Page 45 of Jacked
I press my face into AJ’s hairy, sweaty cleavage and my cock jumps and throbs in his grasp. This is officially how I want to die—suffocated between the most massive pair of muscle titties I can find.
I moan and drag my tongue along the curve of his pec while I tease my fingers around the sleeve of his foreskin, fascinated by how slick and warm and soft it feels. A horny sound rumbles through his chest and he squeezes my cock eagerly.
I want to tease him by licking every inch of his chest except for his nipples until he fucking begs me for it, but I don’t have the patience for any teasing tonight. I just want to hear him moan for me. I want to make him squirm and buck. I want his cum painting my skin again.
I find his nipple with my tongue again and his cock spasms in my hand, spilling precum into my palm as I drag the flat of my tongue over the hard, sensitive bud. His skin is salty and just a little sweet, distinctly masculine in a way I can’t describe. I blow on his wet nipple just to watch him squirm a little, fascinated by the way I canseeit tighten and swell, darkening with blood flow and practically throbbing right in front of my eyes. A horny whimper tightens my throat, and I wrap my lips around his swollen nipple and start to suck.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, bucking into my hand. His fingers flex and relax around my cock, his strokes stuttering, then finding rhythm again as his breathing goes wild. “That feels so fucking good, dude. Don’t stop.” AJ bucks his hips and shoves his chest towards me to force his nipple deeper into my mouth, dragging the sensitive bud against my teeth.
I hum around the taut little bud, sucking harder until I can feel it getting swollen and puffy against my tongue, and then I sink my teeth into it gently. AJ wails, thrusting wildly into my grip. The head of my cock rubs between his thighs and then catches against his heavy, swinging balls.
My eyes roll back and I jerk my hips forward with a moan. I release his nipple and he curses and whines, tangling his free hand in my hair.
“Please, please, please,” he chants, trying to tug me back to where he wants me, his glistening, throbbing nipple.
I grin and drag my damp lips over his cleavage again on my way to his other pec. I roll his already tender nipple between my thumb and forefinger, gently at first, then a little rougher as I wrap my lips around it and suck it into my mouth.
His cockhead drags against my stomach, drenching me in the gallons of precum he’s spilling as he thrashes and rasps my name over and over, humping into my fist. His tightening balls drag back and forth over my cockhead with every thrust. He’s so fucking gone he’s forgotten all about jerking me, but his hand is still wrapped around my shaft, squeezing it, pumping it in his twitching fingers as he howls with pleasure.
I wonder how long I could edge him with nipple play alone. Could I get him to the point where he would come from just my tongue on his hot, sensitive buds? Is tonight a one-time thing or will he give me the chance to find out?
I sink my teeth into his nipple, pinching the other one roughly and giving it the slightest twist. I’ll have to send anapology note to our garlic loving neighbor for the way AJ shouts at the top of his lungs, his whole body convulsing like I’ve electrocuted him.
His cock gets even stiffer in my hand and then starts to pulse. My balls tighten at the same time and I fuck into his grip, nudging the sweaty underside of his balls with every thrust. His cum explodes across my belly, hotter and thicker and so much fucking better than I remembered. Better because this time I’m not worried that I’m crossing the line. Better because this time it’s on purpose. I earned his cum, it’s fuckingmine.
I grunt and groan around his nipple, stroking him through every trembling wave of his orgasm. My cock slips with my next thrust and drags along his taint and I’m fucking done for. I release his nipple and let out a rasping moan as my balls draw up tight and I empty my load between his legs, on his balls and his taint and the insides of his upper thighs. I gasp and pant and bury my face right back between his pecs as I ride out the endless waves of pleasure.
When we’re both drained, I crawl up the bed to share the pillow and we sag into each other. I’m absolutely drenched in his cum, just like he’s soaked with mine, and there are a million questions running through my head. How is he feeling? Was this a one-time thing or can we do it again? Am I allowed to sleep in his bed?
Words seem way too damn hard right now though, so instead I just grunt. The kind of grunt that clearly has a question mark at the end, even if it’s not actually words. AJ’s eyes are half-closed, but his lips quirk into a drowsy, satisfied smile and he grunts back.
I’m good, bro.
I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure that’s what the grunt means. His big, heavy arm falls over me and he pulls me closeragain. So, I guess that answers the question about whether he wants me to stay.
We can figure the rest out in the morning. Maybe in the shower. Together.
I drift off with images of AJ’s body all wet and soapy filling my mind.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AJ
The hairbetween my legs is crusted, tugging painfully when I shift, still half-asleep and trying to sort out what actually happened last night. There’s not a lot of room for denial though considering it’s Slater’s dried cum on my balls and upper thighs.
Is that what I want? To find a way to deny what happened or reason it away? I was confused. I was worried I was going to lose Slater as my roommate and my friend. I was in a gay bar, for fuck’s sake, of course I got a little curious and adventurous. My gut settles at the string of rationalizations, but my mind recoils. I don’t want to go back to that. As hard as moving forward feels, going back is impossible.
I roll over and reach out with my eyes still closed. My fingers brush against cool, wrinkled sheets. My heart sinks. Maybe Slater came to the opposite conclusion this morning. Maybe he woke up and realized last night didn’t do it for him and he’s straight after all.
A flurry of memories assaults me. The sound of his deep, horny moans, his body moving against mine, the way his face twisted and his body shook with pleasure…
Okay, no, he probably didn’t wake up this morning and decide he’s straight after all. But maybe he did wake up and realize the last place he wanted to be was inmybed. I mean, shit, it makes sense. If you just figured out you like chocolate, you’re not going to want just one slice of cake. My stomach twists all over again and my pleasant, horny thoughts turn into a fresh tornado of confusion.
This is all too damn much to think about before coffee and maybe a good, long run. I sit up and wince at the stinging tug again. Okay,shower, coffee, long run, and then maybe I’ll be able to start getting my thoughts in order. I fling my sheets back and swing my legs around to get out of bed. Instead of touching the wood floor though, my feet land on a pile of clothes. I look down and see the pink shirt Slater wore last night.
He left his clothes. That has to be a good sign, right? Or maybe he was just afraid to wake me. This is why I’m no fucking good at relationships. There are too many questions and games, too many unspoken rules and expectations that always trip me up. Why can’t we just be more direct about shit?
I’m still staring at the pink shirt under my feet when there’s a knock at my door. My heart jumps.
