David tasted salty, but soapy and floral at the same time. Every time Mason took his dick to the back of his throat, more precum pulsed out, almost like miniature climaxes. Mason tried to keep himself elevated, but his arms could only hold out so long as David sucked on him so hard and so furiously. His muscles didn’t really work, so he laid down, belly tense as he waited for David to freak out.
David sucked faster, harder, and Mason had to start naming dog breeds, US capitols, and Supreme Court justices to keep himself from finishing. He poured what remained of his focus into bobbing up and down on David’s dick. He wanted to godeeper, get it all the way in. He was thick, but not unmanageable, and Mason wasn’t afraid of a few tears. Every time he got another centimeter past his lips, his eyes watered as it touched the back of his throat.
A new sensation bloomed up. In the haze of everything, it took Mason a few seconds to collect himself enough to recognize it. David’s hand had crept down and gone up the leg of his underwear, and now he was slowly rubbing and nuzzling Mason’s balls.
Mason pulled off long enough to talk. “We need to talk about finishing.” It took effort to keep his voice in some form that could reasonably be understood, and all the while, he kept one hand stroking David, kept the precum flowing. “Do you want me—”
“Cum in my mouth.”
That was the only pause, a brief, hoarse whisper, and then David was back to sucking him off, massaging his balls.
“Okay. Uh, same.” Then Mason had to get David back between his lips. He wrapped them tightly and tried to milk David. Mason was well aware that he wasn’t going to last very much longer himself, so he wanted to make David finish quicker too. Nobody liked to be the first one to cum, after all.
His hole clenched and his toes curled, and he sucked harder, getting another spray of salt and musk. Mason swallowed back precum and moaned and tried to remember if Potter Stewart came before or after Sandra Day O’Connor, but his tricks weren’t holding out.
He felt David’s dick pulse, but it was different, stronger, more forceful. He dove down on it, sucking back hard, and then he tasted something new. Not the mild saltiness of precum, but something intense. Bitter, but not unpleasant. Still salty, but in a more mineral, natural way. Almost bright. It was cum, therewas no denying that, but Mason lapped at David’s head, trying to earn himself even another drop or two.
Then the world shattered apart. He couldn’t hold himself back, and as pieces of himself broke off, floating around the void, the only thing that remained was the intensity of David’s mouth wrapped around his dick. Constant pressure, overwhelming heat, and lightning that crashed and collided between the shattered pieces of himself. It was like the power of his climax was the only thing keeping him even remotely together; without it, Mason would have ceased to exist, because it was everything.
It could only have been ten seconds at most, but coming down from the high of the orgasm was still more than a bit disconcerting. Mason rolled to one side, and thankfully it was the side where the bed was there to catch him. His dick chilled, exposed to the air-conditioned hotel room again, and he had to work to draw each breath, to fill his lungs enough to satiate himself.
David shifted around so he was laying the same way around as Mason. He draped an arm over Mason and pulled in close. Mason knew it was coming, but that didn’t blunt the impact at all. He still just about melted.
“Good boy.”
Chapter eighteen
David
Theyhadn’tgonebackto the bedroom together, even though they were staying in the same hotel, barely any space between them, and even though David was pretty sure they’d both had an excellent time. Not that David was exactly disappointed—the blow jobs were plenty of fuel for his spank bank for a while—but he wouldn’t have minded another foray. Maybe a deeper foray.
Especially since they had to spend so much time around each other, and every time David looked at Mason’s ass, he imagined what it would be like to dive in tongue first. There was something so primal and powerful about going to town on a rim job…plus David just wanted to get more. Whatever more looked like.
Amazing that he wasthissmitten in such a short time. They’d only been working on his condo for eight days. It wasn’t justhim and Mason making progress, either; the house was coming together faster than David would have ever through possible. All the flooring had been put in, and even though both Jake and Eddie, the lead contractor they’d brought in, gave the all-clear, Homescapes called in a third opinion to sign off on it before they moved on. Both bathrooms had working toilets for the first time since David had moved in. There were boxed-up appliances sitting in what should have been his living room, which meant he would have a fully furnished kitchen as well.
Evander had pulled him in to take a look at tiles for the master bath and give the final go-ahead. “Now, I know that you like color. I like color. But I want you to really think about this.” He chuckled. “It’s a lot.”
“Oh, I know. I picked it out to be a lot in the first place.” He grabbed one of the turquoise tiles, the brightest shade of it he’d been able to find. “They look nice and calm when it’s darker, right?” He stuck the tile into the shadow cast by the two of them standing there, and while it was still visibly turquoise, it was significantly less aggressive. “But in the light, it makes a statement. And it’s still in that bathroom color area.”
Evander smiled. “Good, I was worried you’d talked yourself out of them.” He grabbed the tile and placed it back in the stack. “I think it’s going to be stunning, but I’d be irresponsible not to check in before we place them.” He gestured to the floor. “It’ll be a nice pair with the new floors.”
The floors in the bathrooms had been done as well, finishing all that up in one go. He’d settled on the same thing for both, even though the overall design choices for the guest bathroom were much more muted. The chevron-shaped tiles added some interest on their own, but they also had lines of gold running through them. Obviously not real gold, but it got the color and the feeling across, even though the main bodies, as well as the grout, were white.
“I really think it’s going to look good, honestly.” Evander sighed and leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed and a smile on his face. “Of course, it helps that we’re working with an actual artist. Not that I would ever speak ill about the tastes of any of our clients, but…you’re a nice change of pace.”
David snorted a laugh. “I remember Aunt Whitney’s collection of creepy ceramic bears.”
Evander shut his eyes and shook his head. “And now so do I. Not actually what I was referring to, but…at least she was passionate about them, I guess. Even if I wish we could have put them in a box in the attic.”
Before David could respond, the cameraman pulled back and Eliza stepped into the room, smiling, her hands clasped at her waist. “David, can we have a chat? I want to run something by you and Mason.”
David’s body tensed. Did she know? Was it a problem? He saw Evander and Ozzy on each other every free second, but maybe the rules were different. “Hope it’s nothing bad.”
“Oh, God no.” She waved the concern away like a gnat. “I think it would be good to have a feature in this episode, talking about your experience with your aunt and uncle’s house. Really tie it back into the VideoHead content, hit the personal connection, all that good stuff.”
Of course it was nothing bad.Hanging around Mason too long and I’m picking up his penchant for anxiety. “Let’s go then. Always happy to reminisce.” Plus it sounded like he was now contractually obligated to spend more time looking at Mason.I’ll recover from the tragedy, I suppose.
Eliza led the way down the hall, past Aras swearing at some wires next to the sliding door to the balcony, around Robinson and the plumbers from the contractor’s crew hooking something up in the kitchen, and around to the living room, which had been commandeered as the command center. It was sparse as hellwithout all his furniture in place, only some folding chairs and a big, beige card table, which was occupied by Mason and his computer.
