Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
The sound of his voice forces me to freeze. I don’t get off his dick, nope, that’s still lodged deep in my throat. My mouth applies suction to his cock like a baby with his pacifier. My need for his cum outweighing all logic.
My eyes open and I gaze up at the lust-filled intensity in Marley’s eyes. A surge of pride blooms in my chest, knowing I put that look there. He knows it’s not some groupie making him feel good. It’s me. My tongue, my lips, my fucking throat. At this moment, a surge of bravery jolts in my body. There’s no worry about the consequences or the gravity of the moment. I want him to shoot his hot load down my throat. I bring up my free hand to the base of his dick and work it in unison with my mouth. He thrusts his hips and I gag, making more spit dribble down his dick and glide down onto his balls.
“That’s it, like that. Good boy.”
His words of encouragement egg me on. I want to please him. Right now, in this time and space, all I want to be is Marley’s good boy. I push back all the messy possibilities and suck him deep, lavishing his cock with the silky touch of my tongue. Letting him discern how much I want him to coat my throat. To give me every single drop. In return, he forces me down in an aggressive show of possession and lust. Power surges in my being that I am the one making Marley Banks fall to pieces. He’s fucking my mouth like a hedonist, rabid animal.
“Jesus,” he moans as he holds me down and pumps into me, ejaculating his tangy cum deep into my throat.
I lay still, swallowing his load while his cock is still semi-hard in my mouth. We are both frozen, and I’m unsure of what to do. Neither one of us can deny what happened, another step taken that breaches the barriers of our friendship. A friendship that I cannot afford to lose. A friendship that will get muddled and disjointed when sex enters the equation. Do I regret my actions? No, I don’t think so, but I worry about what this misstep in judgment might do to the copasetic foundation of our lives, both professionally and personally. I lift off of him and gaze at the blissfully satiated post-ejaculation grin on his face.
“Sorry, man. I think I’m still tripping off Molly.”
Marley says nothing. He stares at me with those fuckin’ gray eyes. God, his eyes are so beautiful, at first you think they are blue but then you see the color of clouds and the adorning flecks of gold. I should tell him how I feel, but I’m a fuckin’ coward. I’ve never been any good with maintaining stability in my life and Marley’s an anchor that holds me still in an ocean that wants to pull me under. No matter how much I spin in life, he’s there, a constant, and no way in hell am I fuckin’ that up.
I scamper off the bed and haphazardly toss on clothes. Not even sure if the garments belong to me or to him.
“Those are my boxers,” Marley says.
I glance down and quickly rip them off like they’re on fire. Personally, I don’t mind wearing them, but I also don’t want to make things weirder between us by having something so personal of his on my body. My eyes scan the floor for my boxers, and I come up short.
Marley has the audacity to chuckle at my predicament. “You went commando.”
How the fuck is he laughing about all this? Isn’t he weirded out that I just sucked him dry and then swallowed his cum like it was holy communion? You’d do it again, a pestering voice in my mind hums, and my hard dick twitches in enthusiastic agreement.
I shove my feet in my jeans and pull them up over my aching cock. Fuck my dick. That asshole is the reason I am in this situation. It’s fine, I’ll find some chick and fuck her three ways from Sunday and all will be right with the world. My fingers grip my black Tool hoodie before combing through my hair.
“We cool?” I ask Marley.
He has a shit-eating grin on his face as he puts his enormous arms above his head. Fuck, why are his arms built like a linebacker? The fucker is a classically trained pianist. Shouldn’t he be all skinny with a gut and thick glasses that have tape at the bridge?
“I’m more than cool. I just came like a motherfuckin’ champ. You’re the one flailing around like you lost both your big and little head.”
My mouth goes dry and there’s a lump in my throat. I am the slutty one out of the two of us, not Marley. Yet he’s the one gaining confidence while I want to stick my tail between my legs and run. I am not even sure where I could hide to lick my self-imposed wounds. We share a fuckin’ bus. A bus that’s moving. A bus that’s probably in the middle of nowhere right now.