Page 54 of A Much Younger Man
Chapter Thirteen
Go slow.I squeezed the taut globes of Beck’s tight ass with both hands, holding him to me so with every move our cocks strained against each other. Heat built in my groin, rippling outward, down to tighten my balls, and up my cock until it was hard enough to hurt.
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders as I cupped his face in my hand. We kissed as if kisses were both the journey and destination, the means and the end, a rondeau of passion and purpose where he and I existed without numbers, without neighbors, without judgment or the world we left behind when we slipped into my bed together.
His kisses became my breath—the air I needed to survive. His slippery, cool skin against mine an ocean of sensation to swim in.
One minute, I pulled him over me to squirm and laugh and smile down like a sullied angel, and the next, he rolled us, serious purpose written over his lovely, luminous features as he wrapped his legs around my hips.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Fuck me.” He lifted his hips invitingly and nipped at my fingers. Sucking one into his mouth, he drew off with apop.“I want you inside me. I want to come on your cock.”
Jesus.That was unambiguous.Young people today, huh?
I kissed him one last time and left to open my nightstand drawer where I felt around for lube and condoms. Throwing those on the mattress next to his hip, I knelt between his legs.
“You’re sure?”
“Guh. Yes, I’m sure. Fuck me.”Impatience, thy name is Beck.
I slowed down even more. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”
“Please, please, fuck me.”
“What was that? That last bit?”
He curled up and blew a raspberry in my armpit.
“Aargh. Stop. You win, you win.” I ran both hands over his belly, thumbed the indents below his hip bones, and tangled my hair in his curly bush. No manscaping there. He was beautiful. Natural. One of Caravaggio’s naughty youths come to life for me to pleasure.
I leaned over and licked my way from his collar bones to his navel. I dipped my tongue inside while he thrashed feverishly. I traced the lines where his legs met his torso and blew hot breath on his balls.
“Touch me. Please. Touch my goddamn cock, or I swear I’ll—”
“You’ll what?”
“Die.” He panted. “I will die of sexual frustration in your bed. Is that how you want this to go down?”
“Since you mentioned it…” I gave his shaft teasing flicks of my tongue, keeping the pressure up all wrong so it was never enough, never the right place, never the thing he wanted so badly. All he could do then was writhe and moan and curse me out. Only when I was ready did I pull the whole of his cock into my mouth, right to the back of my throat where I worked my muscles around him.
“Christ,” he shouted.
I pulled off. “It’s Lindy.”
“Oh God, do that again.”
“Mm. Can’t hear you. Must be—”
“Please. Please, Lindy.Please.”
I swallowed around him again and again, gorging myself on his sweet cock until my throat was sore and he begged me to stop.
“Please, Lindy. Please. I need you. Need your cock.”
I took time preparing him. He was tight and nervy. He jumped at every sensation, rolling his head from side to side.
“I’m opening you to take my cock, sweetheart. I’m going to tease you apart, first with my fingers, then with my dick.”
