“How does your boss's cock feel?” I murmur.
“Oh sooo good…” he squeals out.
“You are a lucky guy… usually I don’t do this. Quite a treat you are getting tonight,” I growl into his ear.
“I know your cock is sensational,” he moans out, his face melting away in pleasure. “Fuck me Sir…”
Those words set a fire inside me. Setting the bonfire for me to cream him, soak his arse with my milk. He’s not walking out of this apartment until his behind is dripping with my seed.
And let me tell I’ve got loads built up, ready to explode. Like a bundle of dynamite that’s been waiting for bloody ages.
I thrust inside, playing around with his little prostate, thumping it look we are playing bumper cars, just to witness the quivers of bliss ripple across those pupils.
“Harder!” he begs, his cut prick bursting loads of precum onto his lower tummy.
“You are a desperate one huh?” I tease, grinding in circles.
He feels wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something missing. Is it the hair? Or just the muscles that Austin has?
I don’t fucking know.
Jesus Charlie, forget about him for one damn moment. Austin might think the world revolves around him, but you don’t have to think that too. Let him suffer the consequences of his actions for once. No matter if he might get hurt by your bastard twin.
“Mhmmm,” he whimpers, attempting to make some words, but it comes across as a mumbled moan.
I pound his arse with a new intensity. If he wants to be taken to pound town, fine. I’ll fucking him take him there and claim his smooth arse in the process.
My quads vibrate as I thrust in rapidly. Viscous short thrusts to stretch his tight sphincter. My cock will ruin his cute peach for a week or so. But I guarantee he’ll be back roaming the streets, waiting for a sexy top to pick him up from the bar.
“Ohhh I’m so close boss,” he whines out. His short cock begins to seize against his tummy. I thrust faster and more profoundly. I want to see that load burst across his stomach. Deliver him some salvation for tonight.
“Fuck yeah. Show me that load.” I growl, shoving my fingers down his throat.
He whimpers like a bitch, I glance down to see his burst of milk flooding into his navel.
“Ohhh that was good,” he laughs, a sense of relaxation over washing his body. His muscles going limp. “You gonna cum Sir?”
I swivel my head. “Nah, I reckon I’m alright.”
I do want to cum, burst my load into his twink body. But I just can’t. It doesn’t feel right.
Ughh. Maybe it’s not going to be this simple to move on from Austin. He’s got me in a chokehold I can’t slip free of. I tell myself to let him go, empty my noggin of every thought of him, but I can’t. Every perfection and imperfection of him is seared into my memory.
“Please…” he looks at me, his voice wavering, pouty eyes attempting to reel me back in.
“Sorry, not going to happen.” I murmur flatly, my prick beginning to lose it’s blood flow, like it knows that we’ve already checked out of the grocery store.
“Damn, really? You are going to fuck me, have me cum first and then not finish the job?” His disbelief grates through the air of the bedroom.
“I guess so.” I shrug, shaking my head. “Sorry, didn’t mean for to happen like this, but you are free to leave.” I flicker my eyes towards the door.
“Didn’t know British guys were so rude,” he huffs, slipping his clothes back on, his blonde hair sticking up in messy tufts. “Hope I don’t so you around town.”
Troy prances out the apartment, slamming the door with his exit.
Well what are you going to do? Hookups aren’t kumbayas. They don’t end with everyone holding hands, singing in harmony about their feelings. More often than not, someone walks away pissed off or disgust, ready to drown out the memory with a handle of Jack.
That’s the difference. That’s why Austin is so rare—why his chestnut eyes still have me mesmerised, even though he pretty much told me to fuck off tonight. I know he didn’t mean it. Not really. Those words were barbed by the wire Drew wrapped around him.
