Page 94 of Puck Your Feelings
"Start with your tongue," he whispers, voice husky.
I follow his direction, circling the head with my tongue, tasting the salt-bitter pre-cum that beads at the tip. Becker's thighs tremble on either side of me.
"Yeah. Like that."
Emboldened, I continue exploring, tracing veins, discovering what makes his breath catch.
"Now take me in," he says. "Not too deep at first."
I part my lips, taking him into my mouth, careful not to go too far. The weight of him on my tongue, the stretch of my lips around his girth—it's foreign. Strange. But so fucking intoxicating. I hollow my cheeks, sucking experimentally.
"God," Becker groans, fingers all but digging into my scalp. "You're good at this."
The praise sends a jolt straight to my groin. I moan around him, which only makes him curse again, hips jerking up ever so slightly.
"Use your hand too," he pants. "Stroke what you can't fit."
I obey, wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock, working in tandem with my mouth. Finding a rhythm that makes Becker's abs clench and his breathing turn ragged.
I’m so fucking horny it’s becoming impossible to ignore. I reach down with my free hand, palming myself through my boxers, desperate for some relief. Any relief.
But Becker’s observant. "Take it out," he rasps. "Want to see you touch yourself."
A wave of self-consciousness washes over me, but it's quickly drowned by desire. I push my boxers down just enough to release my cock. It's achingly hard, pre-cum smearing the head.
Becker watches through heavy-lidded eyes as I wrap my hand around myself, stroking in time with the bobbing of my head on his cock.
"That's so fucking hot," he breathes. "Watching you get off on sucking me."
His words send another spike of pleasure through me. I moan around him, curses, thrusting shallowly into my mouth.
"Close," he warns, fingers tightening on my skull like he’s trying to grab it. "Gonna come. You don't have to—Fuck."
I just take him deeper, making my intention clear.
I want this. Want to taste him, want to feel him come apart because of me.
Becker's back arches, a strangled sound tearing from his throat as he comes. The first pulse catches me by surprise, but I swallow reflexively, taking everything he gives me, licking and sucking him through it.
Only when he's finished do I pull off, gasping for breath, my own cock still hard and leaking in my hand. I stroke myself faster because I can’t help it, watching Becker's face as he recovers from his high.
"Come on me," he says, reaching down to wrap his hand around mine.
The sight of his fingers, long and skilled intertwined with mine around my cock is almost enough to push me over the edge. Our hands move together, his grip tighter than mine, the rhythm perfect.
"Fuck," I gasp, pressure building at the base of my spine.
My orgasm hits with might of a dozen and my vision blurs, which is unfortunate.
I blink the haze away. I want to see. I want to see everything.
My cock pulsing inside our fists.
Becker’s eyes, heavy-lidded, fixed on the action.
Ropes of cum, shooting out of me, one by one as I come with a broken curse on my lips, landing on Becker’s stomach, his chest, his cock, painting his skin white and claiming him mine.
After that, the world goes quiet.
