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Fuck, it’s a damn big cock. I know I’ve seen it before, but its size always shocks me. In a good way.
And the thought of that cock filling me up, spreading me, is enough to snap the pressure behind my balls. I come like a freight train, a strangled cry leaving my throat raw as I shoot all over my chest.
I fall back on the bed, and fuck, the vibrator is still jolting me from the inside. Have to pull it out. I groan, still shaking with my release, my hand wrapped around my spasming dick.
“Son of a bitch, Jet.” Joel’s gaze is glued to my dick and to the vibrator still stuck inside me, his hand stroking his cock hard and fast, from the base to the purple, wet head. “Take that thing out of you. Slowly. Keep stroking yourself as you do it.”
I grimace as I reach for the vibrator, riding the last wave of pleasure, his order bypassing my conscious brain and shooting straight to my nerve endings.
With a shaky hand, my other hand clenched around my softening dick, I turn the vibrator off and tug it out of me, inch by inch, and as it slips free, I hear Joel groan out loud.
He’s coming, his cum hitting his pecs in long spurts. I stare a
t his jerking cock and his open mouth, dazed, thinking, this is for me. Not for Candy or any other girl.
He was hard for me, came for me. Right? Christ, I really hope this won’t come back and bite me in the ass in the morning.
As if that’s possible. I never learn, do I?
***
I wake up in the night in my bed, covered up to my chin, trembling with some half-remembered nightmare and Joel standing at my door, asking if I’m all right.
Then it’s morning and the smell of coffee draws me out of my den. Scratching at my naked chest, watching white flakes flutter to the floor—dried cum, oh great—I pad to the kitchen.
Joel is leaning against the table, a mug in his hands. “Morning. Wanna go running with me today?”
I take in his running shoes, track pants and hoodie, the lines of sweat at his chest. “You just went.”
“A short run, in the park.”
I grab a mug, pour myself some coffee, add sugar. Take my damn time. “Why?”
“You and I need to talk,” he says and fuck, my blood pounds in my ears.
“Sure we do.”
“We could…Why the fuck are you butt naked?”
I turn around, prop my hip against the counter and sip my coffee. “Nothing you ain’t seen before.”
Or last night.
He opens his mouth, closes it. It’s kinda funny. Makes me feel a little guilty for making him uncomfortable.
But hey. He’s seen me naked a thousand times at the gym showers. And if he’s uncomfortable because last night he came as he watched me fuck myself on a vibrator, well… Accepting he likes dick as well as pussy won’t end his world.
It sure as hell didn’t end mine, and I had worse to contend with back when I realized.
Yeah, I’m in full fuck-you mode today, and I’m not even sure why. It’s Sunday, and Joel wants to go running with me.
Oh, and talk.
Dammit.
It doesn’t help that he’s openly staring at me, at my dick that’s up to greet the new day. Hey, morning wood is a fact of life, and damn but Joel looks good all sweaty, manly and broody in the watery sunlight spilling through the kitchen window.
“So talk,” I mutter.
