Page 32 of Out of Bounds
Cliff inhaled the scent of his sweat-soaked shirt. He let out a quiet moan that vibrated against Brennan’s muscles. It took all of Brennan’s resistance not to wrap his arms around him.
He held out his fingers to Cliff again who smelled them hungrily.
“You like that?”
Cliff nodded.
“Say it.”
“I-I like it.”
“What do you like?”
His cheeks flushed with color. “Smelling.”
“Smelling what?” Fuck, he wanted to hear those words come out of that pretty, polite, pouting, jock mouth.
“Smelling your cock.”
“Say it again.”
“Smelling your big, sweaty cock.”
“Very good.” Brennan’s balls tightened with desire, ready to blow. “Take off your shirt.”
This time, Brennan didn’t have to sneak any peeks. He raked his eyes over the firm, toned beauty of his chest, the definition of his pecs and natural outline of his abs - a body earned as a product of pure athleticism.
“Get on your knees.”
“I, uh, I’ve never--”
“Stop talking.” He gave him a sincere nod that told Cliff to trust him.
Brennan stepped forward so his bulging crotch was right in his face.
“Smell.”
Cliff leaned his face into the mesh shorts and took a deep breath. He dragged his nose down the length of Brennan’s rock hard dick, then back up. His cock twitched in approval. Cliff went to grab his shaft.
“I said smell, don’t touch.”
Cliff looked up at him with a quivering, pink bottom lip and eyes that were absolutely twinkling. It almost made Brennan change his mind and demand a hand job. Instead, he gave anoheadshake.
A surge of want crackled through his body as Cliff held his hands behind his back, begging to be tied, begging to be controlled.
“You like the way it smells?” Brennan’s voice caught on the last word, pure desire making his throat go dry.
“It smells so good.” Cliff ran his nose back and forth slowly against his tented shorts, savoring every second. He uttered a low moan against his cock that vibrated through Brennan’s core.
Brennan let out an intoxicated grunt. He curled his fingers through Cliff’s thick hair and mashed his face into his crotch.
“Oh God,” Cliff cried out. The pained relief in his voice nearly broke Brennan’s heart.
Brennan pulled down his exercise shorts to his thighs, leaving only a thin layer of underwear between his aching cock and the basketball player’s watering mouth. Cliff stuck out his tongue and delicately pressed it against his shaft, letting its sweaty warmth light up a new set of senses. How the fuck was he still standing when his whole body was one big wobbly, horny jello mold?
Cliff dragged his nose to the head of his cock. His eyelashes fluttered with life. His tanned skin shined in the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains. Brennan could watch him all day.
Precum dotted into a small, widening wet circle on his underwear. The heat of orgasm rumbled in his balls.
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