums and sighs and hisses as I roll the condom down his shaft. When I then lift up and sink down on his dick, Benji’s eyelids flutter closed and he starts whimpering in earnest. “Oh, fuck, oh, God, oh, please, Dion, that feels… oh, fuck.”
Looking down, I check that my thighs and belly aren’t moving his bag. I adjust slightly, try a few movements and once satisfied, I lean back with my hands on his muscular legs to balance myself. I smile at him as I start to move, so obsessed with the noises he’s making and the pleasure he’s so clearly feeling that it takes a second for me to become aware of the sensations I’m experiencing. He’s so long. I can feel Benji so deep inside me it comes with a twinge of pain, but a good one. One that I will control as I warm up to feeling this delicious stretch that I haven’t had in so long. Yes, I have toys, but none of them feel like this. None of them could ever make the noises Benji is making and noneof them would look at me the way he’s looking at me through half-lidded, blissed-out blue eyes.
“Please, Dion, please can I touch you?” he begs, his hands in twitching fists on the leather sofa cushions.
“Not yet,” I say and I start rocking with him inside me, feeling his length stroke me from the inside. It feels so overwhelmingly good it’s hard for me to keep my own eyes closed and my focus clear.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” he says as he meets my movements, thrusting up when I push down. “That feels…oh. God.”
