Page 2 of Caged By the Stranger
A gust of hot breath floods over my tip like a heady exhale, making me shudder. And then I feel it—a mouth. But he doesn’t take me in. His lips aren’t even parted. Fingertips alight on the side of my cock, making me flinch.
No one here has ever touched me with anything other than their mouth before. Granted, I knew the holes were large enoughthat someone could, but I suspected it was just for the illusion that it was possible, hence the name of the club.
He doesn’t grab me, though, but rather just holds me in place as his closed mouth slides across my tip. I can feel moisture, but it’s not from him. His lips are closed. My precum glides along the seam of his mouth, slowly, from end to end until I reach the other side of his… smile. He’s smiling.
My heart kicks like a mule in my chest from the jolt that gives me all the way from my nuts. I hear a soft sound, almost like a sigh of delight. And then…his cheek brushes against my length.
It’s the most surreal sensation I’ve ever felt. Part of me wants to shout, asking him when he’s going to get to it. I don’t come here for foreplay. I didn’t fist and blow my way in the dark throughout college with the guy down the hall for foreplay. We did it because we both just wanted to get off discreetly in our hetero-filled frat house. This is the closest thing to that convenient accommodation that I’ve found since then. I don’t like how the overwhelming swirl of my stomach makes me feel from this…exploration. Maybe I’m hearing things, but I swear the word,Perfect,’ is whispered through the opening just before warm heat envelops my tip, making me feel dizzy.
Fuuuck.
It’s the barest of touches, like someone slowly slurping the drippage from an ice cream cone, but it’s nirvana. The peculiar smile-basting hello he gave me makes sense now. The man behind the wall definitely knows what he’s doing, teasing my senses to fatten me up for the big climax. Something tells me I’m in for the ride of my life, and we’ve barely started.
The next thing I know, I’m engulfed in a deluge of warm heat all the way to my groin. It steals my breath and has me pressing my pelvis flush against the wall to give him everything he so eagerly took.
On my last two visits, I got a few introductory licks. The kind you give to lubricate for smooth sailing, and then the guys went to town. I definitely enjoyed myself. I came in no time, but now I can see how mechanical it all was. The fast-mouth fucking, like each guy had something to prove by how quick he could get a stranger off. Either that or they were just eager to give a blow job.
As my cock vibrates near the back ofMystery Man Number Three’sthroat, I can tell he’s eager too, but not in the same way as the others. He’s…all in. Holy hell, is he all in. And I definitely am too, realizing those vibrations were caused by a low, sultry groan around my cock.
Shit. That’s what I want. Maybe it’s what I’ve always wanted and just didn’t know it—to feel like my cock was a hot commodity. Because let’s face it, that doesn’t exist in the real world without complications. Complications being relationships, neediness, tolerating another human being’s poor qualities just for brief moments of pleasure that become fewer and farther between the longer you’re together. I work too much to keep someone happy, and I’ve never actually dated a man, so I’m not going to pretend I have the first clue how. Watching my parents play a tiresome game of trying to please each other for years was enough of a preview to let me know I’mnota relationship guy.
Retreating slowly, his tongue spirals around me and then flicks tortuously slowly underneath my slit. He leaves me, and a pang of misery hits me over the thought of him stopping. I can still feel his heat, though. He’s still there.
Skin connects with mine. It’s…his hand, and it’s damp. He must have licked it.
The tight draw he makes down my shaft as he suckles my tip has me gasping. I let out a high-pitched noise, which makes my face heat.
I’m a master at keeping quiet. I’ve had to be for most of the times I’ve messed around. Growing up with three very straight brothers and keeping the familial tradition of pledging to the same frat in college didn’t leave me much room for openness. By the time I was out on my own in the world, where I could hook up with someone in a club or off an app, I was so used to not making a sound, it became second nature to me.
The air kisses my dick and his hand lifts it, pointing it upward, momentarily discombobulating me. A gust of hot breath wafts against my balls, reminding me how far I’ve leaned against the panel. Something wet against my tender flesh there gives me a start until I realize it’s his tongue. And now his…mouth. I don’t know why I thought a gloryhole would be smaller, just enough to allow a dick through, but I’m grateful I was wrong.
“Aw, fuck!”
He’s got meinhis mouth. His tongue swirls around one side of my sac, turning every inch of me to gooseflesh. He doesn’t stop there. Tracing figure eights around each of my testicles, working into every nook and cranny, his hand works in tandem, stroking me. It swirls over my tip, gathering more of the embarrassing amount of fluids I’m leaking, using them to slather me up with each new pass.
Holy shit! He…nipped me. He fucking nipped my sac skin!
It didn’t hurt exactly, but…but what the fuck? There’s a sense of disorientation, but also an odd wash of heat from that peculiar act. Before I can decide if I want to draw back in case he thinks about doing it again, his mouth plunges back down my length.
The perfect amount of suction, the heat, the rhythm… The way his fingertips are now gently stroking little circles around my sack and the soft flesh at my groin like he’s reminding me he wants it all—the complete package—well, it’s sensory overload.
I lean my face fully into the panel, completely plastered to it now, like one of those sticky slime hands my nephews usedto slap against a wall. His palm hugs my entire sac while his mouth works its slow, deliberate magic. My knees are shaking at the sensation of him cradling and giving little hugs to my jewels while his mouth does something I didn’t know was possible. I can feel this orgasm building from all the way down in my pinkie toes. It’s like the longest fuse ever created. I’m sweating. It’s the middle of January and I’m freaking sweating.
“Shit. Aw, shit. Shit…”
He doesn’t even flinch. That wicked dance of his mouth never falters. The last guy coughed halfway through, and I felt half of my release drip on the other side of the panel. The one before him, I think, moved back, so when I came, it probably painted his face.
This…this is checking boxes I didn’t even know I had. It’s a map of self-discovery. Everything this man has done tonight has let me in on styles of pleasure I didn’t know I craved. Each pulse I make is timed perfectly with his swallows. And, fuck, I think he just moaned again. The thought of his talented mouth moaning for every drop of me after what it just did is better than any performance award I’ve ever earned.
A little shockwave ripples up my cock and then to my nuts. My entire body jolts from the pleasure overload. I can barely open my eyes, panting so hard my open mouth is half-squished against this panel. He’s…
Aw, shit! He did it again.
He’s…sucking on my tip—my flaccid tip. It’s even better than the blowjob.
Unintelligible sounds tear out of my throat on each full-body tremor, each time he suckles my tip, cupping it with his tongue. It’s madness. It’s freaking madness. I might black out, or…or…
Shit, I’m freaking drooling. Clawing at the panel with my fingertips, it’s all I can do to remain on my feet as he worships my sensitized cockhead like he doesn’t want to say goodbye. I’mso out of my mind, I barely realize he’s given me a reprieve until I hear a softthump.
