Page 59 of Open Water

I licked lines over his stomach. Kissed the little patterns on his skin. Laid my cheek against his heartbeat before my knees moved further down, and my body started to slide off the bed.

I should have thought it all through, but I suppose I was quite happily just hoping to get him off, kneeling on whatever rubbish my knee had landed on, and there was a fucking pack of socks that I kicked to the side, so I could get comfortable. Then, I grabbed his hips and pulled him down towards me. One swift movement that made him whoop in surprise. Smiling as he dragged a pillow down and put it under his head. His eyes on mine. Kind of saying,come on then. Give me your best.

Which gave me performance anxiety big time. Fuck.

* * *

“Can you kind of not look?” I squeal out.

“Not look when I am about to get the first blowjob of my pathetic 17 ½ year-old life? Of course, I want to look.” He smiles back. The fucker.

I kind of scramble back up on the bed, grabbing a pillow which I shove over his head.

“Don’t look. Just let me get the hang of it first.” I sound like my Dad. Like I’m about to give him a rectal exam with the bottle-of-shame that I have conveniently hidden in the drawer under the bed.

He mumbles something from under the pillow, and his stomach is jerking so he is obviously fitting with giggles up there, but at least it’s just me and his cock down here.

He’s rock hard. A pearl of liquid seeping at the top. And then there is me, just staring at it. Like I’m expected to introduce myself or something. Yo! Matteo’s cock! Fancy meeting my mouth?

I kind of grimace and my face is flushed with embarrassment. I should never have done this.

“Just do it. Don’t think about it, because I will fucking come the minute you go anywhere near him.” Matteo pants from further up the bed.

“It’s a him then?” I tease. Because I’m shit scared. Because, I’m the most pathetic boyfriend in the world. “Does he have a name?”

“Mr Big?” Matteo chuckles out. “No, no. Honestly, he hasn't got a name. I’m just taking the piss, Pumpkin. Come on. Just do something before I freak out and jerk myself off right in front of you.”

“That might be hot,” I squeal and tug at myself. Because Matteo talking dirty is kind of hot. Major hot.

“Come on, Pumpkin, I’m dying here,” he whines, and I am actually dying myself. Fuck. I’m the worst gay human being on the planet. I have the most perfect cock in front of me, which should make my mouth water, but instead, my throat is constricting with fear.

So, I kind of hide my face in his groin. Bury my nose in his pubes which is like… Fuck! Heavenly. He smells completely different down here. Strong and masculine and my cock twitches again. Coarse hair against my cheek. His hardness bouncing against the tip of my nose as I find myself kissing his ball. Testicle. Against my lips. And okay. This is cool. This is actually damn fine.

My tongue seems to find its own way as I lick him. Paint lines up and down his dick, feeling him jerk around beneath me and he kicks out with his legs to the point that I have to grip his hips and hold him down before my eyes get poked out by that weapon of mass destruction between his legs.

Because now he is leaking all over the place. Clear fluid trailing down the side of his dick that I reach out and taste. Just on the tip of my tongue, but damn.

Cock is obviously like crack. Like, why the whole world is not into cock is now beneath me, because he tastes like nothing else. Salty and sweet and a little bitter, and there it is. I am now lapping at his slit whilst he is talking a load of dirty shit up where his head is. Not that I care, because now his cock is kind of in my mouth. I’m sucking on it. On his cock! Well, at the head of it as my hands are trying to keep his hips in place and my head is bobbing up and down, twisting around trying to get my tongue to reach every part of him. The flavour of him increasing every time I come off, letting a little drool land back on his skin.

He’s nice and wet and my hand grabs him at the base and I nuzzle back into his balls and Matteo protests loudly up there, something along the lines of, “get it back in your mouth.” Along with some choice words. Damn. My boyfriend can talk.

My boyfriend. Fuck him. He’s amazing. Oh fuck, just look at him. His eyes squeezed shut, his face is all scrunched up and there we go. More words. Head rolling from side to side. His hair all sweaty at his temples and I don’t know what is turning me on more, the fact that I am driving him crazy with my cock-sucking skills (Yup. I think I might have skills) or that I have his cock back on my tongue, the weight of it making me a little dizzy.

He starts panting out that he’s about to shoot, tugging at my hair, trying to get me off him. Which, of course, I won’t let him, because I’m all in on this now. If I’m doing this, I’m damn well doing it properly. Which means that Ismile smugger than a pirate with a trunk of booty (well as much as I can smile with a mouthful of cock) as he pretty much arches his whole body off the bed and starts to shoot warm saltiness down my throat.

Now this is the part when I swallow like a pro, licking my lips and looking all hot and seductive like those blokes in porn. Except that this is real life and my boyfriend’s cock is fucking big and my mouth is probably not made for porn, because of course, I choke on it and get a freaking coughing fit, sputtering spunk all over his stomach as I gasp for breath, and my eyes are streaming and I think I just sank a load of his spunk down my airways, because I’m fucking dying here. And Matteo is absolutely pissing himself with laughter.

“Oh my God, Pumpkin!” he squeals. “Oh Jaysus F Christ. Are you alright?”

His hands are holding my face. Fingers trying to wipe my eyes and he is planting crazy-arse kisses all over my face. No doubt getting a mouthful of his own jizz in the process. I mean, this. I’m fucked. Forget skills, because I obviously have none.

“Pumpkin,” he says, trying to look all stern and serious whilst kind of crying with laughter. “You just blew more than my dick, babes. I mean, I knew you were sexy as hell, but that? Fucking lord have mercy and all that, If you think I am just gonna be your boyfriend after that, you are seriously mistaken. You can do that to me anytime. Just say the word and I will drop my pants. I mean it. I’m marrying you, straight up. If that’s how you suck someone off, then I am putting a ring on it right now. You are never doing that to anyone else.”

“Breathe, baby.” I have to stop him. He hasn’t taken a single breath for the last minute. Too much talking when I can barely breathe myself.

“Breathing,” he confirms and takes another deep breath for show. “You’re not panicking, are you? You okay? My future husband and king-of-blowjobs?”

“The king-of-blowjobs just choked on your dick, thanks. But I’m good. Practice makes perfect,” I kind of croak out in between the giggling, because he’s not covering himself up. He’s just sitting there, stark naked, laughing at me and I’m kind of drinking him in. Trying to memorise this, the shape of his abs. How his biceps form a nice little curve into his elbow. The muscles on his stomach, where the skin just sags a tiny bit as he leans forward.

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