Page 12 of The Jock Next Door

My throat is tight. All I can do is nod.

“Then come here.”

I cross the distance between us on legs that don’t feel like mine. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed now, feet on the floor, knees apart. His cock stands straight up, curving just slightly toward his stomach. It’s beautiful. A perfect, intimidating column of flesh. Darker than the rest of him, with thick veins running the length of the shaft.

I sink to my knees on the cold linoleum. It bites into my kneecaps, but I barely feel it. There are other things on my mind. Like the musky scent of him, clean and aroused. The heat coming off his body. The sight of that rigid cock inches from my face.

“Go on,” he says softly. “Touch it.”

My hand trembles as I reach for him. His skin is hotter than I expected. Velvet over steel. I can feel the pulse hammering through the vein on the underside. He’s so much bigger than me. Longer and thicker and heavy in my grip. I run my thumb over the slick head, and he lets out a low groan.

“Yeah. Just like that.”

Holding someone else’s cock is nothing like holding your own. The weight, the texture, how he twitches when my thumb circles the ridge below the head. It feels like I’m holding a living thing. Which I guess I am. Wild and powerful, and I have no idea how to handle it.

Trey’s hands come to my shoulders, guiding me forward. “Get it wet.”

My heart is in my throat. This is it. This is actually happening. I lean in and press the flat of my tongue to the base of his shaft. He sucks in a sharp breath. The taste is clean and mineral, a little salty. I drag my tongue up to the tip, tracing the prominent vein. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, but his fingers tighten on my shoulders, so I must be doing something right.

I open my mouth and take the head inside. My jaw stretches wide to fit him. The smooth, spongy skin presses against my tongue. I close my lips around the ridge and suck, gentle at first, then harder, swallowing the fluid that leaks from him.

“Fuck,” he groans, one hand moving to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. “You taste that? That’s all you.”

A thrill shoots through me. Me. I’m the reason he’s so hard, the reason he’s leaking all over my tongue. I slide my lips down, taking as much of him as I can, which isn’t much before he hits the back of my throat. I gag and pull back, coughing, tears welling in my eyes.

“Easy.” His thumb strokes my temple. “Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose.”

I try again. Slower. I focus on breathing, on the feel of him in my mouth. I take him a little deeper, my hand wrapped around the base where my mouth can’t reach. My jaw aches, but it’s a good ache. I like the fullness, the stretch of my lips. The grunts and sighs he makes.

I find a rhythm. Bobbing my head, tongue swirling around the tip. Every time I slide down, I try to take a little more. My spit slicks him up, and the sounds are wet and messy and obscene. I get a little further each time, but barely. There’s still so much of him I can’t reach. And he’s getting even harder, thicker, swelling in my mouth. How does he keep growing? How much bigger can he get?

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that.” His voice is strained. “Look at me, Nico.”

I look up at him without pulling off and find him watching me, pupils blown, lips parted. His chest rises and falls fast. The muscles in his stomach are clenched tight.

“You like that? Like that big cock in your pretty mouth?”

Fuck. He’s so much better at talking dirty than me. I answer with a moan, and that spurs him on.

“It looks good too. So fucking hot with your lips stretched around me. My neighbor.” A low laugh. “The quiet little artist. Not so quiet now though, are you? Not with your mouth full. Slurping and gagging and drooling all over my dick. So desperate for it.”

The heat that floods me is so intense it feels like a fever. He’s right. I am desperate. I love this. I love being on my knees for him, serving him, making him feel good with my mouth. My free hand grips his thigh and I can feel the tension coiled in the muscle. He’s holding back. Keeping his hips still. Letting me set the pace when every part of him wants to take over.

I take a breath and push down, forcing myself deeper. My throat spasms, tears stinging my eyes, but I push through it. When I try to swallow around him, he curses under his breath.

“You trying to deep-throat me?” A note of disbelief.

Yeah, that was overly ambitious. He’s too big. My throat locks up and my stomach lurches. For a second I think I’m going to throw up. I pull back, dragging in air, strings of spit connecting my lips to the head of his cock. My chin is all wet and sticky.

Trey cups my face in his hands. His thumbs wipe at the mess. “Hey. Slow down. You don’t have to prove anything.”

“But I want to.”

“What you’re doing is already great. Trust me.” He leans down, his forehead touching mine. I can see flecks of gold in his dark eyes. “You’re making me feel so good, Nico.”

The way he says my name. Like it’s something precious. My chest aches with it. He’s been so straight with me, so unapologetic, and I owe him the same. I want to be honest with him. Completely and brutally honest, in a way I’ve never been with anyone.

“I listened to you,” I blurt out. “Through the wall. That night after I came over.”