Page 44 of Dirty Air
Fritz dives forward, lapping it up wherever he can, slurping the liquid as if Henry was an ice luge. It’s a combination he’s never tried before—a mixture of champagne, shower water, and sweat.
It’s addicting.
His nails leave marks in Henry’s flesh, his thighs, his ass—anywhere he holds the man steady for his tongued ministrations. When the bottle is empty, Fritz licks upwards in lines, cleaning every last drop before starting again. Henry’s dick bumps against his cheek, twitching every time he starts a new line instead of swallowing him down.
“Shameless.” Henry’s voice is full of awe as he pets Fritz’s hair with his free hand. He pushes the wet strands out of his face, giving himself an uninterrupted view. “Fuck, we need to win more races. Your tongue?—”
Fritz leans into the loving touches as he finally wraps his hand around Henry’s cock and pumps it. His fingers can’t fully circle the girth, so he ducks forward and licks a stripe up the side, covering the space his grip can’t reach.
He wants all of Henry. Heneedsit.
Once his tongue swipes over the tip, he wraps his lips around the head and sucks.
“Fuck!” Henry exclaims. His hand jolts and clenches Fritz’s hair.
Fritz moans, letting himself be pulled away from the thick cock as he continues to pump. The combination of shower water and champagne slicks up Henry’s dick and makes the slide easier.
“You can be rough.” Fritz’s head falls back, showing off the line of his throat. “I can take it.”
The hand in his hair moves to cradle his jaw, squeezing his cheeks and working his mouth back open. “Youwantto choke on my cock? I should’ve known.”
The accusation sends shivers down his spine, but Fritz relaxes as Henry lines himself up and pushes.
He’s much thicker than most of the dicks Fritz has taken. His lips strain around the girth, but Henry’s hand is steady as he drives himself forward.
“Everyone said you wanted to get a rise out of me. Is this what you needed? Is this what you were asking for in the pit lane?” Henry pulls out, just a hair, and juts forward, thrusting deeper into Fritz’s throat.
He hits the back of Fritz’s palate, and the driver gags as he adjusts, his eyes watering. There’s still so much to go.
“Next time you’re aching for a cock, don’t discredit the strategy. Just open your mouth and ask nicely.”
Henry rocks forward, working himself deeper with every push. Fritz focuses on relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose as his neck flexes with the intrusion. He feels so full, his cock achingly hard once again.
Henry doesn’t ease up. He drills inside, inch after unyielding inch, until he bottoms out.
Fritz’s nose presses against Henry’s champagne-soaked pubic hair. Euphoria burns in his veins when he trails his eyes up and meets Henry’s loving expression.
The stream of water hits the back of Henry’s head, bouncing off and catching the light until a halo is formed around him.
“Ready?” Henry’s fingers trace the length of Fritz’s neck where he’s sheathed. Despite his tough talk, he looks awestruck.
Fritz closes his eyes and tries to nod.
Henry pulls out slightly before thrusting impossibly deeper. The sudden move surprises Fritz, who chokes on it. Henry doesn’t let up—he sets a punishing pace with a hand braced on Fritz’s skull, forcing him to take it.
Fritz can’t hold out any longer. He moans as his hand flies to his too-hard cock, pumping it quick and harsh until he spills on the tiles at Henry’s feet.
“I’m—I’m so close,” Henry warns.
He attempts to pull away, but Fritz's neck is too strong to budge. The driver continues the punishing pace Henry has set, bobbing his head until the engineer comes down his throat.
Henry is much more vocal in person than on the phone, and his groan echoes in the small shower stall.
It’s perfect.
After his release, Henry stumbles backwards.
Fritz gasps, his hand flying to his suddenly cleared throat. “Even that tasted like champagne,” he croaks.
