Page 11 of Free Fall
“But…” He gently tugs out of me, and I moan as his cock leaves my body, making me feel weird and gaped open. Dan kneels up, hunches over me, and spreads my ass cheeks with his palms to take a look. “Does it hurt? I’ve got some arnica and—”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I lie. Because of course it does, but Ilikehow it hurts, and I really want him to get hard again before too long and see if he can bring me off at even half the strength of that last orgasm. Holy crap, coming out to this stranger’s van has been the best decision of my entire sexual life, it seems.
That’s confirmed when he says, “If you’re sure,” and then leans down and gentlykisses my asshole, just a sweet press of his lips.
My hips twitch involuntarily, and I moan. He laughs softly, and then licks it lightly. “I don’t taste any blood,” he says, and then, with hands gentle on my ass cheeks now, he proceeds to rim me again.
His thick tongue. Slick lips. Sharp teeth. The works.
Tears well in my eyes as he pleasures my hole. I shake like a leaf, spread out on his mattress, pierced to the quick. I’m not sure what’s going on in me, but tears slide down my cheeks as he works. Chills and pleasure almost too good to bear sweep over me and I groan and gasp.
Dan doesn’t act like my tears are weird when he looks up from his dedication to my hole and sees them. He just runs his thumb through the wetness on my cheek, and asks, “These tears are good? Or bad?”
I whimper, “Good.”
“Nice. I can’t wait to fuck you again.” But then he goes back to work on my hole, and I’m delirious by the time he finally slides into me for the second time. I’m dazed, muddled, and transported by pleasure. Somewhere deep inside, I recognize that I’m vulnerable and exposed. Dan could kill me right now, and I’d simply let him, drowning in my enraptured state.
But he doesn’t. Unless you count the exquisite and painfully goodla petite mortshe subjects me to over the course of the night. And, in that case, he kills me three more times before the sun comes up.
CHAPTER THREE
Dan
I’ve fucked alot of men, but Sejin is definitely the hottest guy I’ve been with in a long time. Maybe ever. As the night turns toward morning, I’m tempted to tell him that, but then I remember what he said when he first arrived, something about guys thinking fucking him is special because he’s Asian. Fucking himisspecial, but I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with him being born in Korea, and everything to do with what an open man he is in bed.
Some guys resist me when I want to lick their hole. They say it’s dirty, or it’s not right, or some other bullshit. I always stop, of course, and let them miss out on a great time. Consent is consent, and sex requires it. But I feel sorry for them for being so uptight.
Sejin, though, let me lick and suck and eat him to my heart’s content.
I don’t know why I like rimming guys so much, but I love it. The taste and scent of them, the way their asshole spasms against my mouth, and the little gasping sounds they can’t help but make when I really go to town on their hole are divine to me. Like definitely better than anything I’ve ever felt in church, and almost as good as sending a big, new-to-me wall route.
Last night, I rang the bell of Sejin’s body over and over and made him sing with pleasure all night long. It was so good I’d nearly come before I wanted to just from the wild noises he made. So sexy to hear that much gratification let loose shamelessly into the night.
It’s sometime after four a.m. now, and I’m still high from it all. I start to protest when he gets up, but stop myself. Instead, I stretch out in the sweat-and-cum-stained sheets and watch him get dressed in his loose sweats and t-shirt. Licking my lips as he catches his long hair in a thick black band that looks like it’s not strong enough to hold all of it, I feel my groin stir with blood even though there’s no way I can get it up again this soon. He runs his hands through his ponytail and my fingers ache to touch the silkiness of all that hair again. But we’re done fucking, so I don’t have permission anymore.
“It was—” Sejin breaks off, turning to me, his eyes shiny from lack of rest and hours of hedonistic pleasure that’s sent endorphins cascading through his system.
“Fun,” I prompt. Because that’s what you say to a guy you’ve hooked up with. You say it was fun, and they agree, and then they leave. And now Sejin needs to go because that’s how hookups end.
Weirdly, though, I don’t really want him to leave. I mean, my balls are empty, I’m fucked out, and my last orgasm actually hurt. We truly can’t go again, so he should head out. What else am I going to do with him? I ought to get some breakfast in my gut and find some easier bouldering to do after my sleepless night. Training for the ascent. That’s what I’m here for.
“Yeah, it was fun,” Sejin says, but he sounds confused, like that’s not all last night was for him.
Tilting my head, I take in his tall, lithe form. He’s so gorgeous, likedreamyhot, with his beautiful skin and hair, his dark eyes, and his mouth all red from so much kissing. I wish I’d licked his pert nipples more before he’d gotten dressed. Now they’re lost forever beneath his baggy t-shirt. What a shame. They’re such a sweet size and a pretty brown color.
“You enjoyed it?” I ask because I need to make sure. Consent is something I’m big on. I’m not good at reading body language,so I try to always get it verbally when I can, but sometimes, during sex, things just go the way they go, and—
“Enjoyed it?” Sejin says with a strange laugh. It doesn’t sound like the laughs that’d burbled out of him the night before when I stroked him in places that tickled, and it doesn’t sound like the bells that made me shiver in delight when he first arrived. It’s a hurt little laugh. I don’t get it.
“Yeah, I enjoyed it.” Sejin swallows and then shrugs, affecting a strange approximation of the smile I saw in his profile pic. The structure is the same—lips up, eyes going half-moon, but there’s a certainlifemissing from it. “Best hookup I’ve ever had.”
“Me too,” I say honestly, because it certainlywasthe best hookup I’ve ever had. Best sex, period. Hands down. One for the record books. Or my journal, at any rate.
“Yeah?” His eyes take on a gleam that makes my tummy flutter.
“For sure.”
“Yeah,” he says again, nodding his head. “How long are you here?”