Page 29 of Rocking the Receiver
I didn’t milk the clock and came in two seconds flat.
WTF?
CHAPTER 14
THE PROMISE
Rupert
“Humph…”Such an unsophisticated and loud yawn!
Did I do that?
Face buried on the fluffy hotel pillow and arms beneath it, I lie on my stomach, fidget, and grumble my satisfaction.
“Mmm, that feels good.” I wet my swollen lips. One touch from his fingertips is enough to set my body ablaze. My lover intensifies the feather light patterns he’s drawing on my back in a feeble attempt to wake me.
“Need more sleep… Need to recover…” I whimper at his TLC as my sleepy body pebbles in bliss. We haven’t left the room since Elliot met me at the airport. Ordering room service, we keep testing our chemistry. Skin slapping became his new favorite fun. Christening every inch of this place was his idea, though. This is so atypical of me. I rarely do repeats, preferring faceless hookups and not spending the night… until Elliot. But it’s not like I’m not on board with his plans. He’s delivered what I asked for: make me feel alive again. His honor demanded that hemake amends for—I quote—“his poor initial performance.” My reassurance wasn’t met with success, so practice made perfect.
One of my thighs artfully rests over the comforter. The room reeks of sweat, food, and sex. Today is the last of our four-day retreat, or should I call it our sex-marathon. He’s been rubbing off on me, and we’ve been going at it like horny teenagers. He said that we should make up for lost time. I agreed to disagree. We happened at the right time.
“Need you…” Elliot’s hand makes descends to my lower back, then kneads my butt cheek. His index finger brushes my tailbone before heading to the cleft of my ass.
I swat his adventurous hand. “Stop,” I warn.
“Ouch! You’re mean,” the brat whines.
“And you’re insatiable!” I swivel my head to the left and meet his raunchy gaze.
My uncertainty about what he sees in me lingers. Not that it matters right now. All I know is that these few days have pleased me to no end. Elliot makes me ridiculously happy… alive, and that’s not only lust talking. He’s funny. He’s attentive. He’s passionate, in every sense of the word.
If I’m just a means to an end, that’s fine by me. Punching his V-card weighed heavily on him, as if he wasn’t “truly gay” until it was done. I could very well be the only gay person he knows, and directing his interest towards me was because I’m a safe bet, obviously incapable of hurting him.
“Look, Elliot, I’m old and tired,” I supply, in case it’s not obvious. “What time is it anyway?” The drawn curtains don’t give much away, except for a sliver of natural light.
“Morning sex is the best sex,” the expert retorts instead of answering me. In a swift move, he snatches the comforter to expose more of my naked body.
His tongue hungrily travels across my shoulder blade, and I quiver. With that, he leans over, wickedly licking the back of my neck up to my ear.
“And shut up! Thirty isn’t old,” he counters in a breathless whisper. “Don’t you get it? You’re like a fine wine anyway: You improve with age.” Guess I missed that point; what I do get, though, is the delicious tingle of his impressive wood. Caressing my rear end. Taunting my weaknesses. Crumbling my defenses.
I will myself to focus on the conversation rather than the sensations he elicits in me, between his ministrations and his impressive manhood tempting me while resting between my butt cheeks—for now.
“Enlighten me, then. How have I improved according to your twisted logic? By the way, I turned thirty-one two months ago, so…”
His powerful gulp proves he’s registering this information. So far, we haven’t discussed milestones, apart from his unique birthday that earns him an annual video chat on March 1st. I wait for his answer.
“What? You finally succumbed to my boyish charms. If that doesn’t show improvement, I don’t know what does.” His lips nibble at mine. His hand glides along my hipbone, clumsily reaching for my balls. He fondles them before taking hold of my semi. He squeezes. I hiss. We moan.
“You’re not playing fair. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but…” I trail off, slowly getting my bearings from this sweet wakeup call.
His teeth gently bite my earlobe. “Never said I was.” His fat cock is lodged between my cheeks now.
“Last night you said you loved late night sex,” I remind him in a teasing tone.
The fucker subtly moves behind me, and my ass clenches. So much for being focused on the conversation. He’s a fast learner and already knows exactly what he’s doing. “I do.” His hot breath tickles my ear. “With you, I love every moment of sex.”
“Withme, huh? Me!” I insist. “Didn’t you confess that, aside from being on the receiving end of a few blow-jobs, you made a point of saving your firsts for me?”
