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Marco: Yeah, I get it.
Me: Why don’t you stop by if you’re not busy? I’m just hanging out, playing my guitar.
Marco: Since when do you play the guitar?
Me: Since 5th grade.
Marco: You’re always full of surprises.
Me: I like surprising you. It’s fun. So, are you coming over?
There was another long pause.
Marco: Sure. I’ll be there in about half an hour.
I pocketed my phone and did a quick cleanup of my lunch dishes. Then I went into my new bedroom to make sure I had lube and condoms in the nightstand. Despite my protestations about sleeping on my brother’s old mattress, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to have Marco fuck me into said mattress.
Punctual as always, Marco knocked on my door almost exactly half an hour later. I opened it with a smile. “Welcome to my humble abode. Come on in.”
I took his coat while he looked around. “Nice place,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. “Do you want something to drink? I have soda, water, or iced tea. I also have Guinness.”
“I’ll take a Guinness,” he said. His lips twitched into a smirk. “You sure you know how to pour one of those?”
I put my hand to my chest in feigned outrage. “I’ll have you know, sir, my Irish roots are highly offended by your insinuation.”
Marco chuckled as he followed me into the kitchen area. I took out two Guinness pint glasses and two cans of Guinness Stout. I poured it like I’d been taught by an Irish bartender to give it just the right amount of creamy, rich head. I snickered when I thought about giving head and glanced over at Marco. He must have been thinking the same thing because his eyes had a predatory gleam.
I handed him a glass and raised mine. “Slàinte,”
Marco touched his glass to mine. “Cheers. Is that Irish?”
I nodded. “It means health.”
I took my first mouthful of the rich, dark brew and came away with creamy foam on my upper lip. I licked it off slowly, watching Marco’s eyes track the movement of my tongue.
He leaned forward and swiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “That mouth of yours is trouble.”
“The best kind,” I said before sucking his thumb into my mouth.
Marco set down his glass and took mine from my hand. He pulled his thumb away and replaced it with his mouth, taking mine in a deep, searing kiss. Our tongues tangled and our limbs entwined. When we finally came up for air, Marco said, “I want that mouth on my cock.”
I ground my hips against him, feeling his rigid length press against my stomach. “I’m down with that as long as I can have that cock in my ass.”
“Works for me.” He put his hands under my thighs and lifted me so I could wrap them around his waist. His casual strength was such a turn-on for me. I pointed the way to the bedroom, not that it would have been hard to find.
Marco sat me on the bed and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. I slid my hands inside, disappointed that he was wearing boxers. I fake-pouted. “No commando?”
He threaded his fingers in my hair and tugged lightly. “Take my cock out and suck it.”
I quickly obeyed his command, taking the familiar, hefty weight in my hand. I licked a stripe up the underside before taking the fat head in my mouth. The salty, tangy taste of precum burst on my tongue, and I hummed with pleasure. Marco’s grip on my hair tightened and he started thrusting, gently at first but with increasing strength as I opened to take him deeper. For a while, there was nothing but grunts and slurps, along with occasional gasps for air. My chin was wet with saliva and my eyes were watering from taking him so deep. I slipped one hand under his balls, stroking and tugging. He grunted as his cock thickened and hardened in my mouth.
Marco let go of my hair and pulled out of my mouth. “Do you still want my cock in your ass?”
I nodded vigorously. “Yes,” I croaked, my throat raw from taking his dick.
I stood and quickly got undressed while Marco did the same. I leaned over to get the supplies from the nightstand drawer, and Marco smacked my bare ass. “On the bed. Hands and knees.”
