Page 174 of Should the Sky Fall

“Not good?” he asks, disappointed. He’d really hoped Dawson would like this. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about doing it to him.

“N-no,” Dawson chokes out. “I mean, I don’t—you’ve never—we’ve never done…that.”

Oh. What a waste. “I should’ve watched more porn.”

Dawson barks out a laugh. “That’s not—oh my god.” He trails off into a guttural groan when the flat of Cal’s tongue licks a long stripe between his cheeks. Cal does it again, slower, gaining confidence now that he’s sure Dawson doesn’t hate this. In fact, he sounds very far from hating it.

“C-Cal.” He lets out a sob that shoots straight to Cal’s cock, making him grind against the sheets. “Fuck.”

Cal spreads his cheeks wider, eager to find what other sounds he can extract from Dawson. He circles Dawson’s rim before pushing inside with his tongue and nearly comes back up with a broken nose because Dawson’s whole body jolts off the bed.

“Holy motherfucking shit. Stop laughing!” Dawson cries indignantly, but doesn’t do much to stop Cal. Cal’s never heard such language from him, and he doesn’t know what to do with the rush of power it gives him.

“Relax, Dawson.”

“You rel—ahh, god.” He grips the pillow and buries his face in it, his knuckles turning white.

It only spurs Cal on.

He runs his tongue through Dawson’s crease, doing it over and over until Dawson’s swearing becomes unintelligible, until he can only muffle his sobs into the pillow and his ass is dripping with spit.

“I-I’m gonna—Cal—”

He sounds absolutely wrecked, exactly like Cal wants him.

Cal redoubles his efforts, pulling out every trick he saw in the porn vid until his tongue grows tired and his jaw aches. He doesn’t stop, determined to bring Dawson to the pinnacle of pleasure first.

He’s been so focused on Dawson he hasn’t noticed his own building need. The drag of the sheets over his cock is heavenly, and he rolls his hips into the mattress in tandem with the sweeps of his tongue.

Dawson’s body locks up a few seconds before he lets out a desperate sob and chants Cal’s name, a series of violent shudders sweeping through him. His hips jerk against the pillow and then he stills, going completely boneless.

Feeling Dawson’s muscles tense and relax under his hands and mouth, Cal grinds into the mattress two, three times, before his cock pulses and spills against the sheets. For a few seconds his vision whites out, and when he can see again, Dawson hasn’t moved an inch.

“Dawson? Are you okay?” His voice is hoarse, his jaw aching, and he’s never felt better in his life.

Dawson mumbles something Cal doesn’t catch, but he considers it affirmative.

“I take it that porn isn’t completely unrealistic, then?” he asks with a smirk, kissing Dawson’s cheeks where his hands left an imprint.

Dawson turns his head, his eyes narrowed into slits. He looks a wreck, his lips red and puffy from being bitten on, and droplets of sweat are clinging to his forehead.

“Don’t be so smug. It doesn’t suit you.” He starts to roll over. “Let me help you out.”

“No need.”

“Huh?”

“I finished when you did.”

Dawson gapes at him. “Seriously?”

To prove it, Cal shifts until Dawson gets a clear view of his softening cock and sticky sheets. They’ll definitely have some laundry to do later. Totally worth it.

“I loved seeing you like that, loved knowing I was making you feel good.”

Dawson huffs. “That’s an understatement.”

“Does that mean we can do it again?”