Page 60 of Catching Kyle
I raise my hand to stroke just above his waist. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”
He looks over me. I’m shirtless, but I still have my pants on. I wanted Michael to take them off.
He meets my eyes and nods.
“Good. And Michael? I’m glad you came back.”
With that, he leans down into the bed and kisses me on the forehead, then my nose. He exhales a warm breath over to my ear, and I have to hold myself from physically convulsing.
“I came back because I think I trust you,” he whispers into my ear. “I want to give us a try.” He pulls away and strokes my hair. “Not just this,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “But us. Dating. A relationship.”
I reach my thumb up and stroke is beard. “That’s what I want too. And thank you.”
“For what?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “For not taking advantage of me last week. I didn’t realize it, but I wasn’t ready to do anything then. It’s very big of you to wait for me.”
He kisses me gently on the lips. “It’s what you deserve,” he says.
Deserve. My hand strokes his hairy chest, the other one his beard. I deserve this. Love. Intimacy. I don’t need to jump through hoops to make it happen with a woman. I can get it right now. With a beautiful and kind man.
And that’s when he falls into me, but I can’t tell who went first: me pulling him down or him falling into me. But it doesn’t matter. I wrap my arms around his strong back and squeeze him against me, our lips melting together. He straddles me, loosening the towel around his waist.
I buck up into him, and his ass presses down against my already rock-hard cock. God, I can’t wait to be in between those cheeks. I’ve seen others grab hold of them while they ride him, but I can’t wait to feel them for myself.
I reach down to his waist to pull off his towel. “May I?” I ask.
But then he grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head.
I look at him, bug-eyed, almost startled. He’s got some strength in him—not more than me, of course. But still.
He settles himself onto my dick, and I can’t help but groan. I need my pants off now.
“There we go,” he says. “You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you?”
I nod, and I try to hold it back, but a whimper comes out. He rubs himself against me again, and I swear I’m going cross-eyed.
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he says, lowering one hand to stroke my hair. His voice is hypnotically low. The only time I’ve heard him talk this way in his videos is when he takes full control.
“You’re gonna fuck me, and then you’re gonna give me a load I know you’ve been saving just for me,” he says. “Understood?”
I nod, warm chills going up and down my body. My stomach is fluttering like it has a horde of butterflies inside. How does he know that I’ve dreamed about this moment for years?
“And then you’re getting me off,” I say.
“God, yes,” I say. I try to wiggle my arms free, but he’s got his whole weight pressed down on them. I could resist, but I don’t want to hurt him.
He lets my hands go, trailing his finger down my arms. He takes his time when he reaches my chest, my stomach. And when I hear the clink of my belt buckle, my throat goes dry.
He rubs his ginger-bearded face against my cock still in my pants like a dog, and I nearly yip like one. Then he pulls open my pants, revealing my spire of pleasure to the room. There’s a shine of precum off the top, reflected by my lamps, and Michael marvels at it.
“God, that’s bigger than I’m used to,” he says, licking his lips. “Fucking pipe for a dick. It’s more perfect than I imagined.”
“Show me you really mean it,” I mutter.
And Lord almighty does he.
And he doesn’t just put his mouth around it and suck it mindlessly. He takes his precious time, as if I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He uses his whole tongue to lick it up and down. He spits on it, both of us watching his saliva drip down, and then he laps it up as if it’s been made divine for having touched my dick. Tired of my pants, he yanks them off and tosses them aside. Then he wraps his hand around the base, engulfs the top half with his beautiful face, and gets to sucking.
