AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thepoint,” I grumble, “is that I’m going to hate every minute of this.”
Both of us look down at the monster erection straining the zipper of my jeans. “Oh God,” I whimper, my stomach twisting in panic.
“Hey.” He snaps his fingers. “Focus on me.”
I can’t find any reassurance in his eyes, no kindness, but somehow that comforts me. “I’m scared.”
“You probably should be.”
I tighten my fist around the handle until my bones creak. “Look. It doesn’t matter if I’m bi or not because I’m going to get this out of my system and go back to being straight. For the rest of my life. That’s how it has to be.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“But I think I want you to make me regret it.”
Everything’s quiet except the humming engines. Straightening up, he pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it carefully over the sink, folding his glasses on top.
The smell of old books and spiced leather fills my nostrils as he prowls up to me like a panther. He pinches the brim of my Hawkeyes cap in two fingers, tugging it off my head and tossing it somewhere behind me. Then his nose is trailing through my hair as his hands work easily and efficiently at my belt buckle. I gasp into the crook of his neck when he unzips my fly and slides one big hand inside, cupping me through my boxers.
I hear myself whine and feel my hips pressing into his palm. He lets me for a moment, then takes it away and tugs my jeans off my hips. The sound of my belt buckle hitting the floor feels lewd and dirty. I guess he reads my mind, because he tilts my head back and murmurs against my jaw, “This was all your idea, wasn’t it? This is exactly what you wanted.”
Dazed, I nod. This time the ghost of his smile is clearer, impossible to hide completely.
My cock betrays me when he eases my boxers around my thighs, jutting out obscenely, tip flushed dark. He freezes, and when his lips part nothing comes out. I’m so overwhelmed that at first I can’t think why. I’m notthatbig. When it hits me, I grin so wide it hurts my jaw. “What do you think, huh?”
I can hear a deep rumble in his chest as his thumb traces the thick titanium ring piercing the top of my cockhead. He trails lower, along the soft, shivering skin of my shaft, until he reaches the Jacob’s Ladder climbing the underside. I completely fail at biting back another moan when he presses harder, grinding his finger over the ridges of the barbells and dropping into the spaces between,one, two, three, four. “I don’t like surprises,” he says quietly. “Straight Midwest boy.”
“You like this one.” He can’t keep his eyes off them, and it’s making me even harder. After all the pain and adrenaline and never-ending aftercare, no one has gotten to admire the finished product except me and my last girlfriend. “They’re supposed to feel crazy good. They made my ex scream when she came.”
He groans softly, like I just broke him. “What else are you hiding?” His thumb finds the corner of my mouth, then hooks its way inside without warning, pushing my teeth apart, which wasnotin my dreams but sure as fuck will be now.
“I’m a man of many mysteries,” I announce proudly, indistinctly through a mouthful of his thumb, and our eyes meet. I’m fighting not to laugh, because what a fucking stupid thing to say, and suddenly I realize he is too, his eyes softening. He looks so much younger like this. Fighting a strange urge to let go of the handle and cup his face in my hand, I shift my focus to his lips. They’re full but not thick, perfectly shaped. “Can I ask you to put my cock in your mouth?” I blurt, that whole saying-things-without-thinking problem again, still muffled by his finger on my tongue.
The skin around his eyes wrinkles a little. He doesn’t look mean, not really, no matter how much he wants to think he does. “I don’t know. Can you?” His wet thumb slides out along my lip.
I want to say something hot, something that gets to his cock the way he gets to mine, but he’s so damn suave and intense and I’m just a low-class tornado of bad ideas and awkward fumbling. So I let out the first, most honest thing to come to my head. “I’m scared to, because I’m still trying to prove you wrong. If you suck my cock, I think I’m gonna lose the argument. I think I’m gonna say anything you want.”
This beautiful, formidable man sinks to his knees in front of me without a word, wrapping his hands around my thighs. From this angle I can see the hint of a muscular back and wide shoulder blades down the collar of his dress shirt. Jesus Christ, what he must look like naked.
I go up on my toes with a choked-off sob when he presses his knuckles under my swollen balls and runs the flat of his tongue up the bottom of my shaft. He angles his head, exposing his powerful neck, and licks along one side and then the other, back and forth and all over like a kid who is having more fun catching drips off his popsicle than actually eating it.
“If you’re not going to do it right, then fucking stop,” I hiss, jabbing him with my knee to try and get away. I will die, stone cold six feet under, if I come all over his face before he even starts the blowjob.
He flutters his tongue under the slick head, some kind of witchcraft move that sends lightning through every single part of my body, and before I can stop myself I let go of the handle, grabbing onto him for dear life.
I’m lost. I don’t have a fucking hope. The hard slope of his shoulder, the cool linen of his shirt, my thumb resting along the swell of his collarbone. It’s one thing to get hard when a very skilled man sucks your cock. Anyone would—at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s another to realize that everything in your life would make sense if he would only let you touch him and hold him and worship every inch of his perfect body.
When he stands up, I yank my hand back. “I’m sorry,” I stammer. “Shit.”
Underneath all the control in his eyes, I see a flash of something I recognize. The feeling of writing out texts full of your darkest secrets and telling yourself you’re about to hitsend.
You’re alone, too. Almost as lonely as I am.
“It’s okay if you go,” I ramble. “I broke your rule. You already gave me plenty to dream about. You’re welcome to dream about me, too, if you want.” It’s supposed to sound like a joke, but my voice wobbles instead.
He looks from his jacket to the door, then back to me. Grabbing the back of my head and pulling our foreheads together, he speaks quietly through lips damp with my precum. “Last chance.”
I nod quickly, keeping my mouth shut so I don’t say the wrong thing, and grab the handle again even though my shoulders are killing me. He slides back to his knees, gripping my hip, and noses the tip of my cock.
