A deep, guttural moan fell from my lips when he positioned me over his thigh. His answering chuckle sent goose bumps prickling down my spine. I clutched at his biceps, gasping at the solid mass under my palms. I could barely wrap my hands around the top of his arms; they were so thick. He moved my body the way he liked, undulating my cock back and forth across his thigh.
The friction was delicious, but I wanted more, needed more.Needed everything.I didn’t care that I was practically humping him in the doorway or that my neighbors would surely give me hell tomorrow for the noise.
“Tell me,Johnny,” I cried. “What do I do to you?”
“Fuck.” He growled into my neck like a rabid vampire from one of my favorite movie franchises. “The way you say my name.”
“You don't like it?”
“I fucking love it. Too much.” He nipped at my neck and reached for my belt buckle.Fuck, maybe he is a vampire.“Nobody calls me Johnathan or Johnny, not even my own mother.”
“Mm,” I moaned as his fingers undid my belt. “How about we don’t talk about your mom while your hand is in my pants?”
He smiled against my skin. “Noted.”
I let my head fall back against the door and tried to focus on the feeling of his mouth sucking a bruise into my collarbone while he tugged at my zipper. His fingers curled into the waistband of my briefs, and my breath hitched.
“I'm guessing you bottom?” he asked, voice muffled by the collar of my shirt.
“Vers.”
“Me too.” He lifted his head, fixing me with a pointed glare. “But I would really,reallylike to fuck you tonight. At least for thefirsttime.”
Oh, fuck.
If the rumors about Tucker’s sexual prowess were anything to go by, tonight was going to be a late one. The devilish glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly what was running through my mind.
“Any objections?” I shook my head. “I'm going to need you to say it, Heller.”
“Fuck me, Johnny.”
“That's the plan,” he said, shoving his hand into my pants.
The sudden, direct contact of his calloused palm on my cock ripped a guttural groan from deep within. My eyes rolled back into my head as I thrust up into his fist.
“Well, hello. What’s this?”
I didn’t bother asking for clarification; I knew he was talking about the lorum piercing at the base of my dick, a souvenir from my one-and-only rebellious phase in my early twenties.
“I dated an emo raver in college,” I explained. “He talked me into it.”
“Birkenstocks, bracelets, and a pierced cock.” He chuckled and nipped at my chin. “You continue to surprise me, Heller.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Don't be embarrassed,” he said, stroking the sensitive skin of my shaft with the pad of his thumb, lightly toying with petite gold ring on the underside. “I like it.”
“Yeah?”
I moaned, unable to stop myself from pressing into his touch.
“Oh, yeah.” He dropped to his knees, yanking my pants and boxer briefs down to my ankles in one swift move. My cock jutted out, hard and already dripping with precum. “Anything I need to know about handling your hardware?”
“Watch your teeth.”
“Got it. I was just tested last week, by the way,” he said without missing a beat. “You?”
“Six months ago, but there hasn’t been anybody.” I trailed off, groaning when he pumped his hand up and down my shaft. “Sweet fuck, Johnny.I need your mouth on me.Now.”
