Page 38 of Hotshot

Denny nodded, squeezing my cock on the upstroke, milking my slit. He dragged a thumb through the precum and used it as lube, circling the tip over and over. It was too much and not enough.

“Can I taste?” he asked, gazing at me through hooded lids.

I slicked my forefinger and pressed it to his lips. “Try it.”

He opened his mouth and sucked my finger. Denny’s obscene moan echoed off the high ceilings and wrapped me in knots of thick desire. I hadn’t “experimented” in years, hadn’t realized I’d signed on for torture. And make no mistake, he was fucking torturing me.

Denny released my finger and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Salty, but good.”

“Have you tasted your own cum?”

“Yeah, but this is different. Better.” He tilted his chin, jacking me in long, languid strokes. “I don’t know if I’m ready to suck your cock, but I feel like I should do everything at once. This is a dream. It’s like it’s not even real.”

“It’s real,” I assured him, nibbling his bottom lip before crashing my mouth over his.

I held nothing back. I ground my bare cock against his denim-covered one, pumping my hips in a quest for friction as I sucked on his tongue. I couldn’t get close enough. He tasted like mint and he felt like sin personified, I mused, pushing his jeans over his ass.

It was a moment of truth. If he was going to freak out, it would happen now.

But he didn’t.

He angled his head, deepening the connection. His hands strayed from my pecs to my waist, and finally, he clutched my ass, meeting me thrust for thrust. No hesitation.

I could have come like this but damn, I wanted this to be good for Denny. And I just…needed to touch him.

I palmed his erection through the cotton barrier, slid it along his shaft, then slipped my hand in the front of his boxer briefs. I wrapped my fingers around his thick cock, stroking him to the rhythm of our dueling tongues.

“Oh, fuck. That’s good,” Denny gasped, shoving his jeans and briefs completely out of the way.

I nipped his jaw, rolling his nipples between my thumbs. “I can make it better.”

I kneeled at Denny’s feet and swallowed him whole.

Maybe I should have proceeded with care, taken it easy, and made an effort not to overwhelm him, but I’d lost control a while ago. I wanted things I couldn’t ask of a newbie. I could hint at them, though. I massaged his inner thigh and pushed his legs apart, ghosting my thumb over his crack. Denny pumped his hips faster, almost, but not quite fucking my mouth.

I loved it. I fucking loved it. I picked up the tempo, sucking him with gusto as I traced his entrance with the tip of my fingers. He stilled for a beat, but when I oh, so gently pushed one inside, Denny went wild.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and let his hips fly. I jerked my cock, teasing his entrance with one finger while he fucked my throat in earnest. Tears blurred my vision. He was big and strong, and he was giving me everything he had.

I added the tip of a second digit and that was it.

Denny cried out a warning. “I’m coming. I’m…”

I swallowed every drop, shuddering through my own orgasm. Cum hit his ankles and spurted at his feet. I grabbed the rung on the nearest barstool, trembling through aftershocks.

I felt unraveled and undone as I licked my numb lips and tried to remember my name. It would have been nice to bask in a post-orgasm glow, but as my breathing evened out, I braced myself for anything.

This was no ordinary hookup. I’d just blown Denver’s rookie hotshot and while I was pretty sure he’d enjoyed himself, there was a chance I’d just taken the “sexy angle” a step too far.

I stood, kicking my jeans and boxers aside to avoid tripping, and regarded him carefully. “You okay?”

Denny nodded slowly. “Yeah. That was…good.”

I arched a brow. “Good?”

He smirked. “Very, very good.”

Okay, so not too freaked out.