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Triple Play
  • Текст добавлен: 24 сентября 2016, 04:56

Текст книги "Triple Play"


Автор книги: Sloan Johnson



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 6

I was beat by the time Drew’s mom finally decided it was safe for her to go to bed. I sat down on the sofa in the great room and turned on the TV but quickly realized that wasn’t a good idea. The light and sound echoing off the high ceilings would keep Drew’s parents awake, so I hit the power button, collected a few snacks and headed toward the basement.

As I passed Drew’s room, I heard faint moaning. I peeked my head around the side of the door and saw his body jerking. “Stop,” he pleaded. “Why me? Why? I’ll give you anything you want…”

It quickly became apparent that he was reliving last night’s ordeal. God, had it really only been one night? I dropped the snacks and six pack of beer near the door and quickly crossed the room to his side. Because it’s what my own mother had done when I’d had restless nights, I dropped to the mattress next to Drew and carded my fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay,” I soothed him. “It’s just a dream, buddy. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

He tried curling into a ball on his side and woke with a start. When he rolled over to face me, his eyes were vacant, almost as if he was still sleeping. I kept talking to him as I rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re okay, Drew. I promise.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“You had a dream,” I told him, keeping my voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry through the house because I doubted he wanted his parents to see him this way. “I walked past your room and heard you.”

Drew looked embarrassed. That was stupid, because the man had nothing to be ashamed of. I was trying to keep from going to sleep myself, because I knew damn well the images from last night were going to haunt me as well. They already had the two times I’d tried to turn off my brain.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling the covers up under his chin. “God, I need a shower. I feel like hell.”

“Can you manage on your own?” It wasn’t as if seeing a naked man was all that unusual. Athletes quickly lost any sense of modesty when they were serious about sports. It was part of why most of us tried to keep it under wraps that we were gay. We didn’t use the locker room as a way to perv on our buddies or anything, but that didn’t mean the straight guys wouldn’t be uncomfortable if they knew. In my mind, it seemed even worse to not tell them, because that made it seem as if there was something wrong with us.

Drew pushed off the mattress and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He got about halfway to a standing position before falling back to the bed. “Fuck, this sucks.”

He tried again and I fisted my hands into the sheets to keep from rushing to his aid. I could only imagine how helpless he felt after having his mother all but threatening to strap him to the bed if he didn’t stay there. She didn’t understand that he’d never get better if he just laid around all day. It was going to hurt like a bitch, but he needed to be up and moving around so his body didn’t stiffen even further. After a second failed attempt, I walked around to his side of the bed and offered him my arm for support.

“Hey, you’re going to be fine,” I assured him. “Needing a little help for a few days won’t kill you.”

“It might,” he grumbled. The half bath across the hall from his room was barely big enough for the two of us, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by suggesting we go to my room with the full bath and larger walk-in shower.

“It only seems like that,” I chided. I waited until he was leaning against the vanity and eased my way past him to turn on the water. The only blessing about this bathroom was that the shower was the walk in kind rather than a tub and shower combo. “Come on, let’s get that hospital funk cleaned off of you.”

“Yeah, because that’s the worst of it.” I’d heard that Drew was a moody bastard, but until now I hadn’t experienced it for myself. I pretended to not hear his comment and held my hand under the stream of water to make sure it was warm enough.

Drew fumbled with the hem of his T-shirt, trying to pull it up without moving too much. Every time he moved, his face contorted, betraying how much pain he had to still be in.

Rather than worry about getting him a towel, or even how he was going to manage to stay upright in the shower, I reached for the cotton and slowly pulled it over his head. He tensed when the backs of my fingers grazed the bruises on his side. “Hey, you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he affirmed. I eased the shirt over his head and allowed him to pull it down his arm and drop it to the floor.

Luckily, it was easier for him to shimmy out of his sweatpants, because I was quickly realizing that this was nothing like being in the locker room. I’d never had an issue looking at another man and remembering he was off-limits, but that was hard with Drew. We’d spent much of the week I’d been home hanging out when he wasn’t at the club, and I’d grown to care about him. Not in some gushy, romantic, chick flick way, but he was someone I hoped to get to know better over the winter. We hadn’t talked much, but that was because we both knew the other wasn’t up for that. I didn’t have to worry about him striking up a conversation to simply fill the dead air, and I knew better than to try and get his mind off worrying about the next game.

