It clicked in my head. Of course his heat felt right, and role play didn’t. It was Jet who I was attracted to, so why in the hell would we pretend he was someone else?
I grabbed the back of his head, pawing at him. “Thanks for giving that a try.”
He laughed. “Just a whim.” Then Jet grabbed my shoulders and spun me, pushing me back against the sink. His strength felt nice, something I could lean into. “The good news is, you’re even hot when you’re bad at role play,” he told me.
I grabbed the waist of his jeans and pulled him closer to my hip as I laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.”
He yanked the toolbelt off me. Heat pooled at my base as we rutted together, kissing and pressing each other against the sink, the counter, the walls. We made our way around the kitchen, not talking but just groping and pulling clothes off, kissing while I explored the stud that pierced his tongue.
Jet growled against my neck. “We’re so fucking hot together.” He licked up my beard, then pushed his hand between my legs, palming my erection. “Say it. Say we’re fucking hot together.”
I laughed and pushed him back to the wall, each of us throbbing hard in our boxer briefs. “We’re so fucking hot,” I told him. Then we kissed again, sloppy and greedy.
“Tell me how you want to be touched,” he said. “We’ve hooked up a few times already. What feels good?”
My heart beat against his chest. Slightly nervous, I took him by the wrist. “When you touched me here,” I said, then pulled his hand down to my balls. “What was that?”
Jet reached back, then massaged the spot behind my balls. My knees buckled, and I fell against him and the wall. Waves of pure horny need rolled out from my core, weakening my muscles as my cock twitched. “Fuck yeah, right there,” I gasped as Jet dragged his hand up, palming my balls and feeding the flames.
“You never touch yourself there?” he asked.
I shook my head quickly. “No, but fuck.”
“That’s your spot, Peyton. And I guess you got a nice raw one.”
“My what?” Jet rubbed back, stroking me again, and I grunted as our chests crashed together. “Fuck!”
“Your prostate. The thing that propels your orgasms. You can stimulate it externally,” he sucked in a breath and pressed against my throbbing spot again, “or internally, if you ever want to try it.”
Oh, that thing. I’d heard about it. I’d just never—
My knees buckled again as Jet kept stroking. He pushed his other hand down my boxer briefs and made a fist around my erection, then started to walk me backward into the living room. “Looks like we found something you’re into,” he grinned, probing my throbbing prostate with one hand and slicking the precum down my pulsing shaft with the other.
It was fucking torture, and I loved it.
“Urrggh,” I grunted, then thrust my hips against Jet, hard. “Hell yeah.”
I pushed Jet against the couch, then yanked his underwear off, freeing his hard cock. I wasn’t about to leave him unattended, and the lust that seized me was so fucking strong, all my inhibitions had disintegrated. His purple crown was swollen and leaking, and I grabbed his thick shaft as I crawled on top of him.
We rolled around each other, kissing and groping again. Jet got spit and precum all over our cocks, and there was just enough burn to our grip that it flamed my nerves. The more he massaged my spot, the thicker and more urgent the need to climax grew, throbbing out from the core of me.
I grabbed the back of his head and stared him in the eye. I was about to explode, and I needed to see him. I needed to feel him on every inch of my body as he dragged this orgasm from a part of me so deep, I’d never felt it before.
“Jet,” I gasped, boring my eyes into the center of his gaze as I pumped his cock.
“Yeah, babe,” he grunted, then pushed hard against my spot. “Give it to me.”
His touch ignited me, and my cock pumped hard, spraying a fat load against Jet’s smooth chest, shiny with sweat. He roared and thrust into my fist, shooting his own load, and as the force of it all thundered through me, I fell against him.
We gasped for breath in the silent apartment, sticky against each other. Jet slowly started to stroke my arm while aftershocks jolted through me.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I managed to answer. “Fucking amazing. You?”
“Yeah,” Jet answered, his voice low, surprisingly peaceful. “Never better.”
