Page 27 of Stroke Rate

The want was so overwhelming, all Chris could do was respond to its will, a slave to the hunger of a baser need—one that River seemed to feed.

“Be a good boy and take me out.” The words had been a mantra on repeat. He was being a good boy as he pulled River’s joggers down his legs and helped him step out of them, his cock hard and leaking right at Chris' mouth, and god he was big, so much bigger than Chris remembered. River’s dick was perfect, surrounded by a trimmed thatch of dark auburn curls, the shaft long, thick, and uncut. A juicy vein ran the top and bottom, leading to the plush crown that was deep pink and shiny, poking out from its hood. The tip of Chris’ tongue poked out at the sight in front of him. His mouth watered at the thought of having River in his mouth again. He ran his tongue through River’s slit, pressing in and wiggling it.

“Fuck yes, just like that. You feel so good,” River grunted as he grabbed the root of his cock, holding it steady, pushing his slit harder onto Chris’ waiting tongue. River moved his hips, a slow rhythmic thrusting as he fucked himself on the pointed tip of Chris’ tongue. His slit stretched wider with each thrust, and the salty ooze of precum kept spilling into Chris’ mouth. “Just like that, keep your tongue flexed,” River said as he cupped Chris’ jaw, running the pad of his thumb over Chris’ bottom lip, tracking the drool and precum as it leaked down his chin. River wiped the fluid off Chris' face, brought his thumb to his own mouth, and moaned as he sucked it clean. “We taste good.” River's voice was full of gravel as he ran his shaft in and out of Chris' open mouth, his tongue flat as he waited for the command he desired so much. “Suck.”

River's cock hit the back of Chris' throat, and he let out an involuntary moan on the whispered "suck." Chris obeyed like a well-trained dog, tightening his lips around River's length, closing his eyes, letting his body take over—all thoughts leaving his head—as he drifted into a space of nothingness. Let him use you, the voice whispered as Chris' tongue massaged the base of River's cock. Make him feel good, it said as the tip of his tongue hardened to poke out and tickle the base of River's balls. “Ung, Chris. Fuck, so good,” River said, tilting Chris' face. “Look at me,” he murmured as he ran his thumb around Chris' lips pulled tight around his thick length. "Your mouth is perfect."

Chris moaned at the praise. Perfect, perfect, perfect, a word Chris had never deserved, yet River bestowed in on him as if he believed it. Make him feel good; maybe he'll keep you, the voice whispered, but Chris knew it was a lie. No one kept him. But right now, for a little while, he could be perfect for River. Chris ran his hands up River's thighs to grab his ass. "Just like that, harder," River grunted as Chris pulled him closer, burying River's cock deep in his throat, his nose pressed to River's groin—holding him there as Chris' lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

The burn he loved so much when he sat at the bottom of the pool—the sensory input he craved and chased while swimming—he was receiving now while on his knees for River. The same comforting, weightless feeling of being in the water flowed through him as River used his mouth. That familiar pull towards an endless void closed with every second he deprived himself of oxygen. Until suddenly River was pulling his cock from Chris’ lips, “Hey, Chris.” He heard River say through the loud gasps escaping his mouth. “Hey.” River repeated as Chris felt a soft finger wipe away the wetness on his cheek. River made soothing sounds, urging him to take deep breaths, and in Chris’ oxygen-starved haze all his brain could think was Please, one more taste, one more minute of emptiness.

“Please,” Chris begged as River lifted him to his feet, cupping the back of his head and kissing his lips.

“Please, what, baby?”

“More, I want more,” Chris ‌whimpered, still feeling floaty and loose, his body molding to River’s as River sucked on his lips and kissed his way from jaw to ear, pulling the lobe into his mouth and sucking.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Good, so good. Please tell me I'm good, the voice pleaded.

“Okay,” River nodded, “I want you naked and on the couch.” The command was soft yet authoritative, and Chris was nothing more than an eager wanton whore, willing to follow any direction River gave.

River’s gaze was locked on Chris' body as he walked backward. Chris’ eyes locked on the hand stroking River’s cock as he reached behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head. Throwing it to the side as Chris ran the palms of his hands down his firm chest to pluck at his pebbled nipples. A hiss left his lips with the pressure—the tender buds, sensitive and begging for attention. Chris yanked on them and watched as River thumbed at his wet slit and played with his foreskin, pulling on it and rubbing a finger underneath to play with his tip.

“Pants off,” River whispered, pupils blown wide, licking his lips, his mouth dropping open with a pant.

Chris ran his hands down his abs, muscles bunching and tightening as he played with the soft light hair at his navel, running his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and popping the button. The snick of his zipper sounded loud between the muted silence of the house and the panting breaths leaving both of their lips. Chris pushed his jeans and briefs down in one fluid movement, leaving them pooled at his feet, watching as River’s eyes tracked the length of his body. His honey-brown gaze was bright, his eyes wide as he looked at Chris’ cock. Confusion written all over his face, causing a bubble of laughter to leave Chris’ throat. River paused at the sound, the hand stroking his cock stopped moving. Instead, he squeezed the base, the universal sign for ‘I’m too close to coming,’ and took a step forward. Gripping his shaft so hard his knuckles looked white, his brown freckles a stark contrast against them.

