Page 69 of Missile Tow
“But I’m not like that,” he claimed, sitting back.
“You heard me,” I hissed, leaning forward and pulling him back to his prior location. “Kissing a man ain’t gay anyway. I just want to taste you, boy.”
Tentatively, he leaned forward, closing his eyes. He maintained his innocent role and waited for guidance I was all too happy to provide. Our lips connected, and a jolt of unexpected electricity surged through me. This was intimate as well as exciting. The entire scene had me at a stimulation level I couldn’t remember experiencing.
Of course, I knew it was Van, but he’d been correct. Role-playing was a surprise,andspicy as fuck. I crashed onto his lips, probing my tongue past them. After a few moments, acting like he’d discovered something new and exciting, he gave in and fully participated.
Our mouths collided with passion. I positioned his body against me, squeezing his neck menacingly while keeping him firmly in an embrace of power and strength. He melted and became pliable as I led the way, him whimpering like a lost soul who’d found redemption. We both reached a degree of excitement I hadn’t expected.
I abruptly pushed him away. “You lied, didn’t ya, boy.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I bet you pay all your bills this way. Dontcha?” I mocked. “Look at you, trading your cock suckin’ skills for services.”
He eyed me sheepishly, a slight grin developing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right, mister mechanic sir.”
“I fuckin’ knew it,” I barked, forcing his head onto my cock. “Drain my dick, you little cocktease.”
He resisted. “I think I might need a new engine for my truck next week,” he said, his voice muffled as my cock slid into his open mouth.
I wanted to bust out laughing, but I also had a cock I wanted sucked, so there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d ruin the scene. “Ya do, do ya? It’ll take a piece of that fine ass for that sorta work, boy.”
I had a hunch the idea of me fucking him on the bench had him on edge. He had my cock down his throat in a flash, and reached for my hands, signaling he wanted me to hold the sides of his head and facefuck him to orgasm.
I’d had exactly one sex partner prior to meeting Van, and he’d been a good lover for sure, but the level of communication Van and I’d shared after less than two weeks boded well for a future of incredible lovemaking.
I lifted my butt off the bench, pumping into his waiting mouth. His hands moved under my ass cheeks and lifted me toward him, gripping my taut ass while keeping me down his throat.
“Fuuuccckkk,” I groaned. “So fuckin’ good, boy. Don’t you fuckin’ stop.” Without warning, Van moved a finger to my asshole and pressed against my pucker. “Holy fuck!”
My body arched from the bench, my feet supporting my lift off. Van pushed harder on my hole while I focused on the insanepleasure coursing through me. The desire to hold off a second longer and prolong the rush was impossible.
“Get ready, boy,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Get the fuck ready!”
My body tensed tighter than a victim of rigor mortis. While he slobbered and coughed, I maneuvered his head to locate my perfect release point, but kept pace with my hips as I thrust upward.
“Oh,yessss,” I gasped. “Oh, fuck… oh fuck!”
My orgasm blasted forth, sending shudders through me as I fought to squeeze every last drop out of my balls. Van came off my cock after I spilled, and I twisted around, collapsing backward on the bench, gasping for oxygen.
I sensed him standing up. My eyes were closed as my breathing regulated and I came down from my orgasmic high. The entire experience was quite possibly the wildest sex I’d had. The crazy part? The role-play encounter was only a blow job.
I slowly opened my eyes and found Van looking at me, a grin on his face. Suggestively, and with a bit of sass, he dragged his thumb and middle finger down the corners of his mouth.
“Consider the bill paid, mister.”
He put his sweatshirt on and walked out of the restroom without so much as a peep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Van
“Damn!” Chip exclaimed, coming up behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “And he cooks too, folks,” he added, pinching my ass.
“Not well,” I admitted.
“Smells frickin’ amazing, baby.”
He spun me around and pulled me close. The two of us were in no hurry to break the connection. These excuses to touch and hold each other were common between us. No words had to be spoken while we absorbed whatever we needed from the other. I’d told him yesterday he was my recharging station.
