Page 88 of Man On

"Noah, I don't like?—"

"Don't like what, Lane? The idea of getting your dick swallowed while someone massages your prostate until you cum so hard you almost black out? Having the most intense orgasm of your life forcefully wrung out of you?" I give his rapidly hardening cock a very pointed look before leaning over to open the top drawer of his bedside table. Even the damn drawer is organized, a few books neatly stacked, a journal with a pen attached, and his phone charger—neatly wrapped like a fucking psychopath—is all that's in here.

"Where do you keep your lube?"

"My what now?"

"Lube. You know, like lotion or whatever."

"There's some sunscreen in my gym bag."

"Dude. What do you use to jerk off with?"

"What have you ever seen me use to jerk off with!?"

"Good point I guess," I say, and my mouth waters remembering the day I spit on his cock so he could jerk off.

God, that was hot.

And look at us now. He's laid out before me, legs spread, about to take my fingers in his ass until he comes so hard he’ll never question me again.

He shudders when I spit on my fingers, and sits up swiftly, holding my hand still before it can go anywhere.

"Wait. Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Tell me this, Lane. Do you want me to stop because you really want me to stop, or are you afraid that you'll like it?"

He swallows and looks down at his cock that's obviously very curious about what's about to happen. Nodding sagely, because I fucking know him, I place a hand on his chest and push him back down. I hover over him, caressing up the outside of his thigh and taking my first handful of his perfect ass.

My hand moves back down his leg and then shifts to run my fingers up the inside of his thigh. He tenses.

“Noah. Stop.” His voice is higher than usual, and shaky.

I pause, because even though he didn’t say the safe word, there’s something in his tone. It’s not the kind of nervousness that gets me excited, it’s real, palpable fear.

“I—I’m not ready.”

“Because you’re afraid you’ll like it?”

He nods, his eyes full of more anguish than I’ve ever seen before. It’s a moment of decision that I take more seriously than I’m sure it seems on the outside. As much fun as I’m having, I don’t want to push him too far. But then again, maybe that’s what he needs. And he’s not using the safe word, so maybe that’s what he wants as well.

He’s afraid that he’ll like it, and if he does, he’ll have to admit something to himself that he’s been trying to hide from. And I think he might be right about that. Because I want to make him come so hard, more colors explode behind his eyes than he’s ever seen before. I want to make him feel so good, he forgets to feel bad about it.

“Say it then,” I say, continuing the path my fingers are taking. “If you really want me to stop, say it.”

Lane swallows and clenches his eyes shut. Slowly, tentatively, I run my fingers down his hardening cock, over his balls, to his taint. He whimpers as I rub small circles there before my fingers push lower. Lane is trembling from head to toe.

My body pulses with excitement, every fiber of my being completely enthralled with all the things I want to do with him. To him. I forget to breathe as my fingertips trace up and down his crack, over his hole, until I have to suck in a breath at the sight of pre-cum dripping from his tip. Lowering myself between his thighs, I force him to spread his legs wider to fit my shoulders between them. My head dips, and my tongue lazily drags up the salty path of his arousal.

I’m fucking drooling. So much so that as I’m licking him, it drips down his balls, forming a tiny rivulet of spit that flows to his ass. I watch it trickle, enjoying the sight of his little pink asshole winking at me as my spit pools over it. It’s practically begging me to stuff it full of my fingers, my cock, my… tongue. Suddenly desperate to have my mouth on him, I dip my head lower, reveling in the way he gasps when I spread his cheeks open and lick him in one broad stroke of my tongue. My eyes roll back. So. Fucking. Sweet.

“W-what are you doing?” he rasps, sounding somewhere between awed and outraged. His cock jerks and leaks another stream of pre-cum, his body betraying what he doesn’t want to admit. He fucking loves my dirty mouth on his pristine, clean body.

“Kissing you,” I say with my face buried in his ass, before I press open-mouthed kisses over his hole.

Call me crazy, because I certainly never found the idea of licking anyone's asshole appealing before, but I'm obsessed with Lane on a level I didn't realize was possible. I thought I could get him out of my system, but every touch only makes me want more. I’d crawl inside his body and wear him like a suit, kind of obsessed. My cock is harder than it was in the car, before we were hours into this marathon of orgasms, ready to go again. My hips writhe, humping the comforter for friction while I tongue his asshole, pressing against it to slip inside?—

“Time Warp!”

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