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We stand close, breathing the same air, and when he takes my mouth, I lose myself to him. Always have, probably always will. He tastes like that pie, cinnamon and nutmeg, and as I earnestly suck on his tongue, I can’t get enough.
When his hands grip my shoulders, my dick stiffens behind my zipper because I know what’s next and the anticipation is killing me.
“Now suck me good, boss.” Porter’s voice is rough as he urges me down with barely restrained zeal, and the rest is my own eagerness that I get to have him again.
As soon as I’m on my knees, I make quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, and there it is, his tantalizing scent. The one I fantasized about over the years as I tried to hold on to the memories, no matter how painful some of them were.
I bury my nose in his groin, reveling in the smell of soap and sweat and quintessential Porter as his coarse hairs tickle my cheek. “Damn, I missed this.”
“I know what you mean,” he admits, a rare confession. As if realizing his mistake, he follows it up with a challenge. “Not many suck cock better than you. At least, I used to think that. Not sure about it anymore.”
That only lights a blaze in my belly as I brush my lips against his glans, then down his shaft to the root, refamiliarizing myself with the length and girth, determined to show him what he’s missed. To blow his mind. Or at least his load. Just knowing I can turn him on pleases me to no end.
I glance up at him when his fingers dig in my hair, and he guides my lips to his head. “You’re hot for my mouth, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I just don’t want to get caught while you’re taking your time down there,” he grunts out. “I wouldn’t necessarily care, but you would since you’re—fuck!”
I lash my tongue against his slit to disarm that cocky attitude of his, and Porter groans in response. At the first salty burst of precum, my eyes practically roll back in my head.
I hear his breathing intensify, and when I glance up, his eyes are screwed shut, his lips parted as if in silent prayer. Damn, if we had more time, I’d want to wind him up even further, but as it is, we’re taking a risk by doing this in public. Again.
Christ, we’re playing with fire.
But somehow that thought makes my dick so hard in my pants, they might bust open, so I use one hand to unzip my jeans and pull myself out. While I suckle his tip, I slowly stroke myself.
I feel his legs wobble as he moans, so I adjust my weight to prop him up. His eyes are still shut, which doesn’t sit well with me.
“Watch me, Port. I want you to see who made you lose control.”
His eyes spring open, and he meets my gaze. I can see the intensity in them, the warring emotions too.
I lick him from root to tip. “Can’t wait for you to unload your balls into my mouth.”
“Fucking hell, Bishop, you pick up some dirty talk over the years?”
“Maybe.” Or maybe only with you.
I reach down to grip his sac. “Still got a thing for your nuts being played with?”
“Sure as hell do.” But his words don’t match his expression as he trembles, seeming vulnerable right then. To show him how much I remember, I lower my head to pull one of his balls into my mouth. The effect is satisfying as a deep moan releases from his throat.
I take my time licking and sucking his sac as he sways toward me. By the time I get back to his cock, it’s red-tipped and thick with blood. I waste no time taking him between my lips and down to the back of my throat, keeping one hand on his ball sac and the other returning to my neglected shaft.
I get a rhythm going with my tongue and lips and hand as Porter moans shamelessly. It’s so goddamn hot, I want to pull him down to the ground with me so we can let loose and fuck like animals.
“You’re killing me.” His cock is splitting my lips, drool coming out the sides of my mouth when I glance up at him. I’m too far gone to do anything more than hold his gaze. His fingers drift down to my shoulder and then to my ear, where he winds a lock of my hair in such a tender move, my heart stutters.
My eyes roll back as I shut them, doubling down with my lips and tongue and hands until my jaw is aching as much as my knees, not that I’m complaining.
I pull back to catch my breath. “Fuck my mouth, Port.”
I hear the growl in the back of his throat as he grips my hair, pulling it back enough that it smarts. “You don’t have to ask twice.”
He fists his cock before stuffing it back in my mouth and rocking his hips.
My hand is working its magic on my shaft as he practically chokes and gags me with his thrusts. My throat feels bruised, but I also love the fuck out of it and he knows it, so he doesn’t let up. My eyes are watering as my hand flies on my dick, and that’s when I feel him stiffen.
“So fucking good.” His voice is strained as his cum spurts down my throat.
