Page 40 of One Chance to Stay
I opened my mouth, wrapping my lips around his cock. Careful of teeth, I moved down until I reached the spot where my gag reflex kicked in. I held still, surprised that I had a man’s junk in my mouth—and that I wanted more.
I cupped his balls with my free hand as I withdrew, keeping my lips around the head. As I bobbed up and down, Seamus moaned. After a minute, his hips bucked, trying to get further into my mouth. I took the plunge, swallowing to the base. With my lips pressed against his groin, his hands rested on the back of my head as he let out a low roar.
“I’m going to?—”
I retreated as his cock thickened, but not letting go. His back arched as the first rope of cum hit the back of my throat. I couldn’t stop from gagging. When the third shot fired, I swallowed before pulling off his cock. How could precum taste so good and cum be that salty?
I continued jerking his cock, the last of the cum oozing. I didn’t want to be a bad guest, so I licked the tip until his hand pushed my forehead back. His body continued twitching, and I wanted to ask if he enjoyed himself. When he leaned back, drawing a staggered breath, I had my answer.
“I’d do that again,” I said, smacking my lips. Even as the orgasm finished with his body, he rolled his eyes. “What? Can’ta guy enjoy his first taste of cum? I mean, it’s no lasagna, but it makes for a good appetizer.”
“You don’t like silence, do you?”
I lay with my head on his thigh, watching the intimacy escape and the grumpy Seamus come rushing in. No, I wasn’t going to let it happen. I wanted a little longer with this vulnerable version.
I crawled along his body, straddling his waist for the second time tonight. If he thought I didn’t notice his cock jump against the back of my jeans, he’d be sorely mistaken. Not sure I was ready to takethatleap. Besides, how does one decide if they’re a top or bottom? Did I get assigned when I received my membership card? The way the guys at the bar cried about there being no tops, I’d think we all defaulted to being on all fours.
“How many men?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You heard my number. I’m curious. Seamus Finnigan, how many men have you had the pleasure of getting naked?” I leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss. The sensation of his beard on my face had grown on me. “A strapping man like yourself, I bet?—”
“One.”
“One? A day? I could see?—”
“One man.”
He cleared his throat, and we were back to him averting his eyes. Difficult to accomplish when I loomed inches from his face. I slid to his side, but kept my hand running circles across his belly. Should I press the subject? I didn’t want Seamus to retreat, but I figured after sexual encounter number two, we had developed some semblance of a rapport.
“You’re dying to ask.”
“Oh, thank God. Yes. Yes, I am.” I gave him a squeeze. “Is he the one that got away? Your first crush? Is he sexier than me?”Another eye roll. “Okay, we can skip the last one. It’s hard to compete with all of this.”
I flexed. When my hand returned to his stomach, he placed his on top. Even though I had his cock in my mouth minutes ago, the grazing of his thumb over my knuckles felt more intimate. Without a primal urge driving us to get naked, the coarseness of his touch made me smile.
“Tom Strickland.”
“That’s all you’re going to?—”
“Are you always this impatient?”
I settled in, resting my head on his shoulder. He had a point. If I had to choose between silence or filling the space, I’d always ramble. At the bar, I’d play the long game, but elsewhere in life, let’s just say I needed to work on my patience.
“I knew him through some friends. I’d see him at poker. He had manners and minded his please and thank yous. When he wasn’t in the room, I didn’t give him a second thought.” Seamus paused, and his thumb stopped moving. “It started innocent enough. A lingering hug when he left. A wayward compliment.”
Seamus stopped talking long enough, and I glanced up. He shook his head, sitting up. I lay on my side as he grumbled. “It’s nobody’s business.” His tone changed, almost angry.
“You’ve never told anyone?” The words slipped out.
He shook his head.
I reached up, hand on his cheek, as I guided him onto his back. He rolled onto his side, our faces close enough that we shared breaths. If Seamus needed silence, I’d hold back my words. If he needed support, I’d listen. The thought of somebody never sharing such an important detail of this life left my chest tight.
“I kissed him.” He whispered as he spoke. “Everybody had left. I…” I took his hand, gripping it tightly. “Men didn’t—he kissed me back.”
“Speaking from experience, that’s a scary moment.”
