Page 21 of Obsessed with the Player

The weight of his hand on my hardness was something I never knew I needed until right now. He was rough, used no sweet talk, no endearing words, only grabbed me, squeezed, dragged another groan out of me.

“I’m going to show you what a blowjob to die for is like, Dan James, so pay attention,” Andy said, before dropping to his knees and shoving my boxers down.

My stomach squirmed, my dick now in full display, hard, dark red and ready for relief, a bead of pre-cum already on the tip.

Nothing had ever turned me on more than making out with Andy Jacobs.

Though maybe it hadn’t been only that at all.

If I truly admitted it, we had been doing foreplay the entire night.

No, the entireweek.

Me taking a lime out of his mouth had only been the beginning.

The way he looked up at me right now, eyes savage with desire, looking not even a little bit submissive, but rather, in full control of everything going on in this small space, would be engraved in my mind for the rest of my life.

I felt a hint of insecurity, being exposed while he was there, powerful and experienced, but it didn’t last long, it couldn’t, because with a wicked smile, he started mouthing over my length and all the thoughts left my mind. He didn’t go where I wanted him to, using his other hand to hold it towards his mouth and using his thumb to toy with the pre-cum at my tip.

Fuck.

He was going to be the death of me.

Andy kept doing that while my breath was ragged, my pulse going overdrive, the faint sound of the music on the other side of the wall only heightening the thrill of it all.

“Are you going to do something, Andy, or are you just going to torture me all night?” I asked, voice rough, almost trembling.

He was making me come undone and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“You know what? I think I might,” he said, his own voice sounding very rough as well, full of need and hunger.

And knowing that he was as turned on by this as I was only made me even harder, made the knot in my stomach even tighter with want.

But, thanks to some merciful miracle, the torture stopped and a new one started.

Because he took one long tug of my cock, then put the head of it in his mouth, giving it a suck.

I had to fight the urge to instantly come at the sight.

He sucked on the tip, using his tongue to boot, then finally,finallyhe started dragging it further into the dark, hot, wet cavern that dreams were made of, then started sucking again.

Some distant part of me had always understood the appeal of Andy being a player, at least in my eyes, a no-strings-attached man who could show you a good time, who was experienced and grinned at you wickedly, but right now, I didn't understand why anyone gave in. Because, knowing that it would only happen once, then never again, how could anyone risk getting hookedon the sensation, this power that he held over me? How could anyone survive doing this and then going without?

I would have to find out, because now there was no way we were stopping.

Andy went from sucking, to licking, to using his tongue to drag it under my length, and I could only watch, lips parted, as I willed my knees not to buckle.

This was the hottest experience of my life, and it was just starting.

He took my cock out of his mouth again, sucking only at my tip, and I helplessly let out what I hoped was an annoyed groan and not a painful, desperate, needy one.

“Andy, I swear to God–”

“What? What do you swear?” he asked, his breath tickling the most sensitive part of me.

I wanted to kill him.

But I also wanted him to keep sucking and please, please give me the best orgasm of my life.

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