Page 106 of The Influencer

He whimpers, but kisses me again, using the movement of his body to make me an offer that’s growing increasingly hard to refuse. The way he melts and fits himself to me, the way he urges my hips forward to meet his in a thrusting motion has me begging off, finally, my dick so hard, it’s sore.

“Most men beg for the privilege of breeding me,” he says, frustrated as he rolls away.

“And do you let them?”

“I mean, I have.”

“What about Henry?” I ask, regarding the model who fucked him yesterday.

“He wore a condom.”

“Do me a favor then,” I say. “If that’s what you want—use condoms for two weeks, get tested, and then I’ll go in raw.”

“Fine,” he mumbles, half-heartedly. “Or what if I just didn’t fuck anyone else for two weeks and got tested? Would that work?”

“I told you, I don’t want you to change anything about your life. Especially not for me.”

He huffs, throwing the covers off himself and storming from the room. I smash my face into the pillow and groan. I don’t get the problem here. I’m giving him exactly what he should want—the freedom to keep living his life—and a promise of being here for whatever he wants to do with me. I doubt most men would be so generous with that gorgeous body of his.

In the kitchen, he’s chopping strawberries, and I come up behind him, engulfing him in my arms from behind. He’s in the black robe, a perfect V of white skin exposed all the way down to the tie at his hips.

“I have a knife,” he bitches.

I kiss his neck, letting my mouth suck and lick, marking him up as retribution for my blue balls. “It would have taken me ten seconds to put a condom on.”

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” he says. “The subject’s closed.”

I slap a condom on the counter next to his cutting board. He spots it and turns his face in order to give me an exasperated side-eye.

“Well?” I challenge. “Did you want me inside you or not?”

“I did.”

I slide my hand down his front until I’m able to wrap my hand around his hard cock. “Feels like you might still be in the mood.”

“Don’t you have to work today?”

“Not for another two hours,” I say, my lips moving against his sensitive neck as I tug his dick gently in my grasp.

“I don’t see any lube,” he says.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I came prepared.”

Finally, he pushes aside the knife and cutting board and gives in.

I lift him up, set him on the counter, open his robe, and slide the condom onto my brutally hard erection. After I apply an adequate amount of lube to myself, I drag his ass to the edge until his hole meets the tip of my dick. For me, this is the perfect angle. I’m too tall for a lot of things in kitchens—pendant lights, vent hoods—but one thing I’m the perfect height for is fucking a man in the ass on a standard height kitchen counter. With his robe hanging open, falling halfway off his shoulders, and his legs draped over my arms, I pin his body in place. Then, I fuck him until he can barely hold himself up anymore. He throws his head back, the red mark I just left on his neck stark and filthy.

I pound his ass relentlessly while he takes every thrust with a high-pitched grunt. It’s my new favorite sound in the world, I swear to God. His cock thuds against his abs, and I stare at my own dick driving in and out of his pretty pink hole.

He’s amazingly tight. He’s always tight, and he knows exactly how to milk every sensation out of my cock. His ass works me over, fucking me as hard as I’m fucking him. Our balls slap as we move quicker, and in no time, he’s got me hurtling over the edge, and I’m spilling, jerking his dick until he’s spraying his own chest and moaning loudly.

We pant together once we’re finished, my dick still faintly pulsing inside him. Our first quickie, not counting the blow job in Gideon’s bathroom. He lifts his head, a lock of hair falling over his left eye, and stares at me. No tears, so that’s good I guess, just that hot smirk of his, tempting me to kiss it off his face.

“What are you gonna do with me for the next hour and a half?” he asks.

Fortunately, I have several ideas.

When I come home from work, Jade’s gone full femme on me. But it’s more like indecent porn femme. His hair is in tiny pigtails, and he’s dressed in a red plaid skirt, thigh-high white stockings held up by a garter belt, Mary Jane platform heels, and a white blouse tied at the waist to reveal his midriff.

---