His expression brightened. “Yes. That way I can see your orgasm face.”
“Is it ugly?” I kissed his ankle.
“No, it’s expressive.”
“That means ugly. But I don’t care if that’s what you want.”
Using the leftover lube, I slicked my dick, held Milo by both ankles in my left hand, and slipped my cock between Milo’s thighs. “Oh fuck.” I moved, thrusting, keeping his legs closed and flush to my chest.
His nipple piercings reflected the delicate pink glow from the light strips around the room and, as if reading my mind, he pinched one in his fingers.
I was giving him no pleasure at all, not in a sexual sense, but his eyes shone with joy. “You’re so fucking hot, Milo. Fuck.”
“Oh yeah? Hot enough to come?” He grinned. “Show me?”
“Yes! Fuck.” I groaned as if Milo reached into me and pulled the orgasm from the depths of me I didn’t know existed. With a choked sound, I shot onto his chest and kept coming, hugging Milo’s legs like a raft in the storm of my own creation.
And I just fucked his thighs.
But with Milo, nothing was “just”. Every caress, kiss, and bite was special.
Fuck.
I had to be careful, or this adorable twink would ruin me.
Author's notes:
Okay, so confession time. I’ve never “been” with a bigfoot before so I had to do research for this one. I asked around and got a first person encounter from a friend, then he sent me some links and umm…wow. My descriptions are scientifically accurate.
Rowan
The Griffin Hotel, where my co-workers and I stayed, served delicious breakfast, but after over two weeks, I exhausted all the options. I shot some hoops at the hotel’s basketball area first thing after I woke up, showered, and went downstairs. Troy met me at the table by the window every morning, and we followed one strict rule: no talking about work.
“Eggs Benedict again?” Troy asked, taking a seat at the small square table.
“They make good ones here. Also, you can’t judge me, Mr. Sausage and Beans.” I eyed his food.
“Hey, that used to be my family's breakfast.” Troy set his plate on the table and put his phone next to it. He glanced at it and sighed. “I miss mornings with Raina. No offence.”
“None taken.” I poked my eggs until they spilled all over the plate. “I mean, we have the same hair, but that’s about it.”
“Her sense of humor is superior, for sure.” His dreamy tone was adorable.
“Ouch.” I put a hand on my chest. “You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my second best, sorry. She got you beat,” Troy said around a mouthful of sausage.
“I’d say put a ring on it, but that’s what next week’s party is about.” I slathered my bread in egg yolk and brought it to my lips.
He sighed. “A wedding is not a party.”
“Oh, Raina is rubbing off on you.”
“Shut up. She keeps drilling me about your date,” Troy huffed and refilled both our glasses with orange juice from the pitcher.
“She’s threatening to put me at the singles table. Remember what happened at Simon’s wedding last year?” My phone buzzed on my napkin, lighting up with a text from Milo.
Troy narrowed his eyes at me. “Yeah. You ended up fucking a gorgeous twink.”
