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Letting my instincts guide me, I circled my fist around his hard cock, briefly considering that I had no idea what I was doing, but I batted that thought away. I knew what we both liked, so I leaned into the overwhelming need to taste him and make him feel good. I brushed my nose in the wiry hair at his groin, feeling it tickle my cheeks as my fingers lightly stroked his length, getting accustomed to the motion. When he moaned, I figured I was doing something right. So I got brave by licking a hesitant line around his glans.
His fingertips stung against my scalp. “So good.”
I grasped the base of his shaft and rubbed my lips against the head, where the taste of salt burst against my tongue. Interesting. And now I wanted to know more. Opening my mouth, I enveloped the tip between my lips. Nolan’s groan was deep and desperate, so I bobbed my head and took more of him inside my mouth.
Nolan gasped. “Ah, hell.”
When I attempted to fit him deeper, I nearly gagged, so I slowed down, adjusting to the idea of breathing through my nose while I circled his length with my tongue.
I eventually got into a rhythm, and though it felt sloppy and uneven, the noises coming from Nolan made me feel like I was on top of the world. I was not only fulfilling his needs but a visceral one of my own. One I didn’t realize would feel so gratifying.
My other hand gripped his balls, remembering how much he seemed to enjoy that during our jerk-off session. He cried out and began rocking toward my mouth, so that must’ve spurred him on.
I reveled in his taste and smell, in how wild I was driving him as I hollowed my cheeks and kept going, using one hand on the base of his cock and the other on his nuts, gently squeezing and tugging.
That apparently sealed the deal as he moaned loudly. “I’m gonna—”
Warm, salty jizz filled my mouth, but it was so unexpected that I drew back, which made it dribble out of the corners of my lips. Determined to stick it out, I worked my throat to swallow, not thinking about how foreign it felt, only that I’d done that to him. Made him lose his mind.
Nolan grew quiet as he caught his breath, and since my knees were fried, I stood, only now realizing the water had turned lukewarm. When he opened his eyes with a blinding smile, it felt like my heart might crack open. His embrace was tight, his kisses fervent and wet, and we quickly washed up before the water turned freezing.
“Let’s get out of here,” Nolan said, “so I can make you feel good too.”
19
Nolan
“Gonna start packing up, got a show tonight.” I closed the music book and placed it on the shelf in my office. Well, not technically my office. I shared it with other tutors. And during the day, when I worked in the main shop repairing instruments, I was mostly in the back room, which looked like a menagerie of spare parts, strings, and tools.
“Exciting,” George said with a glint in his eye.
“I think so.” I snapped my bag closed. “It must mean something that it never gets old.”
The enthusiasm built in my belly all day until showtime. Plus, I got to hang out with my closest friends. And Ellis. Especially Ellis. In fact, replacing the frets on a sweet guitar yesterday planted a seed of an idea, but I needed to rummage around for more parts first. But just the possibility got me excited, and I thought—hoped—he’d appreciate it too. Anything to put a smile on his face. Damn, listen to me.
“What time do you start playing?” George asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Depends if we have someone opening for us or not. Tonight we don’t, so we’ll get going around ten.”
He chuckled. “I’m in bed by then.”
I grinned. “As you should be. You need your beauty sleep.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He sighed. “Is there anywhere I can buy your music?”
“We have our stuff on Spotify.”
“Say what?”
I laughed as I hoisted my bag on my shoulder. “How about I show you next week? You would need the app and to create an account.”
“Oh, that sounds confusing. My daughter tells me I’m way behind the times. What happened to albums and CDs?”
“Some people still collect vinyl, but times have definitely changed.” I patted him on the shoulder.
“They sure have. I just might take you up on your offer, though, and shock my daughter that I have a spot—what is it called?”
“Spotify.”
Though it was more than that popular site, so I was simplifying it for him. We had a distributor who helped put our music up on lots of different platforms. It was a painstaking process filled with red tape, so we took turns filling out the paperwork every time we had a song to release.