I knew Drew had a lot of shit swirling through his head. As much as he tried to pretend he wasn’t upset by Cam and Jason’s relationship, I knew it was hard on him. I knew better than he could possibly realize, although I hadn’t found a way to share that with him. It seemed like a betrayal for me to share my own story without Sean’s knowledge since it involved him as well.

Sean and I had been best friends back when I was still with the Mavericks. It started as roommates and someone to hang out with on days off but eventually morphed into something more. I knew he never saw it as anything other than a safe way for the two of us to release the sexual tension from building up to the point where we did something foolish, but that wasn’t what it was to me. As the months dragged on and one season turned into two and then three, I began to feel something for him. Something he’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t want.

Without realizing how uncomfortable I was becoming, Drew allowed his pants and briefs to fall to the floor. It seemed he had no issues being naked around other people as he made no move to shield or cover himself. He stepped away from the vanity with one shaky step and reached back for support. “Fuck, is everything on me fucked up?”

Yeah, it was, but I wasn’t about to say that. While the attacker hadn’t done any real damage to Drew’s leg, his knee was bruised and swollen. His entire torso was a kaleidoscope of color that was only going to get worse over the next few days.

Drew tried again to take the four steps from the sink to the shower, this time making it to the door before having to reach out to the wall. It quickly became apparent a shower was not going to happen.

“Fuck, this is embarrassing.” Drew leaned against the wall and hung his head while I tried to keep my eyes from wandering to the perfect bubble of his ass or his lightly furred thighs. Drew turned his head to look at me and I quickly averted my eyes to every inane detail of my bathroom walls. “I can’t even take a fucking shower by myself. Twenty-five fucking years old and I’m totally helpless.”

Two things about that statement struck me in the gut. First, was the obvious pain and humiliation Drew felt. Whether or not it was logical, I understood what he was feeling. Second, I felt like an asshole for checking out a guy over ten years my junior. In six weeks, I’d be thirty-six. Not an old man by any stretch, but ancient in our world. And way too old to be sporting wood over someone his age.

“Give it time,” I said, knowing I was going to regret what I was about to do. I grabbed the hem of my own shirt and started stripping to my shorts. It wasn’t ideal, but they were dark and I could pretend I was wearing swim trunks. “I’ll help you and then we’ll get you back into bed.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Drew insisted.

“Do you have a better idea?” I asked drily. “If you’d rather, I can run upstairs and let your mom know that you need a sponge bath.”

It was a shitty move to threaten him with his mother, but it did the trick. I saw the moment Drew conceded defeat as his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung even lower to his chest. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” I chuckled as I pulled two towels out of the cabinet and set them on the edge of the vanity. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up a bit and back to your room before the warden realizes you’ve escaped.”

That had the intended effect, and Drew huffed a silent laugh. It wasn’t much, but I’d take whatever I could get if it got him out of his own head for a few minutes.

I eased Drew into the shower and pulled the door closed behind us. He still fought the urge to tell me to get the fuck out of there and let him do this on his own, but he stood there stiff as a board as I reached around him for a washcloth and the bar of soap in the holder.

My dick apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that this was nothing more than one roommate helping another and it grew harder every time Drew moaned as I ran my hands over his skin. He leaned back against my chest and I shifted, certain that my erection would press torturously between his ass checks.

“That feels amazing,” Drew praised. “You’re a good friend, Eric.”

He could claim that, but I sure as hell didn’t feel like one. I felt as though I were taking advantage of the situation. My mind urged me to push the boundaries and drop the scrap of terrycloth to the floor so I could feel the soapy glide of my hands on his rippled stomach. It’d be so easy to allow my fingers to tease the smattering of dark blond hair leading to his cock. To wrap my fingers around it and see how he’d moan in pleasure as I stroked him.

With one hand on his shoulder to steady him, I took a step back, needing space between our bodies. Drew reached out to me. I wanted to believe it was because he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but that was ludicrous.

