Page 9 of Down My Chimney

“Delightful,” Henry said.

“You see now why I was looking forward to you getting here?” I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Mmm, I believe you said you were looking forward to mecoming,” he corrected me.

“Did I, now?”

“You did. And if you were serious about that—”

“Oh, I was deadly serious.”

“Then I have some ideas that might be able to help us out.”

“I hope they involve fifteen hours of strenuous activity with only nine cuts,” I said.

“Exactly nine cuts.” Henry grinned. “Three breaks for water, three for snacks, and three so I can go empty some of the cum out of my ass, but otherwise, it’s just a fifteen-hour sex marathon.”

I smacked my forehead again. “Oh fuck, the test.”

Henry and I had decided we’d get tested for STIs so we could stop using condoms. But it had completely slipped my mind. Like everything else, apparently.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I keep fucking up.”

“You don’t.” He put a hand on my shoulder.

“If I’d just fucking remembered to get tested, we wouldn’t have to use condoms.”

“Well, look on the bright side. Now my asshole isn’t going to be physically overflowing with cum.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I frowned. “I was looking forward to that.”

He laughed. “I kind of was too. But at least your sheets might stay a little cleaner this way?”

“That’s a sucky consolation prize.”

“You know, speaking of sucking, that’s something else I seem to recall you promising me.”

“That, at least, I can follow through on.”

I pulled him close, trying to transmit my hunger through my kiss as my hands tore at the bottom of his shirt. We broke the kiss just long enough to pull it off over his head, then kissed again as he shimmied out of his pajama pants.

I was achingly hard, and the sight of Henry’s cock, leaking precum, only made me want him more. I kissed down his jaw, his neck, and his stomach, desperate to taste him. Two months ago, I’d never so much as kissed a guy, and here I was, missing the way cock tasted.

But not just any cock.Henry’s. I brought my hand to the base as I took his head in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. Henry whimpered, and I slid more of him down my throat. I loved the salt of his skin, the warmth of his thigh as it pressed against my cheek. Loved the masculine scent of him.

I pulled off, licking up the underside of his cock before sucking on the head again. He moaned, loudly, then pressed his forearm into his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet.

I decided to make it hard for him. Sure, I was putting him—us—in jeopardy. But I didn’t care about that right now. All I cared about was him.

I sank down around him again, then set a quick rhythm, bobbing up and down, using as much spit as possible. Henry spread his legs and I took the invitation, getting a finger wet and sliding it back. He gasped as I found his entrance, pushing just the tip inside. His hands went to my head, pushing his cock further into my mouth.

I toyed with him like that, sucking his cock while teasing his hole, until I judged that he was pretty close to the edge. I pulled off, but only to roll him over onto his stomach and spread his legs again, giving me access to his hole. That was what I’d really missed.

I licked a stripe across it, bottom to top, then a second one, top to bottom. Henry moaned into the pillow. I repeated the motion, over and over, then began to change the pattern, the pressure, the part of my tongue I used. When he was nice and wet, I began to press inside, as far as I could get. I loved the way that made him shake.

I didn’t stop until I was sure, again, that Henry was on the verge of coming. Then I pulled back and reached for the lube and condoms I kept under my bed. I slicked up a finger and pressed it to his hole, so soft and inviting.

“Ready?” I whispered.

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