“Fine,” he replies and then reaches out and cups it, cooing soft platitudes to my dick. Like it’s some kind of sentient being.
It’s fucking weird.
But as he touches and strokes it, his palm soft against me, I start to grow hard again.
And then harder, my cock pulsing with the rapid blood flow south.
A moment later, I’m so hard it aches.
Damn, maybe my dick does like compliments after all. Maybe these monsters are onto something.
A bead of precum sits on the tip, and the Vyastil’s gaze lands on it. Assessing, wondering. And then he closes his eyes and swipes it up with the pointed tip of his very long tongue.
The sensation makes my entire body shudder, my hands clasping the arms of the chair tightly so I don’t hurt myself trying to reach for him.
And then, suddenly, there’s nothing. No more licking, no sucking.
I peer down at him and see that his entire body is frozen.
My heart hammers in my chest with fear and anxiety. What if he doesn’t like what he tasted? What if my dickissmall and my cum is terrible?
What if I’m the worst he’s ever had, and now even the government won’t want me?
But then his eyes flash to mine, and I see his pupils are consuming most of his rainbow irises, making his entire eye look black.
“What?” I ask, unable to keep my mouth shut. “What is it?”
He blinks, and when he speaks, he sounds shaken. “You taste good.”
I let out a relieved breath. My cum doesn’t suck, and my dick isn’t too small. “Of course I do. I told you I’m normal.”
“You said nothing about the way you taste, which is very much not normal. Why do humans always lie?”
That makes me bristle. “I didn’t lie. I’m not a liar. I told you, I’m normal?—”
“Nothing about you,” he says very slowly, almost dangerously, “is normal.”
Before I can ask what the fuck he’s talking about, he huffs and his long tongue extends again, lengthening so far I can see two piercings adorning the center.
Before I can ask what the piercings are for, his tongue curls around my cock, and all the words leave my brain.
The feeling is wet and warm, a nice sleeve for my dick, and for a moment, my eyes close against my will.
And then his mouth engulfs me, and I let out averyunmanly groan, which sounds a bit more like a squeak than a moan.
But he says nothing. He sucks harder, almost as if he’s on a mission.
A cum mission.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as my fingers tighten on the arms of the chair. He’s sucking like his life depends on it. His tongue vibrates, making my eyes cross and my balls draw up.
The piercings don’t help. They’re icy cold, creating a sensation I don’t think any human could ever replicate.
This is, by far, the best blow job I’ve ever had. No wonder those men are lined up outside, waiting for their turn again.
This is amazing.
My groans deepen, my fingers digging into the metal of the chair. I can feel my orgasm start to crest, and I can’t hold on. I knew thirty minutes would be too long.
