He wanted to feel Noah’s cock surge and spurt as he came. He wanted to hear the little noises Noah made.
He wanted everything.
Noah’s hands in Ramin’s hair grew slacker. His dick flexed erratically as Ramin brought him to the brink.
“Ramin,” he grunted. “I’m close.”
Ramin’s body was on fire. His nerves were buzzing. His ears were full. There was only him and Noah, only skin and tongue and lips and lust.
“Ahhhhh,” Noah hissed, and then he was coming, his dick swelling and pulsing against the confines of Ramin’s throat. He ground his hips against Ramin’s face. Ramin’s dick clenched in his pants, but he fought back his orgasm, focused on Noah, on swallowing the load he’d worked so hard for, on making Noah’s every moment the best he’d ever had.
When Noah was finished, he ran his fingers through Ramin’s hair again, gently this time, then slowly withdrew his length from Ramin’s mouth. It was wet and shiny and red. Ramin leaned in to clean it. He’d missed tasting Noah’s cum, but there was always next time.
Please let there be a next time.
Noah tucked himself back into his singlet, pulled up his shorts, and then reached down to help Ramin stand. Ramin’s left leg roared back to life in pins and needles. He stared at Noah, breathing hard, tears streaming down his face, nose running.
He felt like a total mess. A satisfied, glowing mess.
Before he could say anything, Noah pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only breathe and feel Noah’s breaths against him as he came down from the high of whatever the fuck had just happened.
“Thank you,” Noah whispered. And then he loosened his grip just enough to pull back, look Ramin in the face, and kiss him.
He kissed him long, and hard, and deep, forcing his tongue into Ramin’s mouth like he wanted to taste himself.
“You did great, baby,” he said softly. He kissed Ramin once on the tip of his nose and then stood back, looking at Ramin, waiting for him to say something.
But all that came out was “Holy fuck, Noah.”
Noah’s smile turned sheepish. “Was that okay?”
Ramin’s mouth hung open, even though his jaw ached. “Are you kidding? That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Noah smiled, a small, gentle thing. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be good for you, too.”
“It was,” Ramin assured him.
“Good.” Noah unlocked the door, stepped out and surveyed the bathroom, then gestured for Ramin to follow. Ramin adjusted his dick to the right to try to hide his rampant erection. He tugged the hem of his tank top down to cover the growing precum stain.
They went to wash their hands, and Ramin stared at himself in the mirror. His lips were swollen, his neck was flushed, his face was wet. He cleaned himself off, dried his tears, blew his nose. Ran wet fingers through his hair to fix it. Tried to scrub the wet spot out of his shorts.
Next to him, Noah was washing his own hands. His sleeves were still rolled up, and something caught Ramin’s eye.
“What’s this?”
There was writing, in blue ballpoint ink, on the underside of Noah’s left forearm.
Safe word—Red light
Call him a good boy
Degrading but not mean
Ask if he can deep throat?
AFTERCARE!
Ramin gaped. “Did you makenotes?”
