Page 60 of The Legend Next Door
Ben’s hands move to his sides and he digs his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and underwear. His forearms flex as he pushes them down.
A thick white band of elastic is pulled away from his body, just a little, just enough to allow it to be dragged downward in gradual increments that might as well be hours. His cock is revealed so slowly it breaks time. Time cracks down the middle and splits into two. There are only two realities now, a before and a now. Right now, the present. This minute. This second.
I make an awful, abhorrent sound. It comes from so low down it gets twisted in my gut on the way out and turns whiny by the time it leaves me. It’s terrible. I’d hate it if Ben told me to hate it. I’d stop making it, too, if he told me to be quiet. He doesn’t though. He smiles at the sound, sweetly, as though he likes it.
His dick is big and beautiful. Of course it’s big. And of course it’s beautiful. It belongs to Ben, and God only knows, he’s the biggest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It juts up toward his navel. A thick, sinewy rod that curves up and bobs as he pushes his pants down farther.
My eyes begin to water from how long it’s been since they’ve been closed. That, and from the strain of trying to look at his dick and face at the same time.
He runs a finger along my jaw, from my ear to just under my chin, and lifts. I look into his eyes. They’re soft and kind, like always. Blue like the moon and twice as beautiful. His hands are on me. Both of them. Thick fingers dance over my cheeks, leaving warm tracks in their wake. He removes my cap and drops it to the floor without looking where it lands. His hands are in my hair. Two hands and ten fingers. He works his way over my scalp and cradles my skull as if it’s fragile. As though it matters. As though it’s precious to him.
My head lolls back from the absolute certainty that he can handle the weight. The weight of me. My gaze travels up Ben’s body from the motion of my head falling back.
Our eyes meet, and he says, “Blink, baby.”
So I do. I blink several times in an attempt to clear my vision and wake myself if this is a dream.
A big, masculine hand wraps around the base of a big, beautiful cock and wrestles it toward my mouth. A glistening pearl appears at the tip and spills down toward me.
Saliva pools under my tongue.
My heart slams in my chest.
I’m hornier than I’ve ever been. There’s a blistering heat under my skin. Everywhere. My hands are hot. So is my face. My dick is so hard it hurts.
“I’m going to put this in your mouth,” says Ben. His voice is different. It’s husky. Something in his larynx vibrates slower than it usually does, making him hoarse. I groan my assent and nod so hard my vision goes blurry again. “All of it. I’m going give you all of it, and I’m going to do it harder than I usually do because you’ve made me harder than I usually get. Harder than I’ve been in a long, long time.”
I shiver from the force of my arousal. Not a little. A lot. A huge, uncontrollable tremor takes me by both shoulders and shakes me from side to side. I don’t try to stop it.
“Give me your hand, Jelly,” he says, catching it when it swims toward him and placing it firmly on a thick naked thigh. Coarse, dark hair scours my palm. My soul begins to detach from my body. “You’re going to tap me if it’s too much. You’re going to tap if you want me to slow down, pull out, or stop. Do you understand?” I nod frantically and say something that means yes in a primitive language no longer spoken by humans. “Lick your lips when you’re ready.”
His voice is gentle and soft, so soothing I want to rub myself all over it. I want to lick it. Consume it. Take it inside me and never let go of it.
Wait. No.
I want to do that to his dick.
I run my tongue along my top lip and then the bottom. I do it quickly, eagerly, hardly able to wait to taste him. Hardly able to believe any of this is happening.
“Do the bottom one again,” he murmurs. “Do it slowly. Do it the way you do when you’re embarrassed because you’ve said something you shouldn’t have.” Ordinarily, I’d laugh at that. Or I’d smile, at least. Now, I simply scrape my teeth over my bottom lip and suck it into my mouth, wetting it as much as I can before releasing it slickly. Ben’s eyes heat and he smiles. A soft, tolerant smile that makes his eyelids drop half-mast. “Good boy,” he says quietly.
The words slice through me and a new type of arousal is born. It’s better and worse than anything I’ve felt before. Stronger and harder. Scarier. Sweeter too.
Ben steps forward and uses his fist to angle his beautiful cock so it rests on my tongue. I moan on contact. Loudly. Lasciviously. Ben sweeps his cockhead from side to side, outlining the curve of my top lip before tapping his swollen tip firmly against the center of my bottom lip.
A rough, animalistic growl shakes the whole room.
It isn’t mine.
I moan again, quivering and desperate, as he slots himself into my mouth. I more than moan. I purge myself of every thought I’ve ever had of another man. It’s a long, eager sound that warbles around his crown and mixes with a salty burst of Ben. His blunt head pushes in, pinning my tongue down, pausing to give me a moment to acclimatize myself to the thickness of him. I need it. My mouth is full, my jaw open wide to accommodate him.
And all he’s given me so far is the head.
He rocks his hips, hand still strangling the base of his cock as he dips it into my mouth and pulls it out until my lips prickle and my mind screams with need. I suck greedily, slurping at him, licking every drop of precum I can get my tongue on.
“Slowly,” he warns. “A mouth this pretty? I’m not going to last.”
But he does, and despite what he said, he’s gentle with me. He fucks my mouth first, filling it and finding his way around it with such care and restraint that my eyes water with longing. His hands are in my hair, holding me steady and stopping me from taking him deeper than he wants me to.
