Page 88 of Breathe Like Hell

I gripped the back of the couch, shuddering at the feeling of his body behind mine.

Micah knelt on the hardwood and nudged my legs wider apart. I sucked in a breath, my cock already leaking precum, enough to drip. His large hand skimmed up my thigh, then grabbed my dick, moving along my length until he was cupping my balls. A violent surge of pleasure had my stomach clenching.

My eyes rolled when he leaned forward to lick up the full length of my shaft, over my hanging balls, then further back.

He didn’t hesitate. He never hesitated. He knew what he wanted.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His tongue worked my rim, pushing inside me, his hand stroking my erection from underneath. I gripped the couch harder, my abs flexing.

I hated how good he still was at this. Hated thinking about him doing it with other men. I knew he had, though. Before me, and probably after me.

“Oh, my God,” I choked out as he rimmed me.

I’d missed this feeling. The anticipation. Knowing Micah was going to fuck me, feeling him get my body ready, smelling his kapnos all around me. The promise of what was coming made me so horny I wasn’t really thinking logically anymore.

He probably knew how long it’d been for me. Knew how desperate I was for this.

I wasn’t sure why I never fucked another guy after him. I just never felt the desire.

My sexual orientation seemed to be towards women and Micah. He was some anomaly. It didn’t really bother me, and I never thought much about it. There was something different between us, and it couldn’t be compared to anything else.

And I was the only man he’d ever let top him. I could feel special for that.

But there were other complications with it that neither of us liked to think about.

He stood up and I heard him spit, then felt his heavy cock laying across my ass. His hands skimmed slow up my sides to my shoulders and he kneaded the muscles, massaging down either side of my spine, tracing my scars while lazily thrusting his hips, grinding against my crease.

“Been a while?” he questioned.

“I can take it,” I said through my teeth.

“Alright.” Micah spit again, then pressed a slick finger to my entrance. I didn’t move. “Tight as fuck, Ash,” he said lowly as he pushed farther, lighting up every nerve ending.

“Just fuck me.”

He leaned forward, laying his chest on my back, curling his finger and making me groan. “I’m going to,” he murmured in my ear, then scraped his teeth against my shoulder. He added a second finger, and I could feel the stretch now, my eyes squeezing shut. His teeth clamped down on my muscle, biting hard enough to leave marks.

Fuck, yes.

I was going to come if he didn’t stop moving his fingers the way he was now. Curling, twisting, stretching, stroking. Putting pressure inside of me.

Micah straightened and pulled his fingers out, then stroked his erection a few times to get it slick with his saliva. And then he was there, pushing, stretching, one hand gripping my ass, the other guiding his cock inside of me.

I was sweating as I backed up against him, taking every thick inch of him. Deeper, deeper, until his hips were flush against my skin. So many years without this, and it was just as good as I remembered. Better, even.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned through the deep ache claiming my body.

Micah began to pump into me, never lessening the brutal depth, not giving me much time to adjust to his size. I felt like I was going to die. Like he was going to split me in two.

He was rough and unforgiving, working into a rhythm, his fingers digging into my hip bones. I gritted my teeth, trying to keep breathing.

His shaft dragged over my prostrate on every stroke, driving me fucking insane. Somehow I’d forgotten just how unreal this was with him, the absolutely unfathomable magnitude of pleasure he made me feel. Big enough to swallow me, to consume me, to break me apart into molecules.

It was different than anything else.

My eyes rolled back when he reached around to grab my dick, stroking me.