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He’s lost the ability to speak now, he’s just panting, fucking against my hand. Begging. Drooling for it. And I give it to him. Give it to him so fucking good until he’s shooting his release across my hand that’s working his dick. I work him until he’s begging me to stop, and then I massage it just a little more, wringing him completely dry until he’s slumped against the tree, breathing as if he ran a mile.
“Can’t move, can you?”
“Ngh.”
“Come on,” I say, pulling my finger from him, relishing in the fact that his ass seems to clench around it, not wanting to let me go. I wipe the cum from my hand on my shirt before helping him shuffle over to the hammock. He plops down into it with a grunt, the trees groaning under his weight.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans, rocking slightly. His pants are still around his ankles, his limp dick settled on his thigh.
“Come here,” he says, holding his arms open.
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but I climb up next to him and settle into his embrace. He smells like cum and sweat and something uniquely him. And against my better judgment, I allow myself to just be held.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Chase
My ass is high. My dick too. Feel like I’m floating with each sway of the hammock. Gonna stick something permanently up my butt so I can play with my prostate all day. Who knew that was a thing? Should have done some more research into this. To think that I could have been coming like that this entire time.
“You okay?” Holden asks, and I sigh, not able to form words at the moment. That experience was…existential. I have never come that hard in my entire life.
“Mmm,” I hum and absently stroke his back. I can feel his hard cock pressed against my side, and I wanna do something about it, but not sure I can move right now. My entire body feels like jelly.
“Feeling it, aren’t you?” he asks, and I hum my response again. I’m not as high as I was after the coconut bong, but I feel light, like air.
Just blow me away.
“Gonna suck your dick.”
“No you aren’t,” he replies and then taps a rhythm on my chest.Tap, tap, tap.
“Mm, yes I am. When I can move again.”
He huffs out a small laugh. “You do have a sensational mouth.”
“Yep.”
“But you’re high.”
“My dick and balls want it. Gimme.”
He laughs at how pathetically needy I am and then leans up and presses a kiss to my mouth. Yeah, I like that too. Want more.
“Come on, we should go home. It’s dark.”
He moves off of me, but I can’t quite get up. I’m stuck. Hammocks don’t work right. They trap you, like carnivorous plants. Doesn’t help that my legs are all tangled up in my shorts.
“Can’t get up,” I say, shifting from side to side and only succeeding in swinging the hammock back and forth. “Gonna live here now.”
Holden peers down at me, his eyes raking across my chest and down to my dick which is straining up toward him, begging for him to sit on it.
“You look pathetic.”
“I am a sad, sad man.”
“Come on, up you go,” he says, leaning down, but instead of wrapping my arms around his shoulders and letting him leverage me up, I grab on to his crotch and squeeze.
And there it is. Yessiree.
