Page 80 of Strange Lad

Chuckling, I drop my nuts and say, “I’ll do a fucking handstand if it means I get to come.”

Biting his lip all sexy ‘n shit, he smirks. “On your hands and knees.

Oli

Sugar

Jorge’s flat stomach sucks in at my demand, his brown eyes almost black from how blown his pupils are. He’s being entirely compliant, which I love more than I should.

It’s hovering in my thoughts that he’s never done this before, and I’m asking him to be utterly vulnerable with me.

I just need to see everything, and I need his eyes off me for what I want to do.

He doesn’t hesitate and assumes the position, popping his phenomenal ass out on display. I’ve always thought Jorge was beautiful, but completely bare like he is, I can savor him fully.

All that lean muscle, the soft, little pudge of his lower belly, and hisslightlysmaller-than-average cock. He’s cut and slim, darker than the rest of his skin, with heavy balls and a hairless hole.

I’m enthralled—hypnotized.

He’s everything I imagined he would be and more.

Through his parted legs, I see the weeping tip of his cockhead leaking onto my blanket, marking it. Something primal snaps in my brain as I scoot closer. A choked gasp escapes him, no doubtfeeling the mattress dip under my weight as I reposition on my knees.

“Can I touch you?” I whisper because I want to touch him. That wasn’t my initial plan, but things changed.

I trust he’ll be good and do as I say.

“Fuck yes.”

Chuckling, I drag my palms up his thighs, lifting his cheeks slightly. He moansloudly, head dropping between his shoulders. “When was the last time you touched yourself here?” I brush my thumb over his hole, and he squeaks in surprise, then damn near purrs in pleasure.

“Yesterday,” he admits huskily. “I’m such a slut for it now.”

I shake my head, chuckling. “Don’t move.”

Diving for my nightstand, I pull open the drawer where I keep my lube for the rare occasion I need to jack off, and our eyes meet. Jorge licks his full lips, chest heaving, forearms buckling.

“Here,” I offer it to him.

Taking the lube, he quickly coats his palm and sets the bottle by his knee. Almost like an invitation for it to be used. I take up my earlier spot behind him, my stomach fluttering anew, and finally put him out of his misery. “Stroke your cock, kitten.”

He whimpers and slots his fist over it. “Shit. I’m going to come so fast, babe.”

“Then go slow,” I tell him and knead his asscheeks.

God, they’re so round and thick. Juicy and taut. I can’t seem to think about anything else. I’m keenly aware of the slick sound of him working his dick, shuttling his hand over it quickly. He’s not listening to me.

“Slow,” I remind him and spread his cheeks.

“Ungh,” he grunts, easing up. “My nuts hurt.”

“Do you want me to rub them, kitten?”

Another loud whimper escapes him as he nods frantically, bracing his weight on his left forearm and all but shoving his assin my face. My cock is pressed so tightly against my zipper that I can feel the sealed metal teeth digging into it. Endless sparks explode over my skin, lighting up my nerves and stimulating my primitive brain. I reach between his legs, cup his sac, and gently roll the firm globes within it.

“So full,” I praise, and he moans again, shoving his ass back. Our fingers brush slightly with every downward stroke of his hand. My breath hitches.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers, furiously stroking his cock now.

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