Page 57 of Full Split
A little after eight that night, I tell my mom goodnight.
I’m dressed casually in skinny jeans, a loose tank, and my favorite flannel tied around my waist. Just enough to look like I’m going out. When Mom asks, I tell her I’m just going to go hang out with some friends and that I might crash overnight.
She nods, tells me to stay safe. Reminds me she’ll be home late tomorrow because there’s a company dinner after work.
Perfect.
I leave my car in the driveway. Most of the time I call a rideshare or get someone to pick me up if I can, so it’s not suspicious that I don’t take it. And it’s only a short walk to Wyatt’s house.
Even though I’ve got a key, I knock.
When he opens the door, he’s in pajama pants, barefoot, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He’s not wearing a shirt, and it looks like he might have recently gotten out of the shower.
I almost purr.The way I want to nuzzle myself into his chest hair and hump his leg, I might as well be a cat.Do cats hump legs?
“Do you always answer the door looking like a slut?”
He grunts around the toothbrush. “Normally I ignore the door. But since someone wasn’t answering their texts…”
I smirk. The moment I got his message that Weston went home with Aimee after the party, I started walking this way.
As soon as the door closes, I start stripping.
“What, no hello?”
“Hello. Get naked.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
In case he needed more persuading, I walk over to him and reach into the front of his pajama pants, grab his dick, and use it like a leash to guide him to his own bedroom.
“Jesus Christ.”
When we walk through the threshold, I take the toothbrush from his mouth and toss through the open bathroom door, in the vague direction of the sink because I don’t take my eyes off him. I get impatient with the tie on his pajamas and end up yanking them down. Once I rid him of his pants, I push him back on the bed and then crawl up between his legs. Like earlier today, I take him straight into the back of my throat, but this time I do it so slowly he looks like he might cry.
I suck him in long, slow, firm pulls like I’m drinking a thick milkshake through a thin straw, until he’s painfully rigid and spit is flowing down his shaft and over his balls in rivulets. I follow the stream and tickle my fingers up the cleft of his ass, and he shivers.
“Turn over,” I tell him. He looks wary, but he complies.
His glutes flex when I spread his cheeks apart, and he jumps in surprise at the first pass of my tongue over his hole, but he relaxes into it quickly enough. Before long, he’s gasping and moaning, pushing back on my tongue and rutting into the comforter. I sit up, pressing my thumb against his softened hole.
“Look at that,” I say, only half kidding. I enjoy getting him all flustered, but damn if I’m not enjoying the view. “Such a pretty little hole for such a big man.”
“Niles—”
“Mmmhmm?”
“Do you have to tease me?”
“It’s not a tease, Daddy. I like looking at you. I like looking at your pretty hole getting all hot and soft and ready for me.”
More than his body is ready for me, it seems. When I look up, I notice some of the items we purchased at the sex shop last week are laid out on the night stand, and something else.That’s not the harness we bought.
“What is this?” I ask, moving from the bed to look at what he got.
He reaches for a silicone cock lying next to the harness and hands it to me. It’s warm and soft in my hand, incredibly realistic in detail as well as the feel of it. The skin even moves, and it’s smooth like skin rather than rubbery and hard.
