Page 34 of Misconduct Zone

“I’ll give you whatever you want.” He wiggles his ass.

“So impatient.” I tsk at him. “Open.” I shove two fingers in his mouth and gently kick his legs apart so I don’t hurt his ankles with my shoe.

I drop, spreading his ass cheeks, then tilt my head to kiss his hole. “So pretty. Did you get yourself ready for me?” He nods. “Needy too,” Icoo.

My tongue flicks out, and his moan echoes in the shower. My erection leaps like it’s trying to get inside him. I kiss and lick his rim until he unclenches and his arms sag against the wall.

“You are doing so well. You make me proud,” I praise, knowing he loves it. His audible breaths spur my tongue to press into him and fuck his hole, tasting his glorious muskiness.

He slaps the wall and tries to suppress his yip. “So good. Please don’t stop.”

“I am not stopping until you paint the wall with your cum.” The locker room shower tiles dig into my knees, but I ignore the twinge.

“You don’t want it?”

This man might kill me. “You will do what I say,” I demand, but if he wants me to drink his cum, I will absolutely do it.

My thumbs massage his rim, stretching it from each side. I spit and he swears.

“I’ve seen that in videos and had no idea it would be so orgasmic. That was close.”

My lips kiss his ass cheeks until his muscles loosen. He wouldn’t have come, but I’ll let him barrel up to the edge. Before my tongue returns to his hole, I spit on my index finger. They work in tandem, and Dylon pushes back, silently begging for more.

He exhales and pushes out, allowing my finger inside up to the second knuckle.

“More,” he grunts as I hold one hip so he cannot force himself on me.

I add more spit, determined not to hurt him, and my finger slides all the way in. His forehead bangs on the tile.

“Be good,” I admonish, but my pulse races with his lust. “Do you want another finger?” He nods. “I need your words.”

“Please, please.” It takes all my self-control not to shove into him. My dick weeps in my pants, eager to be included.

With more patience and spit, I insert two fingers and release his hip so he can take what he needs. I would draw this out, but we’ve been in here too long.

“Mykäraste, do not come yet, but this is what you have been asking for.” I stroke his prostate and his back arches, letting out a string of swear words as heclenches beautifully and his balls draw up. To obey his request, I remove my fingers.

An angry sound reverberates around us.

“Face me if you want me to swallow your cum.” He spins, and his dick slaps my face.

“Sorry, not sorry.” Dylon tries to shove his cock between my lips, but I turn my head to the side and soak my fingers with saliva. “Are those the fingers that were in my ass?” When I smile, he chokes. “So fucking hot.”

I reach around and plunge back into him as I take his cock to the back of my throat. His uncoordinated thrusts cannot decide if my fingers or mouth will trigger his orgasm.

With a hand on his ass to propel him forward, I pet his prostate and swallow. I wish I had two mouths so I could consume his sounds as well. To prevent him from hitting the shower floor, I clutch his legs.

His breath saws in and out, and he babbles nonstop about how it’s insanely good. “Promise me you’ll fuck me. Promise.” His hazel eyes are brighter than the northern lights and more spectacular. They glaze over, signaling his climax.

Dylon’s load unleashes down my throat, and I pull back so it hits my tastebuds. I want every salty drop. His knees bend, and I maneuver one onto my shoulder to support his weight.

Our eyes remain locked, and his emotion pours into me, filling me fuller than his cum.

He blinks and glances around as if only now realizing where we are. “Bet that’s a first for this place,” he jokes.

“I doubt it. Bathhouses and showers are a staple in the gay community.” I run my hands up his thighs, testing their sturdiness.

His eyes narrow. “Have you—”

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