Page 67 of Wrap Around
Fingers digging into each ass cheek, he both spreads me wider and pushes me forward. My face turns towards the side to glare at him, but ends up smooshed against the glass while Gideon goes to town, licking and flicking his tongue over my hole. My asshole. His tongue is licking my butt and seems to be trying to make its way inside.Uhg–
Oh, God. Why? Why is he doingthat? It's gross. It's weird.
At first, at least.
It's really weird and wet and mortifying, and then it's kind of… good. Once I relax enough, and stop obsessing over how wrong this is, it's…
Okay, it's really good. Nerves I wasn't aware of flare to life. Tingling reverberates from my hole to my balls, subtle at first, but the feeling grows into an intense flood of heat. I'm fairly certain my cock has never been this hard, but I can't do anything to soothe the ache, because I'm resting on my forearms with myface pressed against the mirror, fogging it with every heaving breath.
Chills erupt over the entirety of my body with the pressure and warmth of his tongue pushing inside. The sound I make can only be described as an inhuman warble.
Three minutes ago, I couldn't have been more mortified and wanted to escape. Now all I want is to come. I'm shaking all over, rocking back on his face, begging for more, begging him to push inside me deeper. My cock is spitting pre-cum like mini versions of the main event. There's a puddle growing beneath me. It's almost enough to slide through, if only I could angle myself just right I could get enough friction against the polished wood of the desk. Just the slightest bit of pressure on my shaft would be enough.
It's in this moment I realize just how serious he is when he said that he can fuck me good. Because I'm fairly certain he could slam himself all the way inside me right now and I'd bust, pain or no pain. I just need the slightest bit ofsomethingto push me over that edge.
"Gideon…" I whine, my voice low and feral. My words are clipped and breathy, broken by shaky gasps. "I need… I need…"
I feel unhinged with need, like I might cry or go insane. I'm moments from sobbing, and he hums into my ass, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming sensations. No, not humming. Moaning. And now that I'm paying attention, I hear and feel the rhythmic tell-tale wet strokes of his hand on his cock. He's jerking himself hard and fast, pushing his face harder between my cheeks to thrust his tongue inside me.
At the realization that he's no longer holding me down with both hands, I find the mental and physical strength to push myself up. My outstretched leg trembles as I push myself on my tiptoes, hoping this desk can support more of my weight. One handsteadies me against the mirror. Despite desperately needing the release, my first instinct is to reach behind me instead of reaching for my own cock. Replacing the hand he's using to stroke himself, I hold myself open for him and curve my spine, so my ass jerks against his tongue. I'm all but grinding on his face, and if the way his hand on my other cheek tightens and the muffled noises he's making are any indication, he likes it. No, he loves it. The sounds we're both making are animalistic—wild, primal grunts and moans that add a filthy harmony over the background of rhythmic wet squelches and the creak of the desk rocking beneath me.
Gideon comes with a cry that pulls his tongue away from me momentarily. I moan like I'm the one coming, throwing my head back and gasping when his wet hand snakes between my legs to grip my cock. His tongue thrusts inside me again with renewed effort, and it's only a moment later that my cum is splashing against the glass in forceful jets. My body shakes violently with the intensity of the pleasure racking through me, and there is no possible way that the rooms on either side of us can't hear me wail. It can't be helped. Honestly, in the moment, I don't care if they do know that I just got tongue fucked into oblivion, because I've never experienced anything like what just happened to me.
Every bit of tension, adrenaline, and energy left in my body is wrung from me with the last drop of my orgasm, leaving me boneless. I'm a big guy, and Gideon isn't much bigger than me, but he still manages to half carry, half drag me to the bed. He gets me settled, dropping a kiss to my temple. The sink runs, and when I hear the sounds of the mirror being wiped, my face flames.
"What. Was. That?" I ask, breathless and half dead to the world, when I've gathered enough of my faculties to speak.
Gideon chuckles, minty breath fanning across my cheek as he climbs into bed and nestles himself behind me. He must have brushed his teeth. I have so many questions, but that’s all I’m able to articulate at the moment.
The bedside lamp clicks off, dousing the room in darkness. He’s quiet for long enough that I think he might have thought my question was rhetorical.
"When I had you bent over that first time, I couldn't stop looking at you down there. I'd never really wanted to get up close and personal like that, but my mouth watered at the thought. I wanted to taste you. So when we walked in here and the memory was taunting me, I thought maybe we needed a new one.”
I hum happily. “Good memory.”
“I didn’t think you liked it at first,” he says, nuzzling his forehead between my shoulder blades.
“I didn’t. It was weird. Weirder than weird, it was…”
“Wrong?” he supplies. “Improper? Immoral? Filthy?” I huff a laugh, but then his mouth is against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Sinful?”
The chill that skitters down my spine is a similar, albeit less intense, version of the one that rushed through my entire body when his tongue pushed inside me. I can feel my hole spasm and everything.
“But you liked it?” I’m hoping the uncertainty in my voice can be blamed on the exhaustion trying to pull me under.
“I fucking loved it,” he says, pulling me into him tighter. His spent cock twitches against my bare ass. “Feeling you pulse around my tongue was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. And the sounds you made?” He grunts and squeezes me.
I groan weakly. “Who’s a menace now?”
The next day, we pull off a win against Iowa in overtime. We’re not at our best, that’s for sure. Everyone seems sluggish and tired. I’m almost afraid to look any of my teammates in the eye in case anyone heard about the noises coming out of our room last night. But if anyone heard, they haven’t said anything.
Within an hour of leaving the stadium, we’re in the air again, headed to Winnipeg. By the time we’re at the hotel, it’s all we can do to collapse into bed. Despite my insistence that we both down copious amounts of vitamin C to fortify us against whatever funk is starting to move through the team, it seems to be catching up to Gideon. He struggles to keep up and is sweating profusely despite not moving very fast. A quick look at my teammates around me shows he isn’t the only one. We’re down almost a full line of players due to a handful waking up with fevers.
The game against Manitoba has got to be the longest game I’ve ever played. It’s like the refs know we’re struggling and want to draw out our misery. Every time the whistle blows to stop time, I want to riot. The third period alone takes nearly forty minutes in real time. When the horn sounds, I’m not even upset about the loss, I’m just glad to get off the ice.
Instead of flying home immediately after the game, Coach has us stay another night in Winnipeg. Monday morning, Gideon wakes up with a nasty headache. By the time we land back home, he’s sweating and shivering. He’s only one of five players who spiked a fever on the flight, and after everyone is lined up for rapid flu and COVID tests, he’s one of nine players to test positive for COVID.
CHAPTER 26
