Mark takes a firm hold of my hips and lifts me. I half-expect him to haul me into position; instead, he carefully guides me onto my knees facing away from him, my palms set on the mattress. I balance my weight, orientating myself, but I feel steady. Not that I wouldn’t be with Mark’s hands on my waist. He strokes my sides, fingers smoothing over my hip bones.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes,” I answer.
One hand slides up my spine, bunching my shirt until it’s bundled at my neck, and as Mark’s weight moves forward, there’s tremendous pressure on the back of my neck. I give with a yelp. I struggle against the weight to get my head turned and one eye fixed on Mark. “You can’t expect me to stay up when you lean on me like that,” I complain.
Mark chuckles. “I don’t. Is this position comfortable?”
This position, with my ass in the air and my shoulders pinned to the bed? Surprisingly, it is. I resist the urge to grab my cock. Mark keeps me pinned in place. “Are you going to put it in?” I ask. Mark is huge, and I won’t lie and say that I’m not nervous at the prospect. My want far outweighs those nerves. I wriggle. “I bought condoms. They’re in the drawer.”
With my position, I can just about twist my spine enough to see Mark’s face. I have his full attention. “We’ll have to work up to that, otherwise you’ll hurt.”
“I want to anyway. Besides, you slapped me,” I reason. “So you can’t be that—”
Slap. I grab my cock, squeezing to kill the feeling before I release on the sheets.
Mark rubs my exposed ass, stroking where he smacked. His eyes shine, wicked. “I slap you because it makes your cock twitch like crazy, Kyle, and you obviously like it far too much. Where’s the lube?”
“Top drawer,” I huff once the feeling of being on the edge passes.
Mark releases me to retrieve it and I lift up, sitting back awkwardly on one heel to watch him. He drops the bottle onto the bed beside me and sets his hands on my shoulders. He leans down, pressing soft kisses to my mouth.
I pull back. “Will you at least come on my face?” I compromise.
Mark stiffens.
I nuzzle his tensed jaw. “I liked when you did that in your bedroom,” I add, my voice catching.
Mark’s mouth moves, but whatever he says is for himself alone because even with my ear so close to his mouth, I don’t catch any words. He grabs my shirt by the scruff. “You’re impossible,” he says, voice husky. His mouth descends on mine, and it’s not gentle this time. His tongue is in my mouth, his fingers knit into my hair, gripping, and he anchors his hand on my abdomen, holding me still as he ruts his constrained erection against my ass.
He’s good and hard, but before I can twist and try to get him out of his trousers, his hips retreat from me.
“Stay still for me,” Mark asks as I reach back, blindly groping his clothed hips.
“Okay,” I huff. I face forward, balancing as I tug at his belt. Trying to get to the buckle.
Mark chuckles as there’s a small click. I go still. “Is that the lube?”
“Mango flavoured, huh?” The bottle presses into my lower back, and Mark’s knuckles brush against my spine as he squeezes. I shut my eyes, biting my lip as I feel an ungodly amount of lube spilling out onto my skin. It seeps out, pouring down my crack, and then it’s dripping down my thighs. I shudder. “Edible,” Mark says next, running his fingers through the mess he made. “Where did you want this edible, mango-flavoured-lube poured, Kyle?” he asks in the most casual tone. He leans in, mouth touching the top of my spine. “Clearly somewhere you want a mouth to follow shortly afterwards?”
I lose my grip on Mark, and tremble as I reach for my own thighs, gripping the skin hard as I balance. Mark’s mouth descends, vertebrae to vertebrae, until his tongue is at the lube. A full-body shiver wracks my body as he grips my ass cheeks, pulling them apart gently.
“Mark,” I whimper. I goddamnwhimper. “Please, let me—” god what do I even want? My eyes slip shut and my breaths come in quick, desperate huffs. I’m so turned on I can’t even think. The lube makes me feel like I’m getting wet. Getting wet for Mark. “Let me pour it on your cock. I’ll swallow all of you, and you can come in my mouth.”
“Hmm,” Mark hums. His tongue laps up one side of my ass cheek, coming dangerously close to my hole. I jerk, and his gentle grip tightens. Steadies me. Restricts me. “If the goal is to get lube on my cock, there’s plenty right here.”
His face burrows in, hands pushing me up so that he can reach my balls. He sucks them into his mouth, both able to fit so easily and I die. His tongue playswith them, teasing them, probing and lapping. Abruptly, I can’t stay up anymore. I collapse forward gasping, forehead digging into the duvet, sheets twisting into knots in my grip.
“Mark.” I can’t even breathe.
Mark sucks hard as he releases my sack. His tongue drags over my taint, and without hesitation, he’s at my hole. And then a hot tongue and mango lube are inside me. I jerk; the orgasm hitting me out of nowhere. Sudden and unstoppable. I groan as it recedes, realising belatedly that I’d reached for my own cock to jerk, and that the most pathetic little dribble of semen still hanging from my tip is all my body produced.
Mark rubs a reassuring hand along my flank, and I stay curled over as he feels me with his tongue. And then it’s a finger inside me, and then two. When it goes to three, he’s up, leaning over me, pressing sweet mango-smelling kisses to my cheek. “Doing okay over here?” Mark asks.
“I can fit your cock,” I tell him, tired, but still eager. I want to. God, I want to so badly.
Mark’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “Can you?”
