My hand slides up, wrapping tightly around his throat, squeezing as I bring my mouth to his ear. “You want this?” My voice is low as I grind my hips against him.
A whimper falls from his lips, his head nodding. “Fuck yes.”
“You think you can handle my cock?” Kalen and I have messed around before, but mostly just making out. I rubbed him off outside his pants once last year at a kegger, but that’s as far as we’ve gotten. Never has he touched my body anywhere from the neck down.
“Try me.”
I don’t miss the mischief lacing his voice or the way his body trembles against mine. Running my tongue up the side of his neck, goosebumps pebble his skin as he lets out a heavy sigh. Tightening my grip on his neck, I growl in his ear, “On your fucking knees.”
Dropping down, he kneels between the door and me and looks up at me with eyes black as night, heavy and glassy. He sucks his plush bottom lip between his teeth, his neck and face flushed.
My cock is hard and straining against my fly, desperate to be freed. He lowers his eyes from my face to the bulge, licking his swollen lips. With shaky hands, he flicks the button open and lowers the zipper before taking me out of my pants.
His eyes widen and that pesky little tongue glides across his lips again, looking like he’s hungry for his next feast. “You got a nice fucking dick, bro.”
My lips curve up into a lazy grin as my hand slides into his hair, fisting the shaggy locks. “Thanks. Now stop talking andsuck.”
His lips part, and that’s all the invitation I need as I shove my cock all the way into his hot, wet mouth. His hands fly up to grip my thighs, the intoxicating sound of him gagging and fighting for air hitting my ears.
He quickly finds his rhythm, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. His head bobs up and down vigorously while mine falls back on my shoulders, eyes fluttering closed.
“Fuck,Kal.” My chest rises and falls in rapid succession, as potent lust swims through my body. Every nerve ending is lit up, the drugs heightening every touch, every lick, every sound. My grip tightens in his hair as my other hand rests flat against the door.
Peering down at him, he’s looking at me through thick, dark lashes that are coated with his tears. His brows are pinched as he takes every last inch of me down his throat. Holding myself fully sheathed, his face turns red from lack of oxygen. His head is up against the door with nowhere to go.
A wicked grin slides on my face as I pull out of his mouth, strings of spit still connecting his lips to my cock. “You wanna make me come?”
He nods his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You want my cum to coat the inside of your mouth and drip down your throat?”
Another nod. His palm is wrapped around his cock outside his jeans as he strokes himself slowly, eyes never leaving mine.
“You know this doesn’t mean anything, right? Whatever happens in this room will never be more than this.”
“Yes, fuck. Just give me your fucking dick already.” He looks up at me, scowling, and I can’t help but laugh as I shove my cock back between his lips. Holding his head still with both hands, my hips piston against his face, diving myself deep into his throat.
Sloppy, wet gagging noises are the only sound in the room, his hair damp with sweat, and I’m teetering right on the brink of euphoria. My eyes fall closed of their own accord as I continue to fuck his face with vigor. A warm, tingling sensation works its way from the base of my spine, spreading through my veins until it reaches my balls.
“Oh, fuck. Gonna come.” As my balls tighten up, forest green eyes appear behind my closed lids. I barely have time to prepare myself as hot streams of cum jet from my cock, spilling down the tight, warm throat encasing me.
Only once I’m finished, and have pulled myself out of his mouth, tucking myself back into my jeans, do I allow myself to wonder what the actual fuck just happened.
Why the fuck would I picture Anderson while I come?!
Chapter Eight
Anderson
Summer break has officially started, and I have successfully completed another year of college. Feels fucking great, honestly. Aston and I got back home to Bellingham a few days ago, and we’ve been busy as hell ever since.
We had family visiting from Texas for the weekend, and we all spent a ton of time together; dinners, golfing, sightseeing. It was nice, but I’m excited about getting out with my friends tonight. Aston and I are going midnight bowling with Knox, Branson, Luca, Weston, and Crew. Crew’s on his way over here now. He’s riding with me. It’s the first time I’m seeing him since I’ve been home.
His parents are yet again out of town. I don’t know how they ever get any work done with as much as they travel. It’s fucking ridiculous. His parents’ constant absence bothers him; I know it does, even if he doesn’t ever voice it.
Just getting out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and hang one around my shoulders, heading back to my room. My parents are out to dinner with Dad’s business partners at some fancy restaurant in Seattle.
Choosing to dress comfortably tonight, I pull on some black boxers and black joggers, with a white band tee. My phone goes off on my dresser, the screen flashing with Calina’s name, so I press accept. It’s a FaceTime call. We’ve been doing pretty good again, after the weird ass incident when she got pissed off about Crew a month ago.