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I reach into his briefs and stroke two fingers down his crack. His torso is pumping with his fast breaths. I feel chills pebble his warm skin. I know if I reach around his hips, I'll feel a big, warm boner.
"How full are those briefs now?" I'm whispering near his ear. I stroke his hip. "Roll over on your back for me, and I'll touch it for you. I bet you're a virgin, aren't you?"
"Are you queer?" he whispers as he does what I ask.
I move between his muscular legs, spreading them open for me. I look up at his face as I gather his long, hard cock and his big balls in both of my hands.
"Hell no. I'm with Cara, and I love to eat her pussy. This with you is just a game. You're such a good boy, Miller. If anything," I tell him as I pull his briefs down, freeing his erection, "I want to fuck you up. I want to see you twist around and hear you grunt like an animal. I want to make you come so I can rub my finger in it, and I’ll push my finger into you. And see how you like that."
He's panting as he looks up at me with heavy eyelids. He grabs his own cock as I rub my palm over his warm, hair-dusted quads. I can tell by his face that he's nervous, but he's too dazed to say so.
"There are things that I could give you. That would make you more sensitive, or make you hold your load for longer. I could get you high and put my fingers in you. Just to see how dirty you are. But first I'm gonna suck you off. Not because I like you. It's because you keep on coming in here, seeing me cry. I want to hear you moan and feel you shake. I want to squeeze your balls until you almost can't come" —I do that now, lifting them up off his briefs, which I’ve got tucked behind them— "but I'll make you.
“If you're gonna come in every night and see me crying like a little pussy, I can turn you into nothing but a pussy for me. I'll make your hole drip with your cum. You can run around with all the guys at soccer, but at night you're nothing but a hot, tight hole that wants to be stuffed full of my dick. Isn't that right?"
I bend down and lick behind his balls. The reward is instant. Miller bucks off the bed. I run my tongue over his hole, and he groans, drawing his knees up. I lick my way up his fat sac and trace the tip of my tongue up along his shaft.
I'm so fucking hard inside my boxers—as hard as he is—and my tongue aches from the strain of licking up him. Then I get to his rim, to that little soft spot on the underside of his cockhead, and when I lick it, he moans damn loud and his knees squeeze around my shoulders.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
I lick again there, and his body shudders. Then I wrap my hand around his shaft and brush my lips over the tip of his head. Jesus, he’s slick—and I’m gonna come if I don’t watch out. I lap the precum off him, squeezing his balls a little too hard to keep him from noticing that I’m losing my shit. When he writhes, I seal my mouth around the tip of him and suck the smooth, hot, thick head into my mouth.
“OH GOD…”
That’s right, Mills.
I've never sucked a dick before. It tastes like sweat and musk and just a little bit like cum smells. His is long and thick. It's swollen up. Every time I suck the head of him, he jerks and moans like it hurts. One of his hands grips my hair.
I’m thinking I should suck more of him into my mouth when I roll my tongue around the head of him, and his whole body flinches. Cum jets into my mouth as his muscles quake and constrict. I don't know if I can swallow, so I let it drip into my hand, and when he’s panting—he’s gone nearly limp—I paint his hole and up and down his crack with the stuff. I rub the spunk into his pubes and then up toward his navel.
"That was messy."
A little tremor vibrates through him. His eyes are closed, his lips parted, his big chest pumping as he pants.
"Wake up, Miller." I lean up and nip his earlobe, grab onto his shoulders the way he does mine. When he doesn't sit up, I wrap my arms under his broad back and pull him up against me like a rag doll. His eyes are dazed and confused as they touch mine.
