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“Fuck,” he ground out, pulling out and palming his twitching dick. “Open,” he rasped, and I parted my lips and stuck out my tongue.
The splatter of his warm jizz hit my tongue first, but then it spurted across my cheek, my lips, and then the tip of my nose. Above me, Max moaned as he unloaded all over my face, splashing me with white ropes as though he were painting a canvas.
I held myself still, letting him cover me in his cum, my own dick suddenly screaming for release. When he sagged back into my lap, he looked satisfied and relaxed.
I closed my lips, swallowing down the salty tang that coated my tongue, humming a little with the flavor.
Max grabbed my face, tilting it up for him to admire. “You wear my cum so well, baby.”
I preened under the praise, and he let go to rub the thick liquid all around my lips and mouth.
When he was done, he grunted. “That looks much better than that awful red paint.”
I licked over my lips, tasting him and no one else, then sucked my lower lip into my mouth with a sigh.
My eyes popped wide when he peeled my boxers off my body and dove onto my dick, swallowing it down in one go. My hips bucked up off the mattress, the movement forcing me even deeper into his throat.
I groaned, collapsing at the tight fit, feeling his warmth envelop me. He sucked deep, moaning around my dick and making it vibrate. I shuddered, automatically spreading my legs, then remembering I wasn’t supposed to.
I started to close them again, but he pulled off to look up my body.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped, my vocal cords wrecked from his fucking. “I forgot.”
“You want to spread those pretty thighs for me, Wes?”
My head bobbed, and my dick jumped.
His laugh was husky, and it made me whimper.
Grabbing my legs, he yanked me farther down the bed so I was flat on the mattress, and then he pushed my thighs wide. Settling between them, he leaped back on my dick, sliding his lips all the way to the base.
I moaned as his head bobbed, my tongue swiping around for more of the leftover release he’d rubbed into my mouth.
His fingers crawled up my body, two delving into my mouth. “Suck,” he said before returning to my dick.
I made them wet, and then he laid them against my twitching hole, and I felt a gush of precum coat his tongue. His laugh was husky as he continued to suck and one of his fingers breached my body. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I exploded, my dick spasming over and over and over as he swallowed down every drop I released.
When I finally collapsed against the bed, he pulled gently from my hole, giving it a little pat and making me smile. He was slower to pull off my dick, but when he did, he laid it carefully against my body before crumpling beside me and pulling me into his arms.
“Do you feel better?” he asked.
“So much better.”
“Was I too rough?”
I laughed. “No. I like it like that.”
“Brat,” he muttered but with definite fondness in his tone.
“Brat tamer,” I countered.
We lay there in post-orgasmic bliss until my phone started to ring.
“Shit,” I swore, jumping up. “I forgot about practice.”
I found my phone in the blankets, an apology for being late already forming on my tongue. But then I noticed the time. I still had a while before I had to leave. So why was Coach calling me?
“Coach?” I answered.
