Page 89 of For the Fans
“No pet names,” he snarls, though his hands are now on my ass and he’s holding me to him, helping my hips thrust into his. “I’m not yourboyfriend.”
“Yea, no shit. You’re not my type,” I murmur, using my free hand to reach up underneath his shirt and feel his smooth, warm skin. “This is for the fans, right?”
He nods again. “For the fans.” Moaning softly, he whispers, “Suck on my ear.”
A slightly triumphant smirk tugs at my lips while I move them up to his ear. “Say please.”
“Please,” he begs through gritted teeth, like he wishes he didn’t have to submit to me, but it feels too good for him to care all the way.
Flicking his lobe with my tongue, I suck it between my lips, toying with him until he’s trembling and squirming.
“Do I do it better than her…?” My hips ripple into his, both of our dicks straining against our pants, all thick and solid andachingfor more contact.
“Fuck off…Avi.” He gasps my name, head tipped back on the door. “Mmm… ohhfuck…”
He’s tightening all over, and I feel like it means he might come, which draws my balls up so tight they’re about to rupture. Moving my mouth back to his, I kiss him rough, rubbing our cocks together with so much friction it’s like we’re trying to start a fire.
“You feel so fucking good…” I tell him, and he whimpers.
“I don’t wanna come in my pants…” he whines hoarsely, but I can tell part of him doesn’t care. Just like the bigger, more insistent part of me doesn’t care one bit if I coat the inside of my Calvins with cum right now.
Still, I hum onto his lips, “You want me to take it out?” He nods fast while my hand falls to his cock between us. “You want me to catch your hot load in my mouth?”
“Ffuck… Avi…” He fingers dig into me through my clothes.
“I think it’s too late.” I suck the words onto his puffy lips. “Comefor me, baby.”
“I’m not your—fuuuck. Fuck yes, oh God, Avi, I’mcoming.”
Kyran’s body shudders, his hands flying up into my hair to hold me in place while he cries quietly into my mouth. My hand squeezes and grips his big dick though his pants, stroking out his orgasm while I grind my own into his hip.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come in my pants for you, Ky…” Before the words even flee my lips into his, pulses of cum are shooting all over the inside of my boxers, drenching my pelvis in slickness.
“What…the fuck…” Kyran crumples between me and the door, holding up his body weight by clutching onto me while we both quiver and suck all the air out of the small room.
We’re just standing, more like leaning, on each other, and the door, for many generous seconds, catching our breath and coming down from the withering high of what just happened.
What the fuckdidjust happen??
We made out and dry-humped each other silly, that’s what happened.
Kyran’s hands slide off of me, and he tries to stand up straight, wobbling as he does. I straighten myself and pull away, but not without first pressing a soft kiss on his bottom lip.
And when I stand back, he looks shocked, severely rumpled, sated, and horrified.
Mostly good things, I suppose.
Ending the recording on my phone—I’m not even surewhatI just recorded—I can’t help but smirk to myself.I knew he came in his pants that night because of me. I win.
“That was…” he starts.
And I blurt out, “Awesome?”
“Idiotic,” he corrects me, pushing his hair back with his fingers and going for some toilet paper.
“Baby wipes.” I nod at the basket by the sink, and he grabs them.
“Good looks.”