I wasn’t certain, but given the amount of time Bryce had spent in his room today, I assumed they were together. That was just one more reason for Drew to be off-limits. The cons to even entertaining thoughts of burying myself deep in his ass outweighed the pros.

I held Drew’s shoulders and positioned him under the spray of water as I handed him the washcloth. He looked ridiculous standing there trying to keep his casted arm out of the spray of water while the terrycloth dangled from his other hand. “Here, I think you can manage the rest.”

I stared through the mist-covered shower door, trying to make out the shapes in the wallpaper on the other side of the room, knowing he was washing his most private areas. I nearly choked on my own saliva as I swallowed to keep from drooling or from opening my mouth to suggest helping him.

The flow of water stopped, leaving both of us dripping wet and cold. I forgot how icy this bathroom was to shower in if the baseboard heater wasn’t turned on. I shivered and stepped out for the towels, handing one to Drew without turning to look at him. I’d already pushed my self-restraint further than could possibly be healthy.

While Drew dried off, I raced down the hall to my room, hoping I wasn’t leaving puddles of water on the hardwood floors. If he needed help, he’d ask and I needed a moment to calm myself down. I could not fall for my much younger, vulnerable roommate. I also couldn’t ever let him hear me refer to him as vulnerable. Injured or not, he’d likely kick my ass from here to the state line.

“Eric.” Drew’s voice calling to me pulled me out of my self-recriminations.  I pulled on a pair of sweatpants as I hurried down the hall.

He’d managed to hobble his way back to his bedroom, but stood in front of his dresser staring at the bottom drawer.

“Stupid fucking ribs,” he muttered. “Can’t even bend over to get a damn pair of pants for myself.”

I squeezed his shoulder when I stepped up behind him. “You’ve gotta knock off that self-pity bullshit,” I scolded him. “It really isn’t working for you and it’s starting to annoy the hell out of me.”

“Gee, sorry I’m bothering you,” he sulked. I closed my eyes tightly and pursed my lips to keep from saying something stupid. “If you could just get me a pair of pants out of the bottom drawer, you can go back to your happy little bubble.”

I sighed heavily, willing myself to be patient with him. It’d only been twenty-seven hours since the attack, and he was used to being independent. It had to be an adjustment for him.

“Actually, I was thinking I’d sneak you down to the basement and we could watch a movie or something,” I told him. I didn’t look at him because I didn’t want him to see that I did feel bad for him. The only thing worse than self-pity was others taking pity on you when you’re down. “It’s gotta be boring as hell to lay in your bed and your mom’s probably sound asleep by now. What do you say?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

I steadied Drew while allowing him to dress himself. It looked awkward and I could tell it hurt, but I was bound and determined to prove that I didn’t see him as some sort of cripple. He was perfectly capable of doing shit for himself. He just needed to learn how to adapt until he was more mobile.

The beer and chips were still sitting on the floor right inside Drew’s bedroom door. The beer had gotten warm and I wasn’t hungry, so I excused myself to put everything back in the kitchen while he made his way to the stairs. “Do you want a sandwich or something? You haven’t had much.”

“Yeah, that’d be good. Thank you.”

I nodded and turned away. It was better than holding my breath as I watched him, waiting to make sure his knee didn’t buckle again.

Wisely, Drew waited for me at the top of the stairs and we headed into the basement. I didn’t bother turning on the lights, since part of me hoped that at least one of us would be able to get a bit of sleep. He needed it more than I did, but I couldn’t guarantee exhaustion wouldn’t get the better of me.

I helped Drew get comfortable at one end of the couch and pressed my body up against the opposite arm, putting as much space between us as I could. My dick was still threatening to spring to life every time I looked at him and no amount of silent pleading did a damn thing to shut it down.

There wasn’t much on in the middle of the night, so I settled on an action flick from the late eighties. The effects were embarrassingly simplistic and the plot nonexistent. That didn’t matter, because it was a fucking classic I’d loved watching when I was in middle school.

“Oh, my God! How can you watch this shit?” Drew laughed at the stilted dialogue. “Seriously, if this is the quality you’re looking for, you might as well turn on some porn. At least then we could both rub one out.”

