Gap Filler for 410
NC 17
So I suck his dick in the backroom like it’s the first and last
dick I’ll suck in my life. He needs the enthusiasm, the fervor, the damn good
show I’m putting on…but most of all he needs the mind-bending orgasm I rip from
his body inside of three minutes.
Back arches, hips buck, lips part. He’s beautiful like this, so fucking
painfully beautiful.
His hands clutched into my just-long-enough hair, he tries not to ram the back
of my throat with the tip of his swelled cock as it spits and quivers - so
goddamned happy to finally be shooting.
I let his come slide down my throat, I swallow around his dick – more sensitive
that it normally is. He hums and hisses a bit, uses his hands to move and guide
my head so it’s all just a little too much for him. I grip the outsides of his thighs,
hold him in place against the dark cement come-stained wall.
I think briefly about the semen in the back of my throat, how it’s different
now, but how it’s exactly the same. It’s still him, still comes from him, was
part of him, but it’s half now…half as much as it used to be. Or is it? If you
lose a ball to produce less come? I don’t know, haven’t researched it. I feel
unsettlingly uninformed on the matter.
I make a mental note to look up the information on line when we get home. Then
I think - you’ll be up all night getting your brains fucked out, dumb ass.
I’m so damn hard I can feel my zipper leaving an indent in the soft skin on the
backside of my dick where it strains against the placket of my jeans. I rub my
crotch into Brian’s leg a little. I’m still on my knees in front of him. Still
watching the half-mast wonder that is his beautiful cock. I’ve told him a
million times and I’ll tell him again, his head ain’t getting any bigger, it’s
the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.
Life is beautiful right now, I feel like I’m on fucking “E”. He’s hard and
happy and smiling and not puking. All of which is a vast improvement over the
last two weeks.
I love Brian, no one doubts it, not even him anymore, but it’s rough…all of the
side affects of sickness, it’s really rough. And I don’t mean the lack of sex,
I can jerk off with the best of them. I mean looking at the circles under his
eyes and hearing the constant scratch in his voice thanks to the strain on his
throat from the vomiting. Hearing him come home in the middle of the day and
watching him lie down in bed, so goddamned defeated because he can’t do his job
for more than three hours at a time. Hearing him up in the middle of the night
heaving his guts up or pacing the floor, upset by another bad dream.
He pulls me up in front of him, we kiss deep and hard like we haven’t seen each
other in years, and that’s how it feels – like it’s been years. Years since
I’ve felt the push of his tongue against the roof of my mouth. Years since I’ve
felt his fingers curl around the sides of my waist. Years since I’ve felt his
left leg creep between my thighs and left us to rub against my balls. Years
since I’ve heard him pant and hum and plead into my mouth.
“Take me home,” I huff onto his lips. My eyes are wild and desperate. I need to
be fucked now.
“No, here,” he says quietly into my ear. He asks me almost.
I pause, but then I nod. I know he needs to show the world, to prove this to
the world.
The return of the king is upon us.
He pushes my jeans over my hips, tugs on my dick a few times until I back away,
swatting at his hand and laughing at how eager he is. Reminds me of a horny
teenager…hell, he reminds me of me.
He turns me toward the wall, I’d like to throw my legs around his waist and
have him hold me up while he fucked me face to face, but that takes stamina and
effort even in the best of health, so it will have to wait…
He’s hard again and inside of me and my eyes close as my palms push flat
against the wall. I get some leverage and start pushing back into him, giving
back as much as he’s giving me. He bites my neck just above the collar of my
shirt and then swipes his tongue over the teeth marks. Then he sucks the soft
skin behind my ear, drawing blood to the surface, keeping himself from
screaming.
I chant his name and beg him to fuck me harder. My jeans fall to my knees and
then down to my ankles. He has his hands up the front of my shirt, roaming my
stomach and brushing dangerously close to my dick. If he touches me I’ll come.
I grab his wrist, “I’ll shoot.”
“Isn’t that the point,” he laughs into my ear.
“A little longer,” I pant and let my forehead drop to the wall and my hand
drops his wrist. I think about what shift I’m working at the diner tomorrow and
then about what pages of the comic I promised Michael by morning. I calculate
how many hours that leaves me for fucking.
I plan to be on my back at least until dawn.
“Harder,” I command, pushing back into him and listening to the hitch in his
breathing as he tries to make it last through a few more thrusts.
One…two…three…
And we’re done. The heat and pleasure and little slice of pain rip through me,
settle in my gut, push out my fingers and toes.
He collapses onto my back, hot air wets my neck. He kisses me softly there over
and over again. He says something I can’t quite make out, but it sounds a lot
like ‘thank you’. I smile to myself and will my legs to withstand the weight
draped over my back.
He pulls out and cleans up, pulling my pants up on the way. I don’t know if I
expect applause, or even recognition, but nothing comes. The peanut gallery
fucks on, huffing and puffing and blowing their wads.
He puts his arms around my waist and sinks his face into the crook of my neck.
He kisses his way up my jaw and to my lips. We make out against the wall for a
while, sighing every so often and trying to catch our breath.
“Take me home,” he says lightly.
I lead him out of the club and back to the car. He looks dead on his feet so I
put in the passenger side of the ‘Vette and drive us back to the loft.
I get him upstairs and strip off his sweat-drenched, smoke-filled clothes. I
leave him lying in the center of the bed, naked and spent. I watch him drift
off and slip into what seems like the most peaceful sleep he’s had in as long
as I can remember. I curl up into the tiny space beside him, pressing my face
to his side and wrapping my body around his…and I sleep too.
Feedback to throughthelens78@yahoo.com