“You’re fucking pierced?” River groaned, rubbing the scruff of his jaw with his palm, letting go of his cock to rub his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "Get on the couch," he growled, his voice raw and animalistic, his gaze fixed on his prize, Chris' cock.

Chris backed up, knees hitting the couch, and sat, legs spread wide as he took his cock in his hand and pulled it towards his abdomen. Precum leaked onto his stomach as he displayed his piercings; three curved barbells decorated the underside of his shaft. The intimate jewelry was gotten on a whim in hopes he would feel more attractive to himself and to feel like his body was his own. Not a coach's body to mold and talk about, not his mother’s to criticize and shame, and not a sexual partner to receive pleasure from, but his. His body to do with as he wished, even if he was the only one who knew why he had gotten them. Chris watched as River dropped to the floor, his hands on Chris’ thighs spreading them wide as he leaned in to examine Chris’ cock.

He heard River’s breath quicken, panting so loudly Chris had to glance down at him and make sure he was okay. What he found was River staring, his face beet red, a little twist at the corner of his mouth, a brow quirked in question.

“Hey hasn’t anyone told you it’s not nice to stare?” River looked so fucking hot between his legs, all Chris could do was take deep breaths, hoping to stop the orgasm tingling the base of his spine. “If you don’t hurry and do something, I might come all over your face.” The statement caused a puff of laughter to leave River’s lips, which blew over Chris’ groin like a hot summer breeze. “You like?” He laughed, wiggling his hips, making his cock dance in front of River’s face.

River laughed. “You’re a little shit,” he said before running the tips of his pointer finger between each barbell, from base to tip and then back down.

Chris shivered at the touch and wiggled his hips again, liking the playful energy of the moment, liking that River seemed to enjoy his snark and the piercings he was fondling. “You seem to be struggling to figure out what to do next, Riv. Let me give you a hint. I want your mouth on my cock. I want it so bad...please,” Chris whimpered. He was so hard that if River did not touch him soon, the joke of blowing on his face just might become a reality.

“Give me a second! You're fucking pierced, baby. What the hell, Chris? You have three fucking barbells through your dick. Why didn’t you warn me? I’ve never seen a bejeweled cock before.” River waved a hand over Chris’ crotch. “Fuck, it's so hot. And I have so many questions.”

“We’ll talk later. Make sure your lips cover your teeth. I’m so hard it hurts. Look, Riv, he’s weeping.” He teased, holding the base of his cock, pointing it towards River’s mouth, his precum oozing a steady stream down his shaft. “He’s so sad you haven’t sucked him yet.” Chris cackled at the absurdity of what he had just said, throwing an arm over his mouth, trying to muffle his hysterical laughter. What the fuck is actually happening? I am talking about my dick as if it’s a sentient creature. It’s weeping?

While Chris was absorbed in his inner dialogue, River seemed to have recovered from his shock, and Chris felt a tentative flick over the bottom barbell. Then an unsure lick up the bottom of his shaft, over the other two barbells, up to his slit. River’s tongue dipped into his leaking hole, lapping at the precum.

“Fuck, you taste good,” River said, wrapping his soft wet lips around Chris’ crown and sucking…hard.

“Ohholyfuckinggoddamnedshitmotherfucker. Mmmmm,” Chris moaned and panted, making little needy sounds. The sounds should have embarrassed him, but they didn’t. River’s mouth around his cock felt way too good to be embarrassed. “Mmmm yeah, just like that,” he said as River pulled back and sucked on the sensitive spot under the tip, continuing down his shaft to the first piercing, flicking his tongue over it. River ran the end of his tongue around each one, tenderly, carefully, like he was playing with a new toy. Each of the curved pieces was different. The top one was the smallest, the middle one featured ridged balls at each end, and the bottom one had the largest gauge. River seemed to appreciate each one—pulling on them first with closed lips, then harder with his teeth. “Fuck yes, baby, that feels so good.”

River paused the worship he was giving Chris’ cock, “Does it hurt? Am I-I-I doing okay? Shit, these are fun to play with.”

“No, you're not hurting me, it feels so good. I like when you pull on them. You're doing so well.” Chris carded his fingers through River’s thick hair. “Please don't stop,” he begged as his hips jerked without permission. River’s lips were hot and tight as his drooling mouth surrounded Chris’ cock, mewling as River massaged his piercings with his tongue. Chris tensed and squeaked when he felt fingers drifting to rub at his taint.

River popped off his cock to look up at him. “Okay?” he asked, and all Chris could do was nod and bite his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood. River’s golden eyes, adorned with little creases, stared back at him. His gaze was soft, as if he were asking a question without words.

Chris reached out, as he outlined the smile lines with a fingertip and cupped River’s pink cheeks. “I'm okay,” he said. River smiled before dropping his head, placing little kisses and licks down Chris’ sack, then lifting and nudging it with his nose, making room to kiss and suck his seam. Fuck, no one has ever touched me there. Chris watched as River nosed his way lower, just above his crease. He felt a hot, wet tongue lap at it before River paused again. His pretty eyes, framed by thick auburn lashes and soft, tiny freckles, were determined. River’s fingers danced across the backs of Chris’ knees, pulling his ass to the edge of the couch. He caressed, then massaged the muscles of Chris’ cheeks before spreading them apart. Chris moaned with appreciation as he felt the light brush of a finger over his hole.