Chuckling, I reply, “You seem to know an awful lot about dick size, city boy.”
“I’m…educated.” He flashes me a blinding smirk.
“Mmhmm, I see that.”
Xander scoots toward the end of the bed, slapping my hand away as he replaces it with his own. “And I’m about to learn a thing or two about yours here in a minute.”
The blood roars in my ears, the sound deafening as the feel of his hand on my dick sends pleasure ricocheting through my body.
His fingers grip the base, pumping me nice and slow as his heated eyes bore into mine. He uses both hands, wrists flicking on the upstroke. The sensation is too good, and he’s barely doing anything. The soft feel of his hands, and how they look wrapped around my length, it’s such a contrast to my own hand. Xander leans in, wet pink tongue poking out as he rubs the slick, sensitive tip of my cock along the flat of it as he continues to stroke me like we have all the time in the world.
I’ve thought about this for weeks. Fantasized about what it would be like—what it would feel like—and if this is only the beginning, then I’m doomed. I’m not leaving this hotel room the same man I was when I walked in. My chest expands to full capacity as I try to drag in the breath that doesn’t want to come; my lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen, greedy for more in the same way I’m greedy for more Xander. There’s a low-simmering hum vibrating through my body. Through every limb, wrapping around my bones, intertwining with each muscle. A hum that’s euphoric and addicting.
Full, plush lips close around my crown, pulling a long, low groan from my throat as his tongue swirls around and he applies the right amount of suction to make my toes curl. He lets out a soft moan, too, as if he’s finding pleasure from making me feel good. A warm, sure hand drops to my balls, kneading and rolling them around as he sinks lower, taking more of my cock into his pretty little mouth. It’s a fucking sight. Probably the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen in my life.
Xander’s lips are stretched to full capacity around me, and I can’t help myself. I bring my thumb up and trace where he’s barely making me fit. His tongue pulsates along the underside of my shaft, his bloodshot eyes lifting to peer up at me from beneath his dark lashes. He looks like a fucking angel taking me, and my chest wants to cave in on itself with how much I’m feeling in this moment. The more he takes of me, the more he moans as he does it; the more I fall a little deeper. My blood heats, my heart pounds, my pulse races. The more he does—hell, the more he just simply fucking exists—the hazier my mind becomes. The hold he has on me is unreal.
Tears spring to Xander’s eyes as he sinks the rest of the way, taking every last inch of me. My eyes roll back, and I can’t stop myself from grabbing hold of the back of his head, fingers tightening against the strands. “Fuck, Xander.”
I don’t even recognize my own voice. The heat of it, the lust wrapped around every syllable, it’s foreign and only turns me on more. He’s been sucking my dick all of three minutes, and I’m already embarrassingly close to busting. This is too much.He’stoo much.
I can’t fucking get enough.
20
XANDER DAWSON
Ihave died and gone straight to big dick heaven.
Cope’s staring down at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on as I swallow hismassivecock. And I meanmassive.Seriously, how is it fair that someone as good lookingandgenuinely nice as he is, is also graced with a dick nearly the size of my forearm?
Okay, that’s slightly an exaggeration, but not by much.
His fingers are combing through my hair, and the way they grip feels so damn good. I’m going to look like a frizz ball by the time we’re done, but I don’t even care. I’m doused in all things Cope Murphy, and I’m drunk on it. His fresh scent is everywhere, the clean taste of his cock, the salty flavor of his arousal as it drips onto my tongue while he watches me take him. Breathing ragged, the noises he gives me as I suck him down are a symphony of my filthiest dreams. He’s perfect.
I’m so hard, but I can’t even think about pulling myself out and relieving the ache because all I can focus on is him…every last inch of him. By some miracle, I’m able to take his whole length in my mouth. It fills my throat and cuts off my air, but it’s pure ecstasy. My nose brushes up against the trimmed hair at hisbase, the same color as that on his head. Nothing but the whites of his eyes shine as they roll back, his jaw having gone slack, only a breathless moan slipping between his parted red lips. Having this effect on him is surreal. It’s heady. Powerful.
I want nothing more than to sit him on the edge of the bed as I climb on top of him, and ride him until he can’t see straight, but I know he isn’t ready for that. He may not even touch me tonight below the belt, and truthfully, I’m okay with that. I’ve always known I was gay; it was never a question, but I know, from witnessing friends go through this, that trying dick for the first time after only ever tasting pussy can be intimidating for some. We can go as slow as he needs as long as I get to keep making him feel like this.
And besides, it isn’t about me tonight. We’re celebratinghim.
Cope gets louder the longer I suck him off, his grip on my hair turning painful, but I welcome it. I love it. Getting to see this side of him feels like a privilege. He’s this hardworking bronc rider, a kind, helping neighbor, and a funny, laid-back, but always there for those who matter, type of friend. He’s the man who would help an elderly woman out to her car and carry her groceries for her, or stop to help a wounded animal on the side of the road. He’s multifaceted, but this side of him, I get the impression he doesn’t show many people. This side is reserved for those lucky enough to earn their way in.
I can’t help but wonder if he fucks hard and ruthless, or if he’s kind and sweet. Maybe he’s both, depending on the day or the mood. Maybe he’d find pleasure out of being the one to get fucked. While I prefer to bottom most of the time, as the feeling of fullness is too good to pass up, I do enjoy topping occasionally.
My hand finds his impressive balls again, and I work them around in my grip, moaning as I taste more of his flavor explode on my tongue. He’s getting close, his hips undulating of their own accord. Just when I think he’s about to unload down mythroat, he pulls off, gripping himself hard at the base, staving off that impending release.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “I don’t want to come yet.”
Cope hikes a hand under my arm, hauling me up, and crashes his lips into mine, tongue surging past the barrier and into my mouth. His desire is so potent, I can taste it dripping off of him as he owns me. The kiss is messy. It’s sloppy and lacking any sort of finesse, but I don’t care. Shoving me onto the bed, he moves in between my legs, fingers going to the waistband of my pants, and a flicker of something that vaguely resembles hesitancy flashes through his eyes, but as soon as he blinks, it’s gone.
Fully hard, my dick springs out as soon as he pulls the material down, the swollen head slapping against my stomach. Cope’s eyes zero in on my crotch as he wets his lips with his tongue. I’m not even sure if he realizes he does it. Once he’s fully rid me of my clothes, he finds his place between my thighs again, hands pressed firmly down on them. With the way his eyes are wide and he’s unmoving, I think he may be freaking out.
“We—We don’t have to do this,” I tell him shakily. My heart slams against my ribs, the tiny sliver of fear of rejection sneaking into my mind, making me want to cover myself.
But then… Well, then Cope’s eyes snap up to meet mine, and the look I read as panic reveals itself clear as day as raw, hungry lust.
“I want to,” is all he says. Doesn’t make any attempt to move; maybe waiting for my permission. “Unless you don’t want to?”
