He gives my dick a few tugs and then spits. The saliva drips down until he strokes it in, getting me nice and wet, and I let out a little moan. Those firm hands make every nerve in my cock come alive. Figures the IT guy has magic fingers.
“Now…” His eyes settle on my erection, heat pooling there. He’s so tall that even with me perched on the counter, he still has to bend, big hands braced on either side of me. “Be a good boy, and let me suck your beautiful cock.”
My perfectly average-sized dick—which I’ve had no complaints about—looks a little small in Greg’s massive hands, but that’s just the price of dating someone his size. He rubs the head against one of his tusks, glances up at me over his glasses, and wiggles his eyebrows above his glasses. I can’t help but laugh. How can someone so big and strong be this sweet and silly?
“Feels… smooth. Shiny.”
He chuckles. “You’d be amazed what a good buffing can do.”
Then he opens his mouth and takes me all the way in—swallowing, sucking, slurping—giving head like it’s his calling. Holy fuck. Maybe it’s his tongue. Like the rest of him, it’s bigger, stronger, relentless. He does this rolling move around the tip, then drags that wet heat down my shaft until?—
“Fuck, Greg.”
He pulls off, lapping at my balls.
“Damn, you give good head.”
He makes a noise, somewhere between a growl and a groan, grabs my ankles, tips me back, and runs his tongue straight down to my hole. I can’t help myself. I reach down and spread my ass wide. Taking my hint, Greg’s tongue enters me, fucking my ass while he holds one ankle and jerks me with his other hand. Between his mouth and his hands, he’s making me gasp with pleasure. All I can do is hold on for the ride, lost somewhere between want and wonder.
And then he’s up—standing between my legs, his gorgeous, long, thick cock pressed against mine. That horn pokes at my balls, adding pressure in just the right spot until the heat between us blurs my vision. He slides a hand behind my neck and pulls me in until there’s nothing left between us but sweat and breath. Spit drips from his lip, I’m all over his face, but I don’t care. I tilt my head and capture his mouth, kissing him hard, hungry, desperate to taste him.
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and the look he gives me—like I’m something he built and loves every inch of—makes my body buzz. He kisses me again, gentler now. “Sean,” he whispers. “I really want you to fuck me. Longer this time.”
The words hit somewhere between my stomach and my heart.
“I want to,” I manage. “Gods, I want to.”
“Then be a good boy, and own my hole,” he murmurs, voice rough with want but threaded with something softer—trust.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Grab the lube from the nightstand.”
He doesn’t question it. Just moves across the tiny room—my whole life in twenty steps—retrieves the bottle, and turns back toward me, waiting.
I hop down and let my eyes roam his body—this impossible, brilliant, gentle giant who keeps showing up no matter how many excuses I give him not to.
Then I take a breath, step forward, and reach for him—ready to give him exactly what he asked for.
Greg’s eyes are locked on mine, his face flushed and open in a way that makes my chest ache. I nod toward the counter, my voice rough.
“Bend over.”
It’s not a command so much as a promise—that I’ll take care of him, that I want this as badly as he does. He moves slowly, hands braced on the cool surface, shoulders trembling just a little, and I watch him breathe out, all steady and trusting. I take a moment to drink in the sight of his beautiful ass. Like two huge globes all for me. The air feels thick, like it’s holding its breath right along with us. I reach for him, fingertips ghosting over the back of his neck, and he tilts his head slightly, waiting, smiling. The whole world shrinks to this tiny space—the counter, his body, the soft sound of the fridge, and I know, with Greg, there’s no more doubt. I’m all in.
18
COMPATIBLE DEVICES
GREG
Sean’s mouth is everywhere.
And for a guy who claims he’s never been with an orc before, he seems to have downloaded the full instruction manual. Holy moly.
I’m trying to keep it together—to be cool, to breathe—but every flick of his tongue is like a short-circuit. I swear, if my brain had a progress bar, it’d be stuck at 99% overwhelmed.
He’s behind me now, teasing, and every nerve ending I’ve got is lighting up like debug code.
“My good boy is getting me nice and ready for his cock,” I say, trying to catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder.
