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So much more.
I had to get rid of the briefs, as sexy as they were. I tugged on the waistband and pulled them over Beckham’s hard dick, releasing him so that I could fully admire the man who stood before me, his cock jutting out into the air, his full balls hanging and tempting me. I licked again at his slit, taking the drops that were still coming.
And then I took him into my mouth, more than just his head. I wrapped my lips around him and felt complete.
“Fuuuuck, Olly.”
I worked him hard, up and down, jerking off whatever I couldn’t fit into my mouth, getting him soaking wet. I didn’t hold back. I wanted him to know how fucking bad I wanted him. How bad my body wanted him. I sucked his cock like my life depended on it, saliva dripping down his balls. I didn’t care how messy I got. I didn’t care about the noises I was making or the tears that were beginning to run down my face as I tried stuffing his entire size down my throat.
I didn’t care about anything except for Beckham and his pleasure.
He started to thrust. He forced his cock deeper down my throat. I worked to fit him, gagging, feeling him stretch my limits. Wanting him to push even further. My dick throbbed. I finished tugging off my pants and dropped my jockstrap, not even caring how cute I had looked in them. I just wanted them off.
Beckham was still thrusting. I could almost get down to the tuft of hair at his base, my nose barely touching it before I’d have to bob back up, then back down, up and down, one hand holding his heavy balls, swirling them as he fucked my throat.
He guided my hand back and let his cock fall from my lips. I looked up at him and licked my wet lips, tasting him all over, an uncontrollable smile growing on my face. “Come here, you sexy fucker.” Beckham’s voice had a tone I didn’t recognize. It burned as hot as an exploding sun and set my pulse racing. I felt it at the base of my spine.
He bent down and grabbed me underneath my armpits. He lifted me and spun around so that he could throw me down onto the bed. I bounced and yelped, my entire body feeling like a firecracker, the fuse having been little, a colorful explosion only a matter of time.
“Touch yourself for me.” His voice still burned hot, and now his eyes took on the same quality.
I listened, my hand gliding over my taut stomach, down to my stiff cock. I rubbed, holding my shaft in my hand and jerking, thumbing over the slit, lifting my thumb so he could see how wet and sticky he made me.
Beckham stood at the foot of his bed, his gaze setting me on fire.
He was so goddamn sexy. The kind of sexy that made my brain malfunction and my dick the boss. He was all man, and all mine. My eyes trailed the slopes of his muscular shoulders, over the strong chest covered in a light layer of silver hair, the same peppered color as his head. His nipples were pebbled, my tongue involuntarily wetting my lips as my eyes dropped lower, down his treasure trail, stopping on his rock-hard, hooded cock. His slit leaked as he pumped himself while watching me.
“You want this, baby?” he asked.
All I could do was moan and keep stroking myself.
“Tell me how bad you want this, baby.”
His eyes were drilling through me. He spit into his hand and returned it to his cock.
“So fucking bad, Beckham.”
“Show me.” His voice was a low growl. “Get on your hands and knees. Crawl over here.”
My blood was on fire. My balls ached with a pressure I didn’t think I could withstand. I did as I was told, rolling over and onto my fours. I looked up at the man who could undo me with a touch alone.
“Come.”
I listened and crawled across the bed toward him.
“Fuccck,” he hissed as his cock leaked a clear rope down onto my tongue. It tasted of sex and man, and I wanted more. So much more.
I started at his balls first, kissing and licking and sniffing, burying my nose into the crook of his thigh, filling myself with his intoxicating scent.
I looked up at Beckham as I slipped his head between my lips. His eyes rolled back, and his words were jumbled. A fresh ocean breeze blew in through the open window, rustling the curtain, almost as if Mother Earth herself was telling me to cool down.
Sorry, Mama, this is only getting hotter.
And then, as if to prove my point, Beckham spit in his hand again, but instead of bringing it down to his already soaked cock, he placed his hand on my ass, his fingers sliding between my crack. There was a wet kind of pressure against my hole as he pushed his finger inside, teasing me with just the tip.
