Page 52 of Scoring the Player
Claiming?
I rip my lips away. His eyes blink open, and their fierce need has our lips slotting back together.
I rub his erection, and the pull to feel him fill my mouth again has me circling his cock and pumping with long strokes. He grunts against my lips before sucking the bottom one raw. I thumb the pre-cum pooling at his slit, then suck it into my mouth.
He releases my lip to bite his own, and I sink down and lick the underside of his cock to his balls. He falls to his back as I suckle on one before licking across and working the next one into my mouth. I pump him slowly, relishing the shift of him in my mouth on every tug.
My new obsession gleams, and I lick back up his shaft, taking him into my mouth again until the metal hits the back of my throat.
I groan.
Every night…every time I watch him humiliate someone on the court, I’ll think of this fat, jeweled dick waiting to be worshipped.
“Fuck,” he rasps, peeling off my beanie and carding his hand through my curls.
I’ll think of crawling under his sheets as he sleeps and waking him with my tongue, sliding my lips around him until he’s filling my throat, his back arching, like it’s doing right now.
I gurgle, eyes watering.
When it’s wet with fresh sweat after the gym…
I bury my nose in the soft hair lining his base and inhale.
“Blue,” he rasps, fisting the sheets.
When he returns from a road game, back against the door, as my knees kiss the worn spot on the floor...
My thumb presses into his taint as my mouth massages under his head.
He grunts, stiffening, eyelids flattened to narrow slits.
When he’s trying not to be late for practice...
“Ungh. C-coming…fuuck.”
My hand drops to my dick as the first rope of cum coats the roof of my mouth.
The muscles in his thighs swell as I drink him down.
His chest heaves as my lips tighten around him, and my hand flies from my dick to massage his balls.
I swallow every fucking drop, and he shudders, his back falling to the mattress.
He twitches in my mouth, and my eyes roll closed as I lick his slit until the last bead of his release is blessing my tongue. Then he slides from between my lips.
The curve of his dick, the wet metal points pulsing against his skin…My tongue is reaching for one more taste when I’m pulled up his body.
One second, I’m drowning in his eyes, and the next, I’m on my back, being undressed.
Salem
Damn.
I should be brain dead with how hard I just nutted.
He’s even more stunning this close as he makes these soft, feathery sounds and sucks on my tongue.
I love him in jeans and a tee, but him in all-black sweats and a beanie with a single gold chain? Lethal.
