His gaze never wavers. He wants me to see who’s in charge. Who’s letting this happen.
He wants it burned into my memory.
He needs me to remember his diligent tongue—rolling, flattening, swirling, pushing me against his palate as he bobs his head; each pass rougher than the one before. Spit leaking from the corners of his mouth.
My whole body is locked in a vise, and there isn’t a single muscle that isn’t twitching with the urge to fuck into his throat raw.
But I’d never dare.
Not unless he told me to.
Not unless he gave me permission.
This is everything I’ve ever wanted and exactly what I’ve spent the last thirteen years denying myself of, and it’s happening in a filthy alley with the kid I swore I’d never touch.
“Holy fuck! Carey, fuck—”
He moans, deep in his throat, and I almost lose my vision.
He wants it, wants me, wants everything I have to give.
I should be terrified right now, but the only thing that matters, in this moment, is that I let him take it. Take all of me.
“I’m so close,” I choke out.
With spit smeared across his fist and chin, he pulls back just enough to say, “I wanna taste you, Oppa. I want your cum in my belly so at least I’ll have something when you’re pretending like this never happened.”
The words detonate something in my chest.
I want to argue, to tell him that I’d never do that. But with the way he’s working me, and how my body is winding tighter and tighter, there’s no room for anything else right now.
He lets go of my shaft and holds onto my thighs, allowing me to use him.
It’s only short, but it’s fucking everything.
I buck forward until my cock head slips past his tonsils and I’m rutting against his face.
I’m raw, and feral.
My mind isn’t straight.
I grip his hair with both hands and hold him still.
I thrust one more time, and I‘m done.
I feel my cock swelling in his throat.
I feel Carey swallow each time I pulse inside him.
He pulls back, and I watch him lap at the corners of his mouth, his mismatched eyes so full of pride.
“Tekie! Carey! Are you guys back here?”
Carey’s mouth is still open, spit and cum glistening on his lips.
The voice—Anaise’s—is coming from the edge of the alley.
It’s close enough that I feel my life teetering on the edge.
