Page 17 of Developing Hearts (Pine Point Fixer-Uppers #5)

Chapter seventeen

Mason

As David’s mouth took in more and more of his dick, Mason’s brain completely short-circuited.

How the hell did I end up here and how the hell do I make sure I end up here again?

He stared up at the ceiling, not because he didn’t want to look at David down there, bobbing up and down, but because when he tried to lift his head, it felt like a giant weight attached to the top of his neck.

Fingers of lightning crackled up from his cock, lancing and arcing through him as David kept on going.

Now and then, sounds of slurping and sucking would break through the otherwise quiet room…

well, those and his own moans, but he barely heard those.

David pulled off and Mason finally looked down…

it was a sight. David was red in the face, eyes watering, lips slick and shiny.

He rested one hand on Mason’s thigh, and the other reached down between his own legs, almost absentmindedly stroking himself.

When he caught Mason’s eye, he grinned. “Just need a break before I eat your ass.”

The lightning stopped and Mason sat up. “You should let me take care of you instead.” David was doing entirely too much.

Mason didn’t deserve to be treated to something like that.

It was astounding enough that a guy who looked like David was even willing to blow him.

“Turnabout’s fair play.” Of course, it helped that Mason was pretty sure he’d enjoy sucking David’s dick almost as much as he’d enjoy getting a rim job.

David stood up and untied the hanging drawstrings on his pants. “Sixty-nine, final offer.” His eyes darted down to Mason’s dick and his tongue flashed out, like he was hungry and looking for a snack.

David dropped his pants, leaving him standing there in a tank-top and some low-rise black bikini briefs, which somehow seemed even more lewd and sexual than if he’d simply been naked.

His imprint was straining the fabric, and once again, Mason got to see the top of his bush peeking through.

Looked neatly trimmed, from what he got to peek at.

Then Mason realized that David was waiting on him. “Deal. Sorry. Sixty-nine. Yes.”

“Well then scoot over.” Mason did and David flopped down on the bed, head toward Mason’s feet. “Now be a good boy and get on top of me.”

Mason went cold, his body feeling like ice cracking. “Are you sure—”

“I’m sure.” He fumbled with the fly of his underwear and pulled out his dick, and Mason’s brain stopped, only barely listening as he took in the sight. “Let me recline resplendent on your bed while you cram your cock down my throat. It’s the simple pleasures, you know?”

Mason started to move, keeping his eyes on David’s dick.

He was uncut, though his foreskin was all the way back, and his dickhead was starting to turn purple, he was so hard.

His bush did appear to be trimmed, tight around the base of his shaft.

A steady line of precum wept from his slit, slicking and shining his entire dick.

But Mason couldn’t just climb on top of him. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we were on our sides?”

David angled his head up and smiled softly. “I do not in fact have glass bones and paper skin, love. You’re not going to break me.” He reached over and took hold of Mason’s ankle, then pulled gently. “Come on.”

Mason had to tell himself this was okay.

His dick made it a pretty easy argument to make.

He felt like he’d blow his load if David even called him a good boy again, so sixty-nine was at least a few steps above that.

David was a full-grown adult, even if he was the kind of adult who couldn’t finish any project he ever started.

Mason positioned himself over David until he was looking straight at David’s slit.

Arms wrapped up around his hips, pulling him down until his dick slid into warmth and pressure yet again.

He knows what he’s doing. David’s precum poured out heavier, and Mason wrapped his lips around David’s tip.

I can’t get so in my own head about this.

David tasted salty, but soapy and floral at the same time.

Every time Mason took his dick to the back of his throat, more precum pulsed out, almost like miniature climaxes.

Mason tried to keep himself elevated, but his arms could only hold out so long as David sucked on him so hard and so furiously.

His muscles didn’t really work, so he laid down, belly tense as he waited for David to freak out.

David sucked faster, harder, and Mason had to start naming dog breeds, US capitols, and Supreme Court justices to keep himself from finishing.

He poured what remained of his focus into bobbing up and down on David’s dick.

He wanted to go deeper, get it all the way in.

He was thick, but not unmanageable, and Mason wasn’t afraid of a few tears.

Every time he got another centimeter past his lips, his eyes watered as it touched the back of his throat.

A new sensation bloomed up. In the haze of everything, it took Mason a few seconds to collect himself enough to recognize it. David’s hand had crept down and gone up the leg of his underwear, and now he was slowly rubbing and nuzzling Mason’s balls.

Mason pulled off long enough to talk. “We need to talk about finishing.” It took effort to keep his voice in some form that could reasonably be understood, and all the while, he kept one hand stroking David, kept the precum flowing. “Do you want me—”

“Cum in my mouth.”

That was the only pause, a brief, hoarse whisper, and then David was back to sucking him off, massaging his balls.

“Okay. Uh, same.” Then Mason had to get David back between his lips. He wrapped them tightly and tried to milk David. Mason was well aware that he wasn’t going to last very much longer himself, so he wanted to make David finish quicker too. Nobody liked to be the first one to cum, after all.

His hole clenched and his toes curled, and he sucked harder, getting another spray of salt and musk. Mason swallowed back precum and moaned and tried to remember if Potter Stewart came before or after Sandra Day O’Connor, but his tricks weren’t holding out.

He felt David’s dick pulse, but it was different, stronger, more forceful.

He dove down on it, sucking back hard, and then he tasted something new.

Not the mild saltiness of precum, but something intense.

Bitter, but not unpleasant. Still salty, but in a more mineral, natural way.

Almost bright. It was cum, there was no denying that, but Mason lapped at David’s head, trying to earn himself even another drop or two.

Then the world shattered apart. He couldn’t hold himself back, and as pieces of himself broke off, floating around the void, the only thing that remained was the intensity of David’s mouth wrapped around his dick.

Constant pressure, overwhelming heat, and lightning that crashed and collided between the shattered pieces of himself.

It was like the power of his climax was the only thing keeping him even remotely together; without it, Mason would have ceased to exist, because it was everything.

It could only have been ten seconds at most, but coming down from the high of the orgasm was still more than a bit disconcerting.

Mason rolled to one side, and thankfully it was the side where the bed was there to catch him.

His dick chilled, exposed to the air-conditioned hotel room again, and he had to work to draw each breath, to fill his lungs enough to satiate himself.

David shifted around so he was laying the same way around as Mason. He draped an arm over Mason and pulled in close. Mason knew it was coming, but that didn’t blunt the impact at all. He still just about melted.

“Good boy.”