Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I exhale as he pulls out of my throat just enough. I let go of my own cock, trying to remember to breathe.
His necklaces hang in the air in front of his chest as he looks down at me. They glint a little in the glow of the neon sign.
“You look good with me between your lips,” he utters.
I catch my breath. “You’re…”
“I know I’m a lot.”
“You’re relentless.”
He gives me a short nod, pushing back his hair. “Yeah. I know.”
I pause for a moment as he strokes his fingertips across my upper shoulder, then digs in, almost like he’s giving me a kneading massage.
He seems to want to touch me at all times. His hand has been roaming from my shoulder to my hair to my neck in a little loop, the whole time. His eyes dance across my face, and his other hand stays stroking along his shaft as he lets me breathe.
“Are you always like this, with women?”
He chews on his lower lip, then lets it go. “Not exactly. But you feel different. Can we not dwell on that?”
I nod at him. “My mouth is right here.”
He groans. “Ugh, fuck.”
He pushes back in again. I’m finally getting used to his oversized dick and his impatience.
I look him in the eye and I can tell he’s getting closer to the edge. The neon glow frames his dark hair like a halo, and with each thrust, his hair bounces a little in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he clutches harder at the back of my head. “Need to come. Want you to watch me.”
I feel his cock pulse. At the last moment, he pulls out of me, digging his hand in my hair while he pumps his fist hard along his cock with the other.
He shoots out across the surface of the roof, streaks of white reaching far beside me on the ground. It’s gorgeous and obscene.
He steps back slowly, but his other hand is still firm at the back of my head. He keeps stroking my hair with his thumb, mindlessly, like I’m his tether back down to Earth.
I wipe my mouth with my hand. He slowly releases my hair, and it feels strange to be let go after being gripped at so insistently.
He collects himself. I watch his massive cock disappear again behind his pants as he zips up, and I almost wish he left it out even as it softened so I could memorize the image of it in my mind.
“Thank you,” I utter, my voice coming out low and hoarse.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re welcome.”
I can’t help but puff out a laugh. “Of course.”
“What?” he protests.
“Of course you like being thanked, even when you’re the one who came.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You basically begged me for it.”
My cock throbs as I look up at him. He’s watching me closely, his eyes trained on me like I’m prey he’s still actively tracking.
“And you’re fucking crazy,” I whisper. “Taking my air from me like that.”
I start to slowly stroke my cock again, and right now I don’t care that I probably look desperate and pathetic on the ground in front of him. It dawns on me that he could easily leave me here like this, hard and dripping for him, and walk away.
“Did you like that?” he asks. “When I cut off your airway?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
Why do I keep telling you the truth?
“I want you to remember this. Next time you come, and the time after that, too.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
You power-hungry tyrant.
He starts to move and I come to terms with the fact that he might be leaving. It was a fun experiment. Certainly solid material for the spank-bank.
But he steps behind me instead of heading for the door.
Then sits behind me, putting his arms around my waist, and suddenly I’m wrapped in his warmth. He bats my hand away from my cock and for a moment, I truly believe he’s going to continue the torture and not let me come.
But his fingers close around my dick, and he gives it a squeeze. He starts to stroke, taking over the job.
It’s far too good.
It’s been way too long.
“You’re going to have to tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he demands. “Only ever touched my own dick before, so I’m just going to do what feels good on me.”
“Chase, Jesus Christ,” I utter. “You don’t have to, if—”
“It’s not fair if I don’t get you back, though. It’s one of my rules. Like… bad karma, or something, if I don’t. I never leave women high and dry.”
“Well, I’m not a woman.”
“Do you want me to touch you, or not?” he asks, irritation rising in his voice, his fist going still on my dick. He still squeezes me hard, but pauses mid-stroke. “It doesn’t have to be a thing. I’m not a homophobe or something, and I’m sure as fuck not afraid.”