Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
He moans and breathes heavily.
“Oh, how can it always feel so damn good?” he asks, and his words make my dick swell.
I grab his hair and tug it back gently.
“You wanted to be dominated, didn’t you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I thrust, and he throws himself back against me, his mouth open as he releases a soft whimper, and I can see by the way he rolls his eyes back how much he’s loving how I feel within him.
I grip his hip with one hand and his face with the other. I pull on his face so he has to turn to me even more.
He offers kisses as I push into him, thrusting and creating a rhythm that Mark matches.
“How you like that?” I ask him.
“Oh my God, Tim. I’m fucking pre-coming already.”
I take him the way he needs to be taken. The way he so desperately wants to be taken. Clinging to his body as he moans with delight, but careful not to be so loud as to catch anyone’s attention. As we get a good workout in, I slide my hand down the sweat that now covers his back.
I enjoy the lines, the dip of his spine, his shoulder muscles. But I know what I really want.
I pull back out and turn him around. He looks disappointed, as though I’ve injured him by not reaching satisfaction.
I bend my legs.
“Arms around my neck,” I instruct. “You know the drill.”
He kicks his shoes off and steps out of his pants and briefs. Then he wraps his arms around my neck, and I wrap mine under his thighs. I pick him up and push him against the wall before maneuvering my cock back inside him.
This is how I want it. I can see his face, tensed up, his eyes rolling back.
I want him so bad. I’ve never needed someone as much as I need Mark.
28
MARK
I know this is wrong.
I shouldn’t like being recorded as much as I do, but it’s always the hottest when it feels wrong. When he knows how to hit all the right places in me, leaving me as vulnerable as I could possibly feel, shaking in pleasure.
He glances up and down my body like he wants to see how every part of me reacts to him fucking me like this.
I whimper as he hits my prostate and that familiar surge of power races through me.
“You keep making that sound,” he says, “and I’m gonna blow my load up in you.”
“I want it.”
He kisses me again. Sloppy kisses. Passionate kisses.
My dick throbs. I want to come. I want to release, but I need to wait for him. I want to please him more than I want to please myself.
My back still pressed up against the wall, he tugs on my hair again, keeping his face next to mine, just breathing on me. He licks across my cheek, and pulls even harder on my hair.
He grunts, and his rhythm becomes frenetic.
“Fuck…fuck…fuck…” his cursing quiets as he makes a final thrust. I know it’s the release. His cock hits my prostate powerfully, and I experience the swelling intensity of my own climax.
I’m so close.
He snatches my cock and rubs until I spill out across my abs, crunched up in this position he’s kept me in.
Excitement sweeps through every nerve in my body.
I tremble in his hold.
He pulls out of me and helps me lower my feet to the floor.
As I descend from the high of our fucking, he kisses and embraces me, holding my body close so his torso rubs against mine, the come sticking to him.
I gaze at the camera—our fake audience. One of the things that makes all this so much fun.
I rest my head against his chest as we lie in my bed together. We’re in my old room that still looks nearly like it did before I left for school.
After we showered, he talked about leaving the mansion, but I wanted to enjoy spending some more time with him, and he didn’t deny me when I asked him to stay the night.
I stroke my fingers up and down his flesh, enjoying the sensation against my fingertips.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers into my ear.
“It’s okay.”
I shift my head, gazing up, and he’s looking down at me, his eyes lit up with the lamplight from my nightstand.
He glances around my room.
“So why didn’t you take any of this shit with you? I mean, I don’t want to dis your place or anything, but…”
“I know. I’m working on getting shit, but I can’t afford anything right now.”
“Your mom wouldn’t let you have any of this?”
“She would more than let me have this. She would furnish the whole damn apartment if it was up to her. But it’s not. It’s up to me.”
“Why not let her?”
“Because I don’t want to live my life like that. Feeling like I always owe them something. I mean, they’re my parents, so obviously I always will. But I don’t want to feel like I rely on them.”