Page 43 of Confession
I suck in a breath. A thread of uncertainty weaves through me.
“You haven’t done that before?” he asks. If he’s surprised, he hides it.
“No,” I admit, implicitly admitting so much more.
“Neither have I,” he says. “Can I try it?”
It’s the way he asks, the fact that it’s a vulnerable new thing for him too that makes me able to nod. And turn over. And let him get between my legs as I lift to my knees.
I bury my face in the sheets as he parts my cheeks. I stifle a sound of pleasure and dismay as his tongue strokes across my hole. I have never, ever, ever submitted like this.
But I relax as he continues, so obvious in his enjoyment. I can hear his hums of pleasure. I can feel them against my hole as he licks and suckles. His hands knead the muscle of my ass and thighs. As his tongue presses shallowly into me, my leaking dick twitches up against my abdomen. I start to moan. I start to whine. I’ve never heard myself make sounds like this.
I hear the cap of the lube, then slick fingers replace his tongue, massaging my hole before pushing inside. He stretches me leisurely, and I accept it. Like him, I’m in a strange mood.
He’s got three fingers in me, scissoring, when his other hand reaches between my legs and finds my dripping cock.
“Oh, baby,” he murmurs when he feels what he’s doing to me. My throat tightens at the word.
His hands vanish, leaving me empty and gasping, so his mouth presses soothingly against my ass cheek as I listen to the distinctive, delicious sound of him slicking his cock so he can fuck me.
But he doesn’t do what I expect. He crawls up to me, pulls me up. I’m dizzy. I can’t think.
“Ride me,” he says as he lies on his back, scooting into my place. He grabs my thigh, tugging, asking me to staddle him. I do it. Right now, I would do anything for him.
He holds his cock for me. I lift myself over it. I inhale sharply as his broad tip opens me. I bite my lip as I sink down slowly and take him inside me.
He’s watching me avidly, his hands on my thighs. When he’s all the way inside me, I pitch forward, planting my hands on hischest, shuddering at the sensation of him inside me. Then I start to fuck myself on him.
I watch him like he watches me. I watch his body. I watch his pleasure. I love when his head presses back, baring his throat, showing me how good this feels to him. I rock on his dick, letting myself really feel him moving inside me.
He reaches for the lube and squirts some into his hand, then he starts stroking my aching cock.
I moan and fuck myself harder on him. He arches under me and starts thrusting from beneath. His cock plunges sloppily in my ass, and his hand strokes my dick, tugs my balls, gives me more pleasure than I can handle.
Vitali reads my cries correctly. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Come. Come on my cock.”
I rock harder on him as he strokes me faster. My body tightens, but here at the end I have trouble letting go in this position. I want to, but I don’t think I can.
“Fuck!” Vitali shouts under me, struggling, trying not to come because I haven’t, but the sight of him straining like that has me working myself harder, almost desperately.
Vitali cries out as his hips jack up, and the second his cock pulses and spills inside me, my body seizes and my cock kicks in his hand. I strain and jerk as I come all over him, pulse after pulse until I’m empty and shuddering.
When I pitch forward, he catches me and holds me against him, still partially lodged inside me. He gasps every time my hole clenches on him. He murmurs wordlessly as we both relax.
At some point, I realize I’m on my side, alone in the bed. Then Vitali is there. He doesn’t say anything as he cleans me up, sweeping a warm damp cloth over my torso. I let it happen. I let him clean my dick, too, even between my cheeks. He doesn’t say anything about me burying my face in the pillow because it’s just fucking much to have him take care of me like that. But I let him.
The lights go off. He settles in behind me, pulling the covers up and tugging my body against his.
I’m still in a strange mood. He’s done something to me. My breathing matches his, and when he falls asleep, so do I.
FIFTEEN
Vitali
“You’re in a good mood,” Sasha comments as she hands me a fresh beer from the cooler.
I crack it open and settle back in my poolside lounge chair. “Why shouldn’t I be in a good mood on a beautiful June day?”
