Page 8 of Petrichor

“What? Too gay for you? Pleasure shouldn’t have a label.” He tsks.

I am fucking straight,but my dick is still hard as a pole.I only have a few moral fucks to give, but… “I don’t fuck teenage hookers.”

His forehead furrows above his big eyes. “I don’t know if I should feel complimented or insulted. I’m not a teenager, I’m way past my twenties. And a hooker? I didn’t have that in mind when I dressed up tonight.” He opens his arms to look down at his clothes, lifting the sweater over his abdomen.

My eyes fall on the silver chain around his incredibly narrow waist. It’s thin and has some glittering stones dangling over his flat belly. He catches me staring. His lips turn into a smirk.

“Whatcha looking at?” I bark.

“Your cock.”

My pants are open, dick tenting my boxer briefs with the head peeking out the waistband.

“You sure you don’t need a hand with that? Or a throat?” he blatantly offers again.

“No,” I growl.

I’m starting to button up my pants when he adds, “I can deep throat. I like to be fucked in the face.”

My dick lurches at his lewd words.Cazzo.

“How drunk are you? ’Coz you can use it as an excuse for this…experiment.”

I growl menacingly at his cockiness. All this nonsense is making me sober rather quickly.

He hums in a condescending way. “You need to wash it, though, before I blow you.”

That catches me off guard. “Wash it?” I hear myself ask.

“Your cock. That woman could have mono or worse. I won’t put my lips there; it’d be like kissing her.” He makes a disgusted face. Sucking a stranger’s cock is fine, but kissing a woman is repellent?

“The fuck with this,” I utter. I should just punch him in the face for talking so bluntly to me.

“Alright, leave then.” He sighs.

Is he really ordering me to get out? I stare at him, narrowing my eyes.

He points at the bulge in his shorts. “I’m going to jerk off, are you sure you want to be here for that?” Is he mocking me now? Contrary to that chick, he really must not know who I am. Otherwise he’d be really careful with his words.

“You need to do it now?” I deadpan.

“Your very big and very hard cock turned me on. You shouldn’t flaunt it around without expecting any consequence.”

That same dick is hurting now. I fucking need to come and release all the pent-up desire. His mouth looks so fucking juicy, and is that a piercing on his tongue? I get a peek at the little red ball every time he parts his lips wider.

I follow the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. He said he can deep throat, and right now, I want to come down a tight hole. I grab my dick and give it a pump through the fabric with a groan.

Is it really that simple?

I take a step toward him, but he raises his palm up to stop me. “You need to wash it first. I saw some red lipstick on it. That cheap shade doesn’t favor you or me.”

Does he really think he can tell me what to do? “You wash it,” I growl.

He just stares for a moment then he gestures at me to go near the sinks as he does the same.

This close, I can see the various shades of blond painting his hair and the diaphanous tint of his skin. I’ve never thought of a man as pretty. But he surely is.

His deft fingers take care of the buttons and release my cock once again. His hands are calloused, bigger than a woman’s, the fingers long but incredibly skilled as he proceeds to wash my dick.

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