His hands are shoving my shirt up and off in one impatient pull. He steps back half a pace and just watches, eyes dragging over my bare torso and the trail of hair disappearing into my jeans. His palms land flat on my ribs, thumbs sweeping slow arcs across my pecs until my nipples pebble hard under the callused pads.
“Fuck, you’re built like something I shouldn’t touch,” he says, breaths uneven.
His hands slide up, cup my pecs and squeeze, thumbs rolling my nipples until I hiss and arch. He leans in and latches onto my collarbone, sucking hard enough to bruise. His tongue flicks overthe spot before he moves to my shoulder with teeth scraping, then down the center of my chest. Open-mouthed kisses turn to bites along my sternum. He sucks a dark mark right over my heart, then lower, painting hickeys across my stomach, one ridge at a time.
By the time his mouth reaches my hip bones, I’m shaking, my cock throbbing painfully against my zipper. He bites down on the sharp jut of bone, hard enough to make me yelp, then soothes it with slow licks before doing the same on the other side.
“George—”
“Yeah, I know,” he breathes against my skin, voice thick. “You’re leaking for me already.”
He pops the button on my jeans then yanks them down along with my briefs. I kick them off, barefoot on the cold concrete, completely naked, while he’s still dressed from head to toe.
He rests one hand on my inner thigh, thumb circling slow and maddening right where leg meets groin. He just looks long at my hard and dripping cock, then up at my face with this dark, possessive hunger.
“Get on the bench,” he orders.
The main workbench is a tall, long, heavy steel frame, cleared off with rubber mat laid across the top. I hop up and sit on the edge. George drags his rolling stool over, sits right between my thighs, eye level with my cock. He pushes my knees wider until I’m splayed open before him like a fucking offering.
“Lie back.”
I do. The mat is cool under my spine. My thighs tremble as he hooks his hands under my knees, lifts and spreads them high, folding me almost in half. My hole is completely exposed under the low light. Heat floods my face because he’s just staring, eyes locked on it like it’s the only thing in the world.
“George, what are you doing?” I ask, embarrassed. At the same time, the idea of being manhandled and exposed feels fucking good.
“Shh. I’m looking at your ass.” His voice is reverent. “It’s so fucking pretty, so pink for me.”
He leans in, drags his tongue slow and flat from my balls up the underside of my cock, then circles the head, tasting the precum there. One hand wraps around the base, stroking firmly while his mouth takes me in deep with slow wet heat. His throat opens around me until his nose hovers against my skin. I cry out so loud it bounces off the metal walls, my hands slamming down to grip the bench edges.
“Knowing you’ve put a lot of toys inside this…Can’t fucking wait to put something real in here.”
He works me thoroughly, alternating between long, deep sucks and dragging his tongue down my length. He laps at my balls and sucks one into his mouth. His thumb presses slow firm circles against my hole.
It builds and builds and builds until I can’t take it anymore. I come hard, back arching off the bench, shouting his name into the empty bay. He swallows everything without slowing down, working me through it until my thighs stop trembling. He sits back on his stool after, lips swollen and shining, eyes glinting like he’s very pleased with himself and has every right to be.
“That was embarrassingly fast,” I pant to the rafters.
George drags his thumb across my hip bone, then his palm strokes me up my inner thigh. “You lasted exactly as long as I wanted you to.”
He stands and crosses to the office. A drawer opens and closes. He returns with a condom packet and a lube sachet in one hand. He places them on the mat beside me like he had them planned.
I push up on my elbows. “You keep those here?”
“I keep them everywhere, just in case you’re ready.”
“Ready?”
“Ready to be fucked.”
Oh my fucking god.
He just fixes his focus on me with a zoned-in intensity, like nothing in the world exists outside this bench and whatever he’s planning to do to me on it.
He sits back down on the stool between my legs, then he starts with his mouth.
He leans in and drags his tongue slow and flat over my hole, licking me open with long strokes. I jerk at the wet heat of it.
“George—” My voice cracks.
