Page 50 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories

His taste explodes on my tongue, invading and potent. I whimper around his fingers while he strokes my tongue, and when he growls out, “Suck,” I come instantly.

My cock fires off in angry bursts, my thighs quiver, and my lungs seize. I clean his fingers, emptying a year's worth of longing, pain, and cum into his ass. He flattens down, grabs my face, and sucks my lips. He always wants a taste of the mess he makes.

Tears burn my eyes because this is us.

This is fuckingus.

I wrap my arms around him, filling him until my balls empty. “I missed you so bad it feels like I’m dying,” he admits against my mouth, his kisses urgent and sloppy.He holds either side of my neck, stealing the very air from my lips.

I moan, and he swallows it. His cum and my spit coats our lips while our emotions turn reckless. “Still my needy baby,” I tell him, coiling his hair in my fist. “Still mine. All mine.”

“Tell me he didn’t give you this,” he begs, kissing me harder. “Tell me it was nothing.”

“It wasn’t fuckinganything.”

He shivers, needing something else from me, but I don’t know what. He’s frantic with my mouth, bruising our faces with his savagery. Moisture hits my cheeks, my cock is still in his ass, cum spilling out around it, and he’s crying while kissing me. “What do you need?” I ask, wiping his eyes and pulling his face up a few inches.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop kissing you. Please don’t make me stop because I can't. Fuck. I need this. I needyou.”

“Come here,” I growl and seal us back together.

Phoenix

Spit It Out

Eli is smoking out on the balcony.

It’s not the Arctic like in other parts of the country, but it’s still chilly for Los Angeles in December. Low 60s at least. He shouldn’t be smoking, not with his stomach all jacked up. Even as I think about it, I take a pull on my vape and look down at the text I sent Jorge a few minutes ago.

I fucked him.

My phone buzzes with his incoming text.

And how do you feel?

Why did you give him my address?

Avoiding the question isn’t going to help.

And because he was in a rough spot. Apparently, his aunt won’t leave his house. She’s an alcoholic.

He toldJorgethat?

I glare at the back of Eli’s head as he stares blankly. We kissed until we physically couldn’t anymore, then we cuddled and napped for a few hours. We showered after that, then I sucked him off in the shower because I needed to taste him. I’m reeling over the fact he told Jorge but not me. Why won’t he talk to me?

I don’t know if I was supposed to not tell you that, but oh well. I knew you wouldn’t turn him away.

Isn’t this the exact thing you told me not to do after we broke up?

Shrug emoji

Unhelpful. Truly.

So, how do you feel now that you’ve touched each other’s buttholes?

We didn’t “touch each other’s buttholes” dickhead.

Welllllllll

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