My mouth gaped open as I stared at Drew. He smiled wickedly, and I knew he’d said that on purpose. One glance toward his waist revealed that at least one part of his body was uninjured and ready to go. It’d be so easy. He wanted this.

“Yeah, that’d be swell,” I scoffed. “Knowing my luck, that’d be the time your mom woke up and started searching the house for you. She’d come down here and scream at me for taking advantage of you.”

Drew shifted closer to me. Every small movement sent a flare of pain across his face, but he was determined. My breathing grew labored as I watched him, trying to find the words to stop him.

“What if I told her that I’m the one taking advantage of you?” His casted arm hit the back of the couch with a soft thud as his other hand slid up my leg. “I want you to show me that I’m not broken. Show me that I can feel something other than pain.”

God, I wanted to be that person for him. I wanted to show him everything he needed and more. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not so soon after the attack when he was on painkillers and likely not making the best decisions.

As much as it killed me to do so, I pushed Drew away before we were incapable of stopping what felt inevitable. I briefly leaned in to kiss a bruise on the side of his face. He needed to know I wasn’t rejecting him, I was simply trying to do the right thing.

“Maybe we should head upstairs,” I told him. I stood and held out my hand to him.

Drew simply shook his head. “I think I’m going to stay down here a bit longer. You go up, I’ll be fine.”

When I looked back as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw a mask of indifference where there’d so recently been lust. I hoped he’d understand that walking away from him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done off the field.

Chapter 7

I felt her presence before I opened my eyes. When I did, my mind took a trip back in time to when I was a teenager and slept in the basement after sneaking in from one of the team’s parties. Even though she was barely over five feet tall, Mom towered over me with her hands on her hips, lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Andrew Joseph, what exactly do you think you’re doing down here?” She lectured me as she began picking up the throw pillows off the floor.

I had no clue how they got there and could barely give her an answer as to how I got to the couch in the media room. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a pair of ratty, faded sweatpants and nothing else. Memories of last night started creeping to the forefront of my mind. Eric waking me when I had a nightmare. Him helping me shower to get the dirt and hospital grime off my body. His body pressing against mine. His hands gliding over my body as he washed me. I quickly covered my lower half with an afghan to keep Mom from seeing my predicament. Then I remembered him walking away from me. Rejecting me. And suddenly there was nothing to hide.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” I admitted. “Eric was up and suggested we come down here so we wouldn’t wake you. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Mom sucked in a sharp, disapproving breath. “That’s probably because you were worn out and had no business traipsing all over the house. Now, let’s get you back to your bed.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” I snapped. She retreated, her shoulders slumped forward. I hated when she did that. It was as though she took my declaration as a personal affront. It wasn’t, I just needed my space. I reached out to her and draped my good arm over her shoulders as I kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“You always were a stubborn, grouchy ass when you didn’t feel well.” Mom sighed, and I knew we’d get past this. Or at least I hoped we would, but she’d need to see that I wasn’t completely dependent on anyone, even with cracked ribs and a broken arm. “I know you think I’m a pain in your backside, but that’s only because I worry about you. You might be a grown man and a hot-shot athlete now, but a mother never stops worrying about her baby boy.”

“Yes Mom,” I grumbled. “But please don’t call me your baby boy in front of the guys. They’ll use that against me for the rest of my career.”

“Okay sweetie,” she promised as she reached up to pat my cheek. “Now, let’s get you upstairs. Eric was up before your father and I and he’s making breakfast.”

Eric never cooked. Or at least he hadn’t in the week since he’d gotten home. I couldn’t remember if he had last winter or not, but then again I wasn’t around as much since I’d gone home to help my parents. They needed my help, whether they’d admit it or not. I glared at the stupid fucking cast on my arm, knowing that I’d be worthless to them for a while.

When we got upstairs, Eric poured me a cup of coffee and dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into the mug before handing it to me. My stomach did this stupid little flip thing over the knowledge that he knew how I liked my coffee. Most of the guys thought it was disgusting, but I didn’t drink the shit because it tasted good. I’d had my first cup when I was eight and I’d needed the sugar to make it palatable. Ever since then, I hadn’t seen a need to cut back.

