Vincent pulls off and runs his tongue up and down my shaft, licking, and then says, “I want to suck you dry. Is that okay?”
“Um, yeah. More than okay.”
He swallows me again, his tongue working the tip and doing that swirling he knows makes my thighs shudder. “Good boy.” My hands grip the bed. “Good boy. Just like that. Work my cock, smoothie.”
He cups my balls, adding slight pressure right underneath.
“Vincent, if you keep doing that, I’m going to come quickly,” I warn.
He pulls off, saliva dripping from his lips. “That’s fine.” He wiggles his ass. “As long as you’re not too tired for this.”
“Never.” My eyes are glued to his plump rump shaking as he taunts me.
“I want to, can I, while I … ” I stammer, the sudden need to taste him overwhelming me. Vincent doesn’t move. He lets me have my way. Such a fucking good boy.
I’m up. Moving behind him, pushing him against the bed, spreading him wide, burying my beard between his cheeks.
“Fuck, Kent.” His body juts forward at the contact, but there’s nowhere for him to escape, and he quickly pushes back, fucking my tongue with his heavenly hole. He tastes sweet. Fresh. Raw. All mine. Sometimes, I simply need to devour him from the inside while I come.
The limitations of my mouth push me to slip my index finger inside him. Nestled next to my tongue, I push past it, delving deeper.
“Fuck, Kent. You’re going to make come if you keep at this.”
I want to tell him he’s a good boy, and I love him more than I ever thought possible. The need tickles my throat, but my mouth is preoccupied, so I flick my tongue and swirl my finger deeper, eliciting moans from Vincent’s sweet lips. There we go. My Vincent. His ass twitches, and I reach under to take over stroking him. His hard cock leaks precum, and I have to work hard to jerk him while eating him out and fingering him with the other hand, but he’s worth every ounce of effort.
His plan was for me to come first, but the tables have turned. He’s so over the moon, I’m going to get him off first, and then he can drain me like a good boy.
“Right there.” Vincent pushes back. My tongue, as far as it will go, doesn’t move, but my finger brushes his prostate, and he shivers.
“Right there. Right there. You’re … Oh fuck, Kent.”
His hole contracts around my finger and tongue as he shoots warm cum into my palm. I keep stroking him but do my best to catch as much as possible—no sense wasting it.
When Vincent’s body stills, I pull my tongue and finger out and say, “Such a fucking good boy for me.”
Vincent lays his head on the bed and sighs with the most decadent sound—pure pleasure.
“Give me just a minute,” he says in a tired, soft tone.
“Smoothie, don’t move. Just let me … ”
I take his cum, still warm, and slather it on my cock.
“This view. It’s not going to take me long.” My free hand slaps his ass with athwackand I pull at the cheek, exposing his hole. My finger slides back in, and my orgasm creeps up, provoked by the view and the slippery help of his cum.
“Can I … ” I eke out, the gratification creeping up, slowly overtaking my body.
“Cover me in it.”
And that’s it. Vincent’s voice. Permission. His horny hole wide open for my finger, I move forward, my cock right at the crack of his ass, and shoot long ropes. The first eruption lands close to his shoulder blades, with the subsequent ones covering his lower back. The moment my dick touches his backside, I’m consumed by a wave of pleasure, heightened by the electric sensation of our skin meeting. When the last of my orgasm blankets him, I take my cock and smear it down his crack toward his hole.
“Be a good boy and don’t move.”
“Mmmh.” Vincent’s sweetness permeates the entire room.
With my thumb, I carefully guide my cum into his hole. He tightens around my finger, making my mouth water. The thought of tasting him … Me. Us. I can’t help myself. I lean over and lap it up with my tongue, our tastes mixing in my mouth like the most perfectly crafted confection. Once I’ve consumed it all, I continue giving Vincent his first clean-up with my mouth. His skin shivers, my beard tickling him, but he doesn’t budge.
“My delicious good boy,” I say, licking the salty sweetness from my lips. “Don’t move. I’ll get you a warm washcloth.”
