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His cock popped free from the waistband of Lazlo’s shorts. Long and beautiful, with the slightest upward bend. I loved the way he grunted when I teased him. With a hand around his base, I held his cock and tickled his veiny skin with just the very tip of my tongue. It drove Lazlo crazy.
“Not yet,” I licked my lips, running my flattened tongue up the underside of his cock, before wrapping my lips around his weeping cock. “Baby, you taste so good.” I crooned. “Are you gonna come for me? You know how much I love it when you do.”
His balls lay hidden in the confines of his shorts, warm and heavy. With a firm hand, I caressed them, pinching them with just enough pressure to make Lazlo’s cock twitch.
“Dax,” He groaned, pushing his cock against my soft palate, trying to force it to the back of my throat. “More. Please more.”
“Patience.” I mumbled around his cock, “Just a few more minutes. Be good.”
We didn’t have quite the same dynamic with one another, as we did with Margaux. With her, there was a clear pyramid. I bottomed, Lazlo topped me and bottomed for Margaux. When it was just the two of us, sometimes one of us led, and other times follow. It depended upon who needed to fly more.
Lazlo needed to feel the connection more than the release. His “fly” moment was in knowing someone saw him and his needs, enough to put his pleasure above their own. For me, I drew out his pleasure. Made him work for it. Wiggle with desperation. It made his satisfaction so much sweeter.
“Do you want me to fuck you, baby? Or should I finish you like this?” I asked.
If I fucked him, he’d come in two strokes. His cock, already thick and ready to blow, leaked pre-cum into my mouth. His hips rocked in concert with my sucking and bobbing.
“Dax,” His tongue was thick and lazy in forming words, “your mouth feels so good.”
“I love that I can make you feel like this.” I tell him, running my hand up his shaft, caressing his balls, before pressing further back to massage his asshole.
“Hey, that’s not fair.” He was drunk with desire. Despite his protests, he lifted his hips even higher off the couch to give me better access. “You know that’s gonna make me blow.”
“Give it to me.” I ask, nibbling gently on his mushroomed head. “Then we take this upstairs for round two.”
“You’re so good to me.” He caressed my head, his fingernails stretching far enough to tickle my neck. “I love how I can fuck you whenever I want.”
He pumped into my mouth with focus. He tried to pump with quick thrusts, but I held his hips down with my hands. I took him to the back of my throat and further down, swallowing the head into my throat.
“Fuuuuuck Dax. That’s so good.”
His thrusts got sloppy. One moment he’d pump into my mouth with shallow thrusts and the next he’d push to the back of my throat with such force, I’d fight the gag that kissed his cock and started the whole pattern over again.
“Touch it.” He begged. “My asshole. Touch it again.”
This was the version of Lazlo I loved the most. When he was so twisted in his own hedonistic desire that he’d totally lose any modicum of propriety. He demanded any nasty thing he could think of.
“Give me two fingers.” His voice dropped an octave and filled with gravel. “No, don’t like them. Stick them in dry. Don’t be gentle about it. Yes—force them in.”
As I tried to swallow him down, I pushed with all my might. I knew where his demands were going. That hard little nub escaped my exploration. Once discovered, though, it would send him into the stratosphere.
The moment I brushed against it; he fell into the beginning throes of an orgasm. A few gentle presses against it, and Lazlo became a voiceless mess of sensation and feeling. He’d surpassed the point where capable of words. Instead, I sucked and pressed, and occasionally twisted my fingers while Lazlo swore, gyrated his hips, and thrust in and out of my mouth.
“I can’t reach it.” He whined. “It’s right there, just out of reach.”
“What about this? Does this help you?”
I stood and dropped my shorts. My stiff, weeping cock sprang free, and I yanked on it a few times, watching how Lazlo’s pupils dilated. I collected the few pearly drops spitting from my tip and painted them across Lazlo’s lips. He licked his licks clean, wrapping his hand around my cock as if to take it in his mouth. I had other plans.
“When we’re with Mistress, you seem to enjoy when we do this.”
I balanced my legs over his, lining our cocks up. The moment our cocks lined up, he thrust against mine with abandon. There was no grace to his movement, no fluid up and back or side-to-side motion. He was like a Derby pony who’d just heard the starting gun.
“Slow down, baby.”
I held his face between my palms, feeding him my tongue, while my hips gyrated in concert with his, slowly the pace so that every millimeter of our cocks rubbed against one another.
“We have all the time in the world. Just relax. I’ll drive.”
