Page 65 of Catching Kyle
Contended, I close my eyes, ready to…
“Hold on,” he says.
I shoot my eyes open. “What’s wrong?”
“We still gotta get you off,” he says.
A smile widens on my face, and my stomach flutters from excitement. “You’re right,” I say. “Are you sure you still want to do it?”
“Now that we trust each other, hell yeah,” he says. “Only think I’ve had my ass eaten once or twice though.”
I widen my eyes. “I’m not the first? Damn.”
“Yeah, it was another player in college,” he says. “But if you eat ass as good as you suck dick, there’s no competition.”
I lick my lips. “Well let’s show you how good I am.”
He grins, sitting up. “How do you want me?”
I lay down flat on the bed, then tap my shoulders. “Face that way,” I say pointing toward his bedroom door. “And don’t literally crush me. But be generous.”
He laughs, and this time I can see his blush. “Alright.” He stretches one leg over me, giving me a perfect view of his hairy ass. One of his ass cheeks is bigger than my head alone, and his thighs are even thicker. Then he lowers himself onto me.
In between his cheeks, I inhale deeply. “Oh my god.”
He pauses. “Are you good?”
“Now I’m literally in heaven,” I say. I take another deep breath, taking in his musk, sending chills down my spine. I used to be ashamed of how much I like ‘dirty’ smells, like ass or armpit. And then I got over myself. Better to spend a life happy than ashamed for no reason. Man smell—especially this man’s smell—arouses me more than anything else.
“You really like that,” he says, relaxing onto my face. “Don’t smell too bad?”
I sniff, then pull away. “It literally couldn’t smell better.”
He chuckles. “Good boy.”
“Yes,” I nearly moan. “Do that.”
“What?” He asks. “Treat you like the little slut you are?”
“Yes,” I say, and I bury myself into his hairy ass. I stick my tongue out, lapping up his perfect manhole. To think this asshole has run across dozens of football fields. And I’m one of the two who’s been able to give it the attention it deserves.
“That’s right,” he says, his huge back arched. “Show me how much you love it, whore.”
I lick harder, faster, wanting to clean up all the sweat he worked up fucking me. My dick throbs, and I’m not even touching it.
He leans back, and I look up his glorious, hairy back.
I pull my mouth free—or as free as I can make it. “Can you flex your arms for me?”
“You mean like this?” He flexes his arms in an L-shape, showing up his thick trunks of arms. His back flexes with it, and I swear he is the finest specimen of man to ever exist.
‘Yes, amazing’ are the only words I can utter.
“You are my little slut,” he says. “All mine.”
I tongue him deep, in gratitude, and reach down to my dick, only gently holding it. I fear if I grip any harder I’ll orgasm, and I want more time to enjoy this.
“I wanna swallow it,” he says, still flexing.
