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He wrapped his left hand around the base of my cock while his right hand still stroked himself. I closed my eyes as his hand firmly moved up and down my length a few times. His hand felt strong and capable. As his hand slowed and pressed against the base of my dick, I felt his lips slowly glide down my shaft.
Holy fuck!
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as Patrick’s tongue stroked my flesh. His hand moved from the base of my dick to gripping my right ass cheek. I’d never been roughly gripped like this while getting blown. None of the women I’d been with had ever been able to handle me like this.
Patrick inched his lips farther and farther down my dick until his nose pressed against my pubes. A familiar strangled noise escaped his throat, which made me open my eyes and look at him. Many women often tried to take me as deep as they could, only to quickly gag on my length. But Patrick trying it told me that he was really enjoying himself. I gently put my hand on the side of his head as he slowly pulled his mouth off my cock. He looked up at me and smiled brightly before returning his attention to my dick. His hand moved up and down my flesh again. I loved the way he roughly and firmly handled me.
“Your cock tastes so good,” he murmured.
He spit on the head of my dick right before his mouth devoured me again. I was in heaven for sure.
“Fuck, Patrick,” I mumbled. I stroked the side of his face with my thumb as he pushed me closer to coming. I could feel it rapidly building. “Damnit, Patrick,” I hissed and tilted my head back.
I swayed in and out of a heavy haze between being in control and letting him control this. Given his past, I was trying to stay alert and completely aware of what was happening, for his sake. But part of me kept succumbing to his control over the situation.
Everything felt incredible, and I was so hard that I ached with the severe need to come. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. It was like he could sense my eyes on him, and he looked up at me. The sight of him looking up at me with a mouthful of my cock just about undid me right there.
“Your mouth is going to make me come, man,” I quickly admitted. He nonchalantly shrugged as if he didn’t mind. “You still stroking your cock?” I asked.
“Mmhmm,” he replied. I wished I could see him stroking himself with my dick in his mouth, but the positioning just didn’t allow for it. His tongue continued caressing my head, and when he pressed the tip of his tongue on the underside of the head, I quickly lost control.
“Dude, Patrick.” It was the only warning I was able to give him before my load burst from my dick.
He took most of the load into his mouth before he pulled his head away from me. I moved my hand off his head and took hold of my cock and stroked my length. He leaned his back against the side of the bed and opened his mouth wide, inviting me to aim toward it if I wanted. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back and was aware that my cum was going everywhere.
My chest heaved as I caught my breath. I opened my eyes and looked down at him when I heard him moan.
“Fuck,” he hissed and leaned his head back against the side of the bed. His hand quickly pulled on his dick until he shot his load onto his abs and chest.
I was far from catching my breath still, but I crouched beside him as he slowly came down. He made a noise each time he exhaled. It wasn’t a whine or a groan of pain or pleasure. It sounded like everything we did quickly caught up to him and he was unsure of what my reaction would be. His eyes focused on mine, and the lines at his forehead appeared. When he looked down at his stomach, I reached out and patted his abs to reassure him.
I sat on the floor beside him and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. Before I pulled him to lean against me, I planted a kiss on his temple. I tugged him closer, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. He was still breathing hard, and I rubbed my hand on his arm and then gave it a few pats. I repeated that a few times, hoping he’d relax.
“I liked your fantasy a lot,” I finally said, breaking our silence. He laughed and then coughed hard. “You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. I just kind of got carried away.” He laughed again, which was followed by another cough. “Fuck.” He sighed loudly and took another deep breath.
“Why did you keep that fantasy to yourself for so long?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I was nervous about how you’d react.” He paused to laugh and cough again. “I think I’m still nervous about your reaction.”
“Well, I think my reaction is strewn all over your chest, your face, some in your mouth. I think the side of your bed caught some too,” I said lightly.
Patrick laughed but coughed and started to grow restless beside me. I thought he’d do better if he stood and stretched.
“Come on, let’s get up,” I suggested as I patted his arm again. As soon as we stood, I reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and handed it to him. I imagined he might be thirsty after all of that. While he drank from the glass, I assessed him. “Need anything or want a washcloth?”
“Yeah, I can get it.”
“Let me,” I insisted and quickly went to his bathroom to get the washcloth. I ran it under warm water and wrung out the excess, then grabbed a dry one as well before heading back into his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed but stood when I approached. He held his hand out for the washcloth, but I moved his hands out of the way. I wiped his face off first and then moved down to his neck and chest.
“I can do that, Hollis.”
“Good for you. So can I.”
I moved quickly but made sure I wasn’t rough or careless with him. He still had stomach pain from time to time from when his stepbrother would punch him there, so anytime I touched his stomach, I was always careful. And haste would make him feel like I didn’t really want to help clean him up. He kept reaching for the washcloth, saying I didn’t have to do it. I finally grabbed his hands.
“Stop. I’m doing it not because I have to, but because I want to,” I explained as I looked into his eyes. “You are not a burden to me. You never have been.” I went back to cleaning him up and then drying him off. I leaned in and kissed his forehead and then took hold of his shoulders and turned him to face the bed. “Get into bed,” I said. I set the washcloth on his nightstand and propped my knee on his bed. “Scoot, man. I’m a big guy and can’t fit on this sliver of space.”
