Page 37 of The Silent Night Stalker
I’m a little disappointed that those gorgeous tattoos don’t travel to his thighs, though he has some ink on his back. He may be thinner, smaller, and not as muscular, but he has a stunning body. He tries to take care of it. But fuck, those tattoos… I’m still in awe of the artwork. He’s a walking, talking canvas.
I take his hand and pull him into the glass and stone-tiled shower stall with me. The first thing I fixed up in this house when I bought it was the bathroom. I wanted a large tub to soak in after a long workout, and a shower that was relaxing to be in.
The water is hot and cascades over us as Constantine just stands there with his hands fisted at his side as if he doesn’t know what to do, and I suppose he doesn’t.
“Will you have sex with me now? Can you be inside me?” he blurts.
I grab him, flip him around, and push him against the stone wall. I punch my hips against him so he feels my cock between the crease of his ass. “As much as I would love to be in that virgin hole of yours, no. You’re not ready for that.”
“I am. I use a plug all the time.”
“Holy hell, Con. You’re going to kill me. That’s hot. I’d love to see your ass filled with a plug. But you’re still not ready.”
“Please?”
I step back, and the palm of my hand glides over his wet, bubbly ass, then I graze my finger over his crease, dipping inside until the tip of my finger rolls over his puckered hole, which he clenches shut. His body shudders, and a groan slips out of him. I watch his face closely from the side. His eyes are closed, and his lips are parted.
“You like that, Little Bird?”
“Mhmm…”
“Look at you melting at my very touch. So responsive. So beautiful.”
His eyes pop open to look at me. “Y-you think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“No one’s ever called me that.”
“Then they’re fucking idiots.”
I push my finger harder against his hole, but I don’t penetrate him. His eyes close again as he gets lost in the feeling of someone else touching him there. I remember my first time, fumbling in secrecy, quickly fist pumping our cocks, no time for kisses or touches. At the time, I thought it’d been the best thing ever, but looking back, it was pretty pathetic. Maybe if we hadn’t needed to hide our sexuality, we wouldn’t have had to rush it, and it could’ve been better.
Thisis how it should’ve been.
I move away from him and grab the conditioner. “Don’t move,” I order him.
He does exactly as he’s told, as I knew he would. I pour some conditioner into my hand, cupping a glob in my palm, and lean back into him, my front pressing against his back. Then, I take my hand covered in conditioner and fist his length. The damp air soon fills with my favorite scent of citrusy bergamot and spice.
Constantine cries out. Damn. If only all men were as responsive during sex.
I slowly pump him, gliding easily over his hard, velvety cock.
“Do you like being stroked by me, baby?”
“Yeah…”
“You’re being so goodfor me. So fucking hot.”
I move my hand a little faster and tighter. Constantine curls his fingers into his palms and drops his head, watching me get him off. I swipe my thumb over the flushed head, pulling out a loud groan.
“Oh, god,” he breathes. “That’s… I like watching you touch me.”
I nip his ear and say, “You have such a pretty cock. Sometime soon, I’ll suck it down and swallow your cum. Do you want that?”
“S-so much.”
I thrust my cock against his crease and slide my hand along his length faster. “And one day, I’ll be inside you, fucking you, breeding you, filling you up with so much cum, you’ll think I’ve made you pregnant. That’s what you want, right?”
