Home > The Jock(12)

The Jock(12)
Author: Tal Bauer

“You don’t get out much.”

He ran his hand from Justin’s hip to his belly, then slipped it beneath Justin’s shirt. “You make me feel real.”

Justin chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Is that what you want? To feel real?”

“I’ve always wanted that. But it couldn’t happen.”

“What’s different now? Why are you kissing me?”

“Why does the ball need to be caught?”

Justin frowned.

“Because it’s there. Because it’s thrown. Why now? Because you’re here. Because I waited my whole life for the right moment, and the right guy, and…” Wes smiled. Ran his palm over the taut skin beneath Justin’s belly button. “This feels right. Like when I picked up my first football and ran across the yard, all the way down the drive, kept running into the pasture until my dad had to chase me. I knew what felt right. Grabbing that ball and running. Riding my horse as far as I could, to the end of my world. Now you. You feel like the rightest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He ducked his head. “I didn’t know if you would be interested in me. If you were into guys, or…”

“You didn’t know I was gay? Seems like everyone knows by looking at me.”

“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience here, but I just thought you were cooler than I was. More cultured. Smarter.”

“Well.” Justin smiled. Pretended to be smug. “I try.”

“You succeeded. Got me all spun up ‘bout you.” He laid his accent on thick and heavy, like slow honey under a summer sun.

Justin cupped his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him slowly, and then not slowly, until Wes pushed Justin to the mattress and rose over him again. He kissed Justin’s lips, then down to his chin, his neck, bit gently on the edge of his collarbone. “Can I take your shirt off?”

“Of course.” Justin tore his button-down and undershirt off so fast he was almost a blur. He flung the clothing somewhere beyond them, out of sight. He lay back as Wes bit down on his pec, then nibbled his way from nipple to nipple, swirling the tiny nubs with his tongue. Justin tasted like sunshine and a hint of sweat after a long day wandering Paris. Wes brushed his stubbled cheek over Justin’s chest. He was close enough to see the goose bumps rise on Justin’s skin as Wes’s breath caressed it. Was this really happening?

He kissed a slow path down Justin’s abdomen. Detoured to his belly button and dipped his tongue inside. Justin groaned, grabbed Wes’s head, and dug his fingers into Wes’s scalp. His cock was rock hard and tenting his jeans, pressing against Wes’s chest.

Wes’s heart pounded as he unbuttoned Justin’s fly and pulled down his zipper. His hands were shaking. Justin sat up on his elbows, watching Wes, his skin flushed, his lips wet and open, panting. Justin’s cock caught on the elastic of his boxers as Wes pulled them down, then shot free, slapping his belly.

And there was his lover’s cock, right in front of his face. The first one he could touch that wasn’t his own.

His mouth watered, so suddenly, so much, he almost drooled down his chin. Fire burned through him, a coil that went all the way down his spine and settled in his belly. Dropped lower. He’d dreamed of cocks, of getting his hands and his mouth on one, of stroking another man, getting him naked, exploring his body. Kissing his way down a man’s stomach and over his hips before burying his face in a man’s crotch. Now his dreams were coming true, and, goddamn, it was more than he’d expected. He’d wanted this more than he’d imagined.

Wes wrapped his hand around the thick shaft. Justin’s cock head was a deep, dark burgundy. Cut. Justin was about the same size as him, and Wes’s fingers just touched when he wrapped his hand around the heavy shaft. Thick. Hot. It felt like he’d grabbed hold of steel wrapped in something delicate. So different from touching himself, holding himself. He squeezed, stroked, and Justin let out a strangled whimper. “Wes.”

Wes ran his cheek up and down the side of Justin’s cock, then turned and pressed featherlight kisses to the shaft. Inhaled Justin’s musk, the masculine aroma of his body, strong after the summer day. He couldn’t get enough, chasing Justin’s scent all the way to his crotch, to his balls, burying his face in Justin’s hip as he jacked him slowly.

He wanted to taste.

He ran his tongue over the crease of Justin’s thigh and his body, traced the skin that held his balls. Licked his way back up the shaft until he was at the head. He held Justin’s stare as he swirled his tongue there, licking up the precome dribbling from the slit.

Justin stopped breathing.

Wes closed his lips around the purple cock head. And sucked.

He couldn’t get all of Justin into his mouth, but he tried his very best. He didn’t quite know what to do with his tongue or his teeth, but he opened his throat like he was chugging beer, and Justin’s cock slid all the way back, banging against the back of his throat as he hollowed his cheeks and tried to swallow, as he sucked and sucked like Justin was his favorite Popsicle. Justin’s legs quivered, and he gasped, cursed, panted Wes’s name and clawed at the sheets, gripped them in two fists. “Fuck, where did you learn…”

Wes popped off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He could taste Justin’s cock all over his tongue and his lips. “Okay?”

“Keep going,” Justin pleaded. “You’re a goddamn natural.”

Wes stared at Justin as he took him back into his mouth, sucking him as deep as he could before running his tongue up the underside of his shaft, then sliding back, sucking again, going deep. Justin went rip-cord taut, his eyes bulging, lips parted, legs shivering beneath Wes. “Oh my God…”

Wes sped up, his lips a wet seal around Justin’s thick shaft. Up and down, Justin’s cock head sliding deeper down his throat each time. He grasped the base of Justin’s shaft and jacked him in time with his sucks. Saliva dripped from his lips, coated Justin’s cock, slicked his hand.

“Wes…” Justin panted. “Wes, fuck. You have— I’m gonna— Fuck. Pull back!”

Wes hummed. Sucked. Refused to pull back.

Justin jerked, curling over Wes’s head and grabbing at his shoulders, fingers clawing Wes’s back. His cock erupted, hot shots of come slamming into Wes’s throat, coating his tongue, filling his mouth.

Wes swallowed, swallowed again, but still, come dribbled out and down his lips as he kept moving his mouth up and down Justin’s shaft. The taste made his head spin, made him crave more, again, right now. He licked Justin clean, then sucked one finger after another into his mouth. “Yum. Finger-lickin’ good.”

“Holy…” Justin grabbed him. Kissed him, hot and dirty, all tongue and teeth, searching for his own taste inside Wes’s mouth. Wes braced himself on the mattress and got one hand on his fly, popping the buttons and freeing his cock, finally achingly hard, achingly stiff. Justin batted his hands away and shoved down his Wranglers, then smiled. “Hello, big boy.”

Wes flushed. Justin rolled Wes onto his back and slid between his spread thighs, mirroring their position from a minute ago. He kissed his way down Wes’s chest, quicker than Wes had on Justin, before wrapping both of his hands around Wes’s hard cock. He squeezed, and a drop of precome dribbled out of the tip, ran down Wes’s head and over Justin’s fingers.

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