“Fucking tease.” I’m surprised I blurted that, but there’s no backing out now. My chest, which was all tight and knotted up this morning, swells with excitement. Adrenaline surges through my veins.
Yes, this is a really shitty idea…
8
Dax
Ican’t saythis is what I expected to happen when I approached Miles in art class, but I’m certainly not complaining.
I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, though I’m not sure why. Again, maybe it goes back to everything and everyone feeling boring lately, like I’ve done it or donethemall before, and something about Miles is…exciting again. All I know is I love the way his hard, fat cock feels against my palm, the way his hand had felt against my throat, and the taste of his talented tongue when our mouths collided.
“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees, then,” Miles orders, making my cock twitch in excitement. Sucking dick is one of my favorite things, and I’mverygood at it.
I grin, his face twisting up slightly, the way it does sometimes when something I do confuses him. I think he likes my smile and doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to acknowledge what it does to him.
“I’m going…” I press my lips to his mouth. “Just…” I kiss his neck. “Be…” I kneel on the floor, then shove up his T-shirt. “Patient.” Ignoring my throbbing dick, I make quick work of his jeans, getting them open and tugging them and his boxer trunks down. Miles is packing—a big, juicy cock, swollen and red, thick, fat veins pulsing beneath his skin. Precum already beads at the tip, his balls heavy and full. I cup them, savor the weight of them in my palm.
“I’m waiting for your mouth. I don’t have all day.”
“God, you’re an asshole.”
“Fuck—” he starts, his words cutting off when I suck him to the back of my throat. His girth stretches my lips deliciously, his dick hot on my tongue. I pull off, flatten my tongue against the base of his shaft and run it all the way up to the tip, before sucking him inside again.
“Looks like I did find something your mouth is good for,” he tells me, and maybe that should piss me off, but it doesn’t. It makes my dick swell even more, makes it pulse with need, my mouth working up and down his shaft, swallowing around him when he hits the back of my throat.
Miles’s hands fist in my hair, a stinging sensation coming from my scalp, but all it does is turn me on more, make me work harder for the load he has built up in his pretty balls. I fucking love making a guy nut, making him lose control for me, and I have a feeling making Miles cut loose like that, seeing him dive headfirst into an orgasm, will be even better than with anyone else. A guy’s gotta have a goal, right? And it looks like mine is making Miles bust.
I pull off, lower my face to his balls, breathe in the musky, heady scent of him. God, it’s intoxicating. I feel like I could get drunk off every hungry sound he makes, off the way he pulls my hair harder when I lap at his tight sac, at the way his thigh muscles are already tightening, his breathing coming out in sharp pants.
“Get back on my dick. I prefer it when your mouth is full.”
“Don’t go easy on me. I know you can do better.”
His pupils flare, an unreadable expression on his face, and this time, when I suck him into my mouth again, Miles doesn’t let me run the show. He fucks into me, fisting my hair, head tilted up so I’m looking at him as he gives me what I asked for.
There’s nothing like it. I get fucking high off the pleasure, off making him feel good, which makes me feel good in return. Sucking dick is always like some kind of competition for me, this strategic game where if I use my mouth right, move my tongue the way I should, open up my throat, gag on it in a way that makes my heart race and endorphins rush through my body, then I win the prize, and God, I fuckinglovethe prize. Love a big mouthful of cum…Miles’s cum. What will he taste like? I can’t wait to find out.
“You do fucking love it, don’t you?” he grits out. “I can see it on your face. You’re dying for it. You love being on your knees for me, eyes glassy for me. You want my load?”
I nod, too full of cock to speak. I’m dying right now. I don’t know which I want more—to come or empty his balls.
“God, what is it about you?” he says—more to himself than to me, I think—hips thrusting, hand still fisting, holding my head still, his focus all on me and what he’s doing.
I can’t stop myself from opening my jeans, shoving them down and jacking myself off. I’m leaking, and the precum helps slick the way, but not nearly enough. Saliva runs down my chin, so I use that, wipe it onto my hand and stroke while I let him fuck my mouth. His movements get jerkier, his cock flexing in my mouth, and I know I’m about to get what I came for.
“Fuck, you want it? I’m gonna feed you my load unless you pull off.”
Pull off? What the hell is the point of a blowjob if I do that?
I bob my head on him, feel my lower back begin to tingle, like it’s the end of a wick and any moment now the flame will shoot up my spine.
“Fuck, here it comes,” he says, and makes a hungry, feral sound. His cock jerks in my mouth, hot cum on my tongue. He grabs the back of my head, pushing it down on him even more, fucks himself down my throat, keeps filling me, spurt after saltyspurt, hitting my taste buds and making me feel like I’m fucking flying. He keeps going, his movement slowing as he finishes.
“Hold it open,” Miles tells me, and I pull off him, head tilted up, mouth open.
He strokes himself, squeezes at the tip so the last few drops of cum land on my tongue. I smile at him as he feeds it to me, don’t let my gaze flick away even for a second while I swallow.
“Told you I’m good.” I smirk at him, and before I realize what’s happening, Miles pulls me to my feet, pushes me against the wall, one hand on my throat again, as he spits in his hand, wraps it around my cock, jerking me off and slamming his mouth on mine.
