Page 84 of Rookie Recovery

The control was mine now.

Mine.

I glanced up again. Jamie’s hair was sex-mussed, his eyes half closed, his mouth parted, his chest rising and falling so rapidly you’d think he was the one that ran from the monster.

Perfect. And mine.

I licked across his head and buried his cock in my mouth.

Jamie cried out. His back hit the bark like he’d been shot. “Jesus. Fuck. Bowie. Fuck. Bowie.”

The more nonsensical he became, the bigger my internal smile grew, and the harder I went. Alternating between sucking and flicking my tongue. Suck, flick, suck, flick. Jamie fingered my hair, tried holding my face where it was, so that he could fuck it.

“Nnn-nnnn,” I said, and placed my left palm on his stomach, pushing back as firmly as I could. Trapping him against the tree and letting him know I was in charge.

Not him for once.

This was my victory to claim.

My own cock was practically screaming at me. It was so painfully hard, a gust of wind in the right direction would likely have me spilling. Still holding firm on Jamie’s stomach, I frantically jiggled the waistband of my sweatpants. I wrapped my fingers around my cock and whined with relief onto Jamie’s length as I began pumping my fist.

He peeled his eyes open, meeting my gaze for a second, before letting them travel lower.

“Jesus, that’ll do it,” he said, leaving me wondering what he’d been thinking about at that exact moment. “Bowie, baby, slow down. I’m so close.”

But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down. Because I was about four seconds away from coming so hard it would cause me temporary paralysis. My impending orgasm was building fast. I could feel it in my spine, my legs, my toes even, drawing everything to that one delicious spot.

“Bowie! Bowie!” Jamie chanted frantically. Fingers closed in my hair. Cock swelling in my mouth.

I took him in deeper until he hit the back of my throat. He continued to grow. Thrusting against my face. I didn’t need to breathe. Didn’t care about breathing.

“Fuck! Bowie! Fuck!”

I made the mistake of glancing up. Locked onto his agonised brown eyes. Brows knotted. Mouth hung open, etched with the ghost of his last “Fuck!”

My orgasm shot through me. Curling my back and spraying the leaf-strewn ground at Jamie’s feet. I whined my ecstasy onto his cock. Jamie continued to swell, filling every millimetre of my mouth. Tiny fissures travelled along his shaft, and Jamie’s hot release fired out. Over and over. His cry bounced off the trees.

I drank him down, softly sucking him through every moment of his orgasm.

Once our breaths had steadied, and we had both floated down to the soft dirt beneath our feet, I stood up, tucked myself back in, and kissed him square on the lips. Pushed my tongue into his mouth so that he could taste himself on me.

“Jesus, fuck, Bowie,” he said once we eased apart.

“Glad to see you’ve resumed normal verbosity levels,” I teased.

“You weren’t lying, were you?” He swept his thumb over my jaw and pulled me by my hip into the curve of his body.

“About?”

“That’s a first I’ll never forget.”

It was too much. Probably a dream. I never wanted to wake up. I probably shouldn’t say something stupid and spoil everything. Definitely shouldn’t.

But, I was me.

“You’ve got a massive cock, by the way.”

Jamie rolled his eyes and pushed away from me to fetch our dusty shirts. “You had to ruin the moment.”

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