“Thanks,” I said as I eased myself onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. My mom said something about leaving the two of us alone while she got dressed for the day. It wasn’t necessary, but I figured it was her way of trying to let me know she wasn’t going to be up my ass the whole time they were there. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs and bacon. I didn’t want them eating cold cereal and figured you’d want something a bit more substantial as well,” he informed me. Again, I was touched by Eric’s thoughtfulness.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way,” I reminded him. This was his house and he was already doing enough just by opening the doors to my family. I didn’t want him thinking it was his job to cater to us as well.

“It’s not a problem. Really.” He offered me a quick smile before turning back to the stove. “By the way, Mason and Sean are coming over in a bit. I thought about telling them to hold off, but then I figured Asher might be a good distraction for your mother.”

Babies were always the perfect distraction for a woman who felt an obsessive need to care for others. It’d even be worth listening to whatever bad jokes Mason wanted to tell, just to have her otherwise occupied for a while. “Thanks for the heads up. I’m going to go get dressed.”

“Holler if you need me,” Eric offered without taking his attention off breakfast. That was the type of help I wanted to have around. He knew enough to tell me he was there if I needed him, but didn’t offer to follow me down the hall and pick out my outfit for the day.

I groaned when I walked into my bedroom and found the bed made and an outfit laying at the foot. So much for Mom backing off a bit. I sat down gingerly, feeling every single scrape, bruise, and cracked bone in my body since I hadn’t had any pain pills this morning. If the pain became unbearable I’d take something, but I wanted to hold off as long as possible.

I struggled to get my arms into the button down shirt and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. After about a minute of fumbling, I called out for Eric because I wasn’t getting anywhere with the buttons.

Eric leaned against the door frame, watching me as I continued my battle with the shirt. “Are you going to help me or stand there laughing?”

“I don’t know, this is somewhat amusing to watch,” he admitted as he crossed the room. I turned to face him and closed my eyes as the backs of his fingers brushed across my chest. Until yesterday, I honestly hadn’t thought about Eric as anything more than a roommate, possibly a friend, but now that Jason had planted a seed in my head, it seemed to be all I could think about. Last night sure as fuck wasn’t helping.

As Eric dressed me, my mind floated back to last night, remembering how it felt when he undressed me and helped me get cleaned up. Yes, I’d been embarrassed that I needed his help, but having him so close to me, catching the faintest whiff of his cologne as he steadied me had me wishing I wasn’t injured for other reasons. I wanted to be whole, to shove him down onto my bed and suck his cock to the back of my throat.

Once he finished buttoning my shirt, he turned his attention to the sleeve that was stretched over my cast. My chest ached because I knew deep down that he was only trying to be helpful. His actions weren’t because he wanted to fuck me, they were fueled by his desire to be a good human being. I swallowed around the lump in my throat before muttering a quick thanks.

“Like I’ve said every other time, it’s not a problem. You’d do the same for me if roles were reversed.” That was true, but I bet he wouldn’t be standing here getting hard if I was helping him. He took a step back and looked over my appearance. For a moment, I could’ve sworn his eyes lingered over my jeans. My cheeks flushed as I turned away. Eric cleared his throat. “You look good.”

The floors were cold since I was walking around barefoot, but I couldn’t cave and ask Eric to get me a pair of socks out of the drawer and help me pull them on. I made a mental note to send Mom out to get me some slippers later. It’d get her out of the house for a while if nothing else. Giving her busy work seemed the best plan of attack to keep from losing my mind. It turned out that I didn’t need to ask Eric because he quickly figured out what was making me shuffle from one foot to the other.

Eric led me to the bed and gently pushed on my shoulders until I took the not-so-subtle hint. Although there was nothing to hide, I felt uncomfortably exposed as I watched him open the top drawer of my dresser. He knelt between my legs when he returned and carefully lifted one foot off the cold floor. “Look, I know this is tough for you, but you need to be willing to ask for help when you need it,” he scolded me.

“I know,” I sulked. “I guess I just don’t want you getting sick of having to do shit for me. After all, I’m just the kid who needed a place to stay when I first moved to town.”

Eric’s leaned back on his heels and looked up at me with sad, wide eyes. “Do you really think that’s all you are?” he asked as he ran his hands down my calves. By the way he watched me, waiting for me to say something in response, I wasn’t sure he even knew what he was doing.

