He writhed in pleasure as I worked him over, taking my time as I never had in prison. This might be a dark corner in a public club, but I was going to thoroughly enjoy it, anyway.
I took his cock down my throat once more and fumbled with my jeans to pull my dick out and stroke.
He arched, his cock pushing deeper into my throat, and that was so fucking hot I rumbled out a groan of my own.
“Oh, you like that,” he said breathlessly. “Me fucking your mouth.”
I made a sound of agreement, and he rolled his hips, sliding his shaft over my tongue, into my throat, cutting off my air, before pulling back. He rode my face, using my shoulders for support, until his thighs started quivering.
“Gonna come,” he cried loudly. There was a chuckle beside us, and a smattering of applause across the room.
“Get it, baby!” someone called.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped, probably embarrassed and turned on that we had an audience. No one could really see us, not unless they were right next to us, but they knew what was happening.
My dick swelled in my hand, pressure building as my climax rose to claim me. I tightened my mouth around him, sucking as best I could as he fucked my face.
His hips stuttered, he stiffened, and then salty cum poured down my throat. I swallowed greedily, and my orgasm hit, sticky heat spilling over my fingers as I unloaded beneath his feet.
A fitting place for a guy like me.
I was lucky to be here on my knees, worshipping at his altar. If he knew anything about me, he’d stay far away.
“So good,” he rasped, his voice hoarse after that loud cry.
I smiled with satisfaction. I’d wager I’d given him his best orgasm in a long damn time. Not that he hadn’t done the same for me. They didn’t make guys like him in prison—or in biker clubs.
Puck flashed into my mind, and I quickly pushed the image of his face aside. He wasn’t part of my life anymore. He had no place in my afterglow with this beautiful stranger.
I lowered his shaky legs to the ground and handed him his shorts.
“I never even caught your name,” he said, keeping a hand braced on my shoulder for support.
“Will.” I zipped up. “But everyone calls me Knight.”
“Knight.” He flashed me a grin. “You going to save me?”
“Didn’t I already do that?”
He laughed. “Saved me from a dry spell, that’s for sure. I’d probably have had bad, drunken, sloppy sex if not for you.”
“That’s not what this was?”
His eyes met mine, suddenly intent. “No. I don’t think so. I’m barely tipsy, and you? You haven’t even had a drink, have you?”
“Wrong,” I murmured. “I just had a delicious cocktail.”
He snorted and tugged on his shorts, smoothed his hair, and gave me a long look. “You live in Omaha?”
“Nope. Just passing through.”
“Ah.” His smile was wistful. “Too bad.”
“Nah. It’s like you said. I’m a bad man, and that’s not really your type.”
“Guess you’re right.” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, making me crave another kiss. “It was real nice to meet you, Knight. But I should get back to my friends before they send out a search party.”
I nodded once, mouth too dry to speak, and watched himwalk back toward the hallway. It was only after he’d gone that I realized I’d never asked for his name.
