Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
His hard dick flopped out, making a loud slapping sound. He still had his shirt on, but I could see the muscles of his six-pack already showing.
I moved in, licking my lips and making sure I was soaking wet as I sucked Benji into my mouth. Without using hands, I took him between my lips and licked, tasting his salty precome and instantly wanting more. I ran my tongue across his slit, making his body shake underneath me, his head falling back on the couch. His hands came up to grab fistfuls of hair as my tongue swirled around him.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, thrusting his hips upward. He took off his shirt and tossed it to the side, revealing a body of lines and muscles I wanted to spend a lifetime memorizing.
I swallowed more of him down my throat, thankful that my gag reflexes never seemed to develop, because fuck did Benji have a tonsil-tickling-sized cock.
And I fucking loved it.
“That’s it, Rex, fuck, that feels so good.”
It was like tossing a gallon of gasoline into a bonfire. I bobbed up and down on his dick, making sure it was sloppy, making sure I let him know just how fucking bad I wanted him. With one hand I played with his tight balls, and with the other I jerked myself off, feeling pleasure in every sense of the word.
I pulled off his cock and looked up at him, rubbing the head of him across my lips. The drunk grin he gave me only pushed me further. I slapped myself with his dick, hard against my cheek. He bit his lip, the pink skin going momentarily pale. I collected a glob of spit before letting it loose on his rock-hard cock. The foamy white spit rolled off the head, down his shaft.
I rubbed, up and down, the slick sounds of wet skin filling the room. I spit into my other hand and used it to get my dick wet. We both started to grunt, moan, eyes rolling back, balls tightening, chest flushing. I kept jerking us off, keeping a momentum.
Benji’s hands reached out to either side of him on the couch. “Oh God, Rex. Fuck, I’m so close.”
I was too. So close I couldn’t even warn him. I stood up before the wave crashed over me, giving me enough time to spray Benji with my come. It pooled on his chest as I twitched and spasmed, shot after shot.
“Oh fuck, fuck, yesss,” Benji said, his word raising into a guttural grunt as he began shooting his load, adding to the mess of come on his chest and stomach.
It took us a moment for us to catch our breaths.
By then, the world stopped spinning and my body felt spent, every muscle relaxed, as if I’d been pumped with clouds.
“I, um,” Benji said, looking down at the puddles of come dripping down the ridges of his six-pack. “I think I need a towel.”
“No, you’re going to need a whole-ass car wash to get that mess off you.”
Laughter filled the guesthouse as I went to go grab him a towel.
Everything, for the first time in a very long time, began to feel right.
9
Benjamin Gold
Last night made me feel alive again, something I hadn’t really felt in years. Sure, that could sound dramatic to some people, but to me, it was just the simple truth. I hadn’t felt that kind of euphoric rush or brain-melting release of endorphins since the time I’d dated a guy in college who knew how to tie an entire cherry stem army with his tongue.
And the postorgasmic bliss that followed reminded me that the rush wasn’t just from the incredible sex I had, but it was also about who I had it with.
Rex Madison, the one and only. My first crush and my last love. I’d never say that out loud, but I had admitted it to myself long before, on a night I had two entire bottles of red wine.
That’s the night I admitted it to myself: I had fallen in love with Rex underneath the star-blanketed sky of Costa Rica.
I considered staying the rest of the hours left until sunrise. Considered cuddling up with Rex in the bed, going for round two and three and four.
Most of all, I didn’t want the night to end. I didn’t want the emptiness, the gaping numbness, to return. I wanted to keep this bubbly happiness and giddy excitement. I wanted to hold on to the intoxicating arousal, the fire-in-your-chest anticipation. Even the anger turned confusion turned relief at the revelation that Rex had never been the one to send that text message.
I wanted to keep it all, feel it all.
Instead, I turned down his offer of moving to the bed. I toweled off and kissed him again before saying good night and leaving to my bedroom.