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He massaged his length. It was hypnotic. I could watch him do this all night and still want more.
I stood there, watching as Oliver dropped his head back and hooked his fingers under the waistband of his briefs. He pulled them over and off, his hard cock falling out and slapping against his stomach, the sound filling the room and driving me wild.
“How in the world did I get so fuckin’ lucky.” I had to say it. Standing there, staring at Oliver’s thick and leaking cock, it did something to me. Made me crazy.
Oliver answered by licking his lips and taking off his shirt. He sat back in the chair, legs spread wide, thighs looking like a proper throne. I wanted to sit on him. I wanted to take him inside me. I’d never liked bottoming before, but with Oliver my body was practically shouting out for it. I could feel myself quivering, a pounding need making me focus on new parts of my body that I typically ignored.
Oliver started to stroke, slowly. He played with his balls in one hand, and with the other, he traveled the length of his cock, inch by sexy inch. When he reached the tip, he thumbed over himself, raising his thumb and showing the clear rope of precome he then spread over himself, causing his cock to glisten, the sound of wet skin working to fan the flames of need. He did it again, but this time, once he was slick with precome, he lifted it up to his lips and rubbed before putting it in his mouth and sucking, his eyes half-lidded, a devilish smirk on his face.
I let out a hiss of air. “Fuckin’ hell.”
He worked himself for me, keeping his eyes locked on me as his strokes became faster. My dick throbbed hard underneath the towel, which was beginning to look like a small shelter for gnomes with how big of a tent I made.
It caught Oliver’s eye. He stopped and nodded toward my crotch, the devilish grin making itself a permanent resident on his face.
I didn’t need words. I opened the towel and dropped it in a puddle on the floor. My cock bounced free, jutting out from me, half-hooded and leaking for my man. Oliver’s eyes widened as he followed my swinging cock, a hand returning to his.
His other hand moved from his balls, slipping down between his legs. He started to grind on himself, his eyes rolling back.
“Lift up your legs. I want to see you play with your ass.”
Oliver looked at me, those big eyes of his burning like hot coals. He scooched back in the chair so that his ass was almost hanging off it. Then, in something that was pulled straight out of my wettest dream, Oliver put both arms under both legs and lifted, exposing himself to me.
His hole pulsed with his breaths. He rubbed his fingers over himself, playing with his hole.
Something had come over me. I needed to have him. I went to him, my cock swinging like a bat as I walked. He looked up at me with big fawn-like eyes, the blue in them feeling like one of those infinity pools that I wanted to dive headfirst into.
I started to drop down to my knees. Oliver still held his legs up, exposing himself. My hands glided over his. I took hold of his legs as I got onto my knees, his ass ready to eat.
I went in, licking his balls first, getting him used to the sensation as my tongue flicked downward, over his sensitive hole. He gasped and jolted like I’d just spanked him.
“Oh, Beck, that’s… whoa. Do it again.”
I dragged my tongue down, back over his hole. He jerked up again, moaning this time.
“Keep going, Beck. Please.”
Every time Oliver said “please” to me, it felt like hitting the turbo button on a race car. It did something to me that I couldn’t explain.
I swirled my tongue around his tight hole, before I spat down into it, getting it dripping wet. And then I stuffed my face with him, swirling and sucking and tonguing. Oliver couldn’t sit still as moans were ripped from his chest. He was white-knuckling my chair as I continued to eat him out. I started having a difficult time holding his legs up with all his movement.
I slipped my tongue in and he almost shot off the chair. I looked up, past his hard cock, and locked eyes with a dizzy-looking Oliver. He had a couple of drops of sweat beading across his forehead.
“Don’t stop” was all he said, and it was all I needed.
I probed again with my tongue, opening him and sending him straight to the stratosphere. His legs fell from my hands and landed on my shoulders. He squeezed his calves around my head as I came up for a breath.