“Uh, yeah,” I responded sarcastically. “Probably because it’s the truth.”

Eric curled his fingers around the footboard to pull himself closer to me. His hands finally came to rest on my hips. He was so close, too close. “If we’d been having this conversation a year ago, then yeah, you would’ve been that kid. But now, I’d like to think we’re friends at the very least,” he admitted. “Although, I’ve got to tell you, helping a friend has never been as hard on me as it was last night.”

My dick twitched and I wondered if he felt the same spark of attraction I’d felt. I reached out and cupped his cheek when he smiled up at me. I ran my hand over the stubble on his jaw, inhaling deeply because I fucking loved the way he smelled. “Yeah, we’re friends,” I assured him. I bit my tongue to keep from asking him why he’d pushed me away if he felt the same as I did. “Then again, I don’t make a habit of asking my friends to help me out in the shower, and I can’t guarantee you I won’t be yelling for you every night.”

“Fuck,” Eric groaned. “Well, then you should know I’m only human. There’s no way I can promise you that I’ll be able to keep my hands from exploring if I’m going to be forced to clean you every night.”

I glanced over to the door, praying no one walked in. It felt as though we’d reached some sort of turning point, and I wanted to see where this conversation led. We could never be everything to one another, but we sure as hell could see how much sex we could have between now and February. “That’s fine by me,” I promised Eric. “As long as you don’t plan on wearing your shorts every night.”

I spread my legs further as I inched toward the end of the bed. Eric looked down and noticed the way my cock was trying to break the zipper on my jeans.

“I want you, Eric.” I was so hard, I didn’t give a shit if I had to beg him. I wanted him to be the one to give me what I needed. “Please. I’m not asking you because my head’s fucked up from the drugs. I’m not asking you out of desperation because of what happened to me. I’ve wanted you for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He quirked an eyebrow and I nodded, biting my lower lip to keep from begging him to do something. The muscles in my stomach tensed as Eric popped the button.

“Lay back,” he suggested as he ran his hand from my waist up to my shoulder, easing me down to the mattress. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but the position sent sharp, almost nauseating pain through my torso, so I laid back and allowed myself to simply feel what Eric was doing to my body. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The compassion was touching, but I was going out of my mind. His concern was touching, but I needed this. I needed him to be the one person who didn’t act as though I was fragile. “Eric, if you don’t shut the fuck up and do something, I’m going to shut you up,” I warned him. He chuckled as he muttered something about me being a moody bastard. My hips bucked off the bed as Eric’s calloused hand wrapped around my length.

“Is that better?” he asked teasingly. I groaned, then bit back a moan when the pointed tip of Eric’s tongue dipped into my slit.

“Fuck yes,” I ground out, trying to keep from writhing in pleasure when he sucked my tip into his mouth. “God, don’t stop.”

Eric tugged at the waistband of my jeans and I lifted enough for him to pull them lower on my hips. His fingernails dug into my skin and I smiled at the idea of having marks on my body from something other than getting the shit kicked out of me. I felt his plump lips wrap around me again and it was impossible to resist the urge to thrust into his mouth. He groaned around me as he took me to the back of his throat then swallowed.

There was nothing sweet or intimate about the way I fucked his mouth. Eric took everything I gave him and dug his fingers into my ass as if begging me to give him even more. A sheen of sweat coated my body, and I fisted the sheets as I felt his middle finger shove between my ass cheeks. He taunted my hole, never breaching my entrance as he sucked my cock hard and fast.

Even if I’d have wanted to, there was no way I could stop my orgasm as it crashed through my body. I tried to push Eric away, but he sucked harder and faster, swallowing every drop of my cum. By the time he stood up and moved onto the bed next to me, both of us were struggling to catch our breath. I ran the tip of my index finger over his swollen lips and my eyes rolled back in my head as he sucked that into his mouth as well.

“God, I’d have thought you’d have gotten enough already,” I teased.

“I’m just getting started,” he quipped after releasing my finger. “Fuck, if I’d have known you wouldn’t get pissed, I’d have done this a long time ago.”


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