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George moaned when I pulled his cheeks apart and tapped his hole with my middle finger. My dick pulsed against my zipper, begging for release as I licked his throat and sealed my mouth over his. He wrapped his right leg around my thigh in response and humped rhythmically, raking his fingernails down my sides.

“Did I return the favor?” I pumped his shaft as I pressed my finger on his puckered entrance.

That stopped him. “Do you want to?”

I kissed him hard and jacked him double time. “Yes.”

“Then do it.”

I liked the challenge in his eyes. “Right here?”

“Yeah. Right here.”

I sank slowly to my knees on the cool tile floor, glancing up as I stroked him.

I thought of the things he did to me…the way he gripped my length and rolled my balls when he worked me over. Then I twirled my tongue lazily around the tip and flattened it as I licked a path to his balls. I repeated the motion a couple of times, using a little more pressure at each pass before opening my mouth wide to swallow him whole.

My eyes watered immediately, but I didn’t gag, which was a minor miracle ’cause George was big. Not as big as me, but close.

I backed off and tried again, sucking as much as I could handle while I alternately stroked him from base to tip. After a few attempts, I found my rhythm…lick, suck, stroke, lick, suck, stroke. I must have been doing something right. George chanted my name as he massaged my scalp. And his hips never stopped…a gentle but persistent sway, over and over.

When my work got a little sloppy, I used the excess saliva to slick my finger and push a single digit inside him.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, wriggling into my touch.

I stood slowly, pausing to lick his stomach as I pushed his oxford shirt open and tweaked his nipples.

His nostrils flared. “Upstairs. Hurry.”

We raced for the stairs, hitting every squeaky step, turning right on the landing. George moved ahead of me into his room, flipping on the light next to his bed as he shed his clothes. I scanned the space and tried to remember if I’d ever been in here. Maybe once or twice.

It reminded me of his “lair” across town, but this one was “fancier.” His damask duvet complemented the wallpaper and the chaise lounge under the window…all in shades of black. But it was a surprisingly colorful space too. Bright-pink fuzzy pillows were stacked on the floor, and a Pride flag and posters of brilliant nebulas in outer space decorated the walls and the ceiling.

I pulled off my boots, then stripped before sitting on the edge of his full-sized mattress, buck-ass naked. I stroked myself languidly and watched him disrobe. George stepped out of his khakis and briefs and shrugged his oxford shirt off as he moved to the nightstand. He set a condom and bottle of lube on the bed and mumbled something about being glad his mom hadn’t snooped in his drawers.

“Please tell me again that they’re not coming home tonight,” I said, running my hand over his hip.

He shoved his duvet aside and lay on a pillow. “My parents? No. They’re in San Diego for the weekend. We’re safe.”

I shivered when he crooked his finger in invitation. George was a decadent study in contrast with his dark hair on the white pillow. He looked pretty…and dangerous at the same time. Not safe at all.

That was when my mind started spinning. Being with George wasn’t safe. Wanting him wasn’t safe. Yet here I was with my dick in my hand and a racing pulse, realizing I’d never felt more at home in my life. I trusted him. I wanted him to trust me too. I wanted him to know that I was fucking crazy about him.

He was strong and brilliant and vibrant, and damn, I wanted to know him in every way possible while I had the chance.

“I think you should fuck me,” I whispered, adding, “if you want.”

George widened his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Tell me what to do.”

He sat up and motioned for me to lie on my back. He grabbed the lube and poured a bit over my cock and on his fingers. “Open for me.”

“Uh…”

“Don’t be shy,” he cajoled, kissing the inside of my knee. “You know how it works. You do it to me all the time.”

I smiled and obeyed. I took a deep breath and concentrated on him. The sound of his voice, the feel of his finger at my opening. I winced when he pushed inside. His cock drooled precum on my inner thigh as he worked me over, adding lube, twisting his finger oh, so gently.

“Jesus, what’s that?” I moaned, gripping my cock as a wave of pleasure moved through me.


Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance