Page 38 of Best Served Cold

“What are you doing?” Zane hissed against my lips as I worked the button of his fly free and grabbed at the pull of his zipper, my fingers too big and clumsy for the delicate task.

“What do you think?” I got the zipper down and stroked his shaft over his briefs.

He wasn’t completely hard, but his loud moan was enough encouragement to do it again.

He growled against my lips, stroking me harder.

His cock thickened under my palm. I shoved my hand into his briefs and gripped his shaft.

It was a bit strange to be touching a dick that wasn’t mine, but feeling him get harder, knowing it was because of me, overrode everything except the burning desire to watch Zane come apart.

I stroked him once, then again, slowly dragging my hand up his length and twisting at the head the way I liked.

He moaned against my mouth, his big body shuddering.

Fuck yeah.

Still kissing him, I shoved the waistband of his briefs under his balls, releasing his cock so it sprang free. I squeezed it hard.

I wanted to look down so I could see his dick, see how it fit in my hand, but he was kissing me so frantically I couldn’t pull away.

Using my body weight, I shoved him back and flipped our positions so he was against the wall.

He let out a gasp, breaking the kiss. I tugged his hand from my cock and jammed my hips against his, fitting our dicks together.

His moan sent another of those flurries through my body. I thrust hard.

The slide of his shaft and the pressure on my piercing was exquisite. But what really ramped up my arousal was how much this new position was affecting Zane.

A constant stream of moans and gasps fell from his lips, his cheeks blush-stained, his eyes wide and filled with emotion. Lust, confusion, anger, and fear all warred with a myriad of others I couldn’t even begin to pinpoint.

I wanted to tease him, to taunt him about how he was the one losing control this time, but I couldn’t form the words as we stared at each other, caught in a feedback loop of desire as I frotted against him.

Strong hands gripped my hips, forcing me to go harder and faster as Zane began to move with me, humping me with the same fervent need that consumed me.

“You gonna come?” I murmured. “Shoot your load all over me?”

I expected him to make a disparaging remark about how close I was. Instead, his eyes rolled back and his lips parted in a silent cry.

“That’s right, Zane. Give it to me.”

He shuddered hard and groaned, the sound low and deep. Wetness pooled between us, soaking into my skin.

Feeling his cum should have been weird, but knowing that I’d done that to him, that I’d made him lose control and had the evidence of it slicking my torso and dick, was strangely hot.

I kept moving, thrusting against his softening shaft and using his cum like lube. My orgasm was right there, hovering so close I could practically taste it, but I held off, soaking in his pleasure as he quaked with aftershocks.

After a long moment, Zane went limp against the side of the house, his eyes glassy and chest heaving as his breaths came out in broken, staccato bursts.

That was my undoing. I came with a muffled grunt, biting my lip as my orgasm exploded out of me.

I fell against him. Strong hands were on my waist, not just holding me up, but holding me close, as I rode out the waves of my pleasure.

When the last of my haze ebbed, reality came crashing down on me.

Slowly, I stepped back, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath.

He looked…as wrecked as I felt. His hair was a mess, his lips were red and puffy from my kisses, and his skin was dotted with ruddy spots. His soft dick hung between his legs, wet with our cum.

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