Page 89 of Catching Kyle
Again, I feel that bubbling in my chest, like there’s something I need to say to bring Michael closer to me. Closer than before. I lift my leg to get a better angle, to go deeper. Michael, facing my foot, grabs it and pulls it to his face. He attacks it with his lips and tongue, flashing me the most seductive side-eye. I thrust somehow harder and faster than before, watching him go feral for my huge foot. Needing more balance, I press my foot against his face and pound him harder. He whimpers in delight.
I feel myself getting close, but there’s that bubbling in my chest again. I need him closer. Closer.
I retract my foot and pull out.
“On your back,” I say. “Now.”
He flips over and pulls his legs back, presenting his gorgeous pink hole to me. Feeling out of breath, and like Michael is my air, I put myself back inside him, sighing with relief.
He wraps his legs around my back, pulling me onto him. My hands on either side of his head, I hold myself over him and continue to thrust.
I’m so close, but I don’t want to cum yet. I can’t. I feel like I need to do or say something, like it’s something I’ve forgotten. That’s what the bubbling in my chest is. But I don’t know.
A drop of sweat falls from my beard onto his face. He wipes it with his finger and then sucks on it, groaning as his eyes roll back.
I pound him harder, nearly ripping the couch apart. “You fucking slut,” I say. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
That’s when he reaches his hands up, strokes my sweaty chest down my belly, then wipes his face with it. He does the same with my armpits, and I think I’m gonna go crazy.
I think Michael loves me. He’s patient with me. He listens to me. And he accepts the parts of me that aren’t great, like how I can’t communicate well. And here he is, still covering himself with my nasty sweat like he can’t get enough.
“You’re gonna stroke yourself,” I say. “And I’m gonna watch you cum.”
He nods. He picks up one of my hands and places it on his cheek. Then he sticks my thumb in his mouth and sucks it like it’s my cock.
“Fuck,” I say. His legs falter a bit, and I command him to keep them wrapped around me. He holds me against him, almost not letting me pull out, and my dick throbs. I know I’m past my point of no return.
He uses his other hand to wipe down my sweaty chest, then reaches down to stroke himself, using my sweat as lube. God, that’s fucking hot.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say, keeping a fast, steady rhythm. “Cum for me.”
He stares into my eyes, his face contorted in desperation, ecstasy, as he slurps on my thumb. In all the videos I’ve seen him get fucked, he’s never looked this happy. My chest bubbles more than ever with something, something I need to say. But it’s still unclear.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” he says.
And those words set me off. As white hot semen shoots out of him all the way up to his neck, I release into him as well. I roar like a bear, flooding his gorgeous ass with my load. The pleasure lasts three seconds, five, ten—so long that my body convulses, and I have to close my eyes and brace myself against the couch so I don’t collapse and crush Michael.
When I open them, I look down and find Michael staring up at me in wonderment. And suddenly, my orgasm clearing my mind of confusion, the source of the feeling in my chest becomes crystal clear.
I slowly lean down, and caress Michael, kissing him wildly, our hairy bodies glued together with his cum and our sweat.
“Please, don’t pull out,” he says. “I want to stay like this forever.”
I pull away to look into his eyes and laugh. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nuzzles into my sweaty neck, gently kissing my pec, and I have both arms wrapped around him.
“Michael,” I say.
He comes out of his burrow and looks at me.
“I think I…” The bubbling in my chest returns, momentarily scaring me, but then I realize I’m fine. It’s actually giving me confirmation about how I feel.
“What?” he asks.
I kiss him on the nose, then pull away. And I’m ready to say it.
“I love you,” I say.
