to-know-what-you-want-2

3D Hentai

Subject: To Know What You Want – Ch. 2 To Know What You Want by RJ This story is about a high school sophomore who hits it off with a young man he meets on a dating app. Though the age gap is not large, if themes of adult/youth offend you, do not read. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don’t hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for this story (or all stories) and receive emails about any updates, let me know. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you fty/donate.html ~ Chapter 2 ~ Dad gives me a look: a slight, maybe amused smirk on his lips. “You want a cider?” he asks for clarification. “Yeah.” I don’t tell him who turned me on to them, but suddenly I’m desperate for one after he pulled his out. Usually he has a beer for himself (and Coke for me), but he grabbed a six-pack of ciders by accident from the liquor store. Must be a fucking sign. Fate, even. He thinks on it for a moment before shrugging. “Only one though,” he says before handing me his opened bottle and then turning towards Pete, who’s sitting next to me. “Assuming you want one too?” “Hell yeah,” Pete says with a shit-eating grin. He gets too excited about this stuff. He drum-taps on his lap as my dad gets up and grabs two fresh ciders from his mini-fridge under the television set. I bring the drink to my lips and take a long sip, closing my eyes once the taste hits my tongue. It brings me right back to just two nights ago, where Danny gave me a sip of his parents’ concoction. I miss him. “Ready for the Lions to get their asses handed to them yet again?” Dad asks as he pops the cap off the ciders, hands one to Pete, and then sits back down in his loveseat. I just flip him off and he laughs. “They had one bad game–” “Is that what you’re calling it?” Dad mocks. “It was abysmal, Jax.” “He has a point, bro,” Pete says, but I cut him off. “Still better than how those fuckin’ Packers played,” I mutter. “Watch your mouth,” he says, pointing at me sternly before grinning. “And don’t kid yourself. Read the damn stats. There’s no way that claim will hold up in a court of law,” he teases. I roll my eyes. “Whatever, old man.” I hate that he likes the Packers so much. At least Pete doesn’t, but he’s indifferent to the who’s-who. He just likes watching football. Dad chuckles a bit as I give him a sour look before bringing the cider to my lips. And then, another divine signal: my phone rings on the coffee table. And when I see who’s calling me, I almost pounce onto the glass. Danny. “Be right back,” I say quickly, setting my drink down, snatching my phone up, and hopping over the back of the couch to find some privacy. I probably looked terribly suspicious but right now, all I care about is getting to the bathroom, so I rush in, shut the door, and hastily pick up the call. “Hello?” The first thing I hear is Danny’s little giggle. “Why do you sound out of breath?” “I had to find some privacy,” I tell him. “Privacy? You think I’m gonna get you into trouble or something?” “Well I’m with my dad, and my buddy. Would’ve been weird.” “If you say so,” he says, and just hearing him smile is making me smile. “What are you doing right now?” “About to watch the game,” I say, leaning against the door. “Ooo, ‘the game’,” he says as if it’s mysterious. I laugh. “Sounds important.” “Football IS important. Sunday ritual,” I tell him. Every single Sunday during the season. I don’t miss a game. Ever. Usually I watch it with my dad, and sometimes Pete if he wants to tag along, but if I have to watch it alone, I’ll do it. It’s like a religious need at this point. “Why, what are you up to?” “Literally nothing,” he says with a sigh. “Just having a cig. I’m so bored. Was hoping you could unbore me.” “You could just text me, you know,” I tell him. We exchanged numbers when I got to Pete’s that night and texted a little bit the next day, but any time the conversation dropped, it’s because he didn’t respond. “I hate texting,” he says. “What are you, fifty?” “I’m an old soul, yeah,” he teases. “But maybe I just like hearing your voice.” I bite my lip, almost embarrassed to smile. Even though no one would know. “Get used to typing.” “Alright, I’ll make an effort for you, sir. If you make it worth my while,” he says with a chuckle. I laugh. “How am I gonna do that?” “Make time for me.” I smile. “I don’t have much going on this week,” I tell him. “Besides school. And job hunting.” “Job hunting? What happened to your old job? At the… gas station or something, right?” “I quit.” “What? Why?” “They thought I was stealing from the register,” I say. It still makes me angry remembering how, just yesterday, Greg yelled in my face so loudly and so closely that he was spitting on me through spaces where some of his teeth used to be. I’m surprised I didn’t swing at him. I was so fucking close to cracking, but the most I did was push past him, shoving his big ass out of my way as I walked right out the fucking door. “Well… were you?” Danny asks hesitantly. “No. Fuck you,” I say coldly, quick to snap in defense of myself. He just laughs. “I’m kidding,” he teases. “Have you applied anywhere yet?” “No,” I say, sighing. “Was thinking about taking my dad’s offer to work with him at his firm part-time, but I’d have to wear a tie.” “…So what’s the problem?” he asks after a pause. “I don’t do ties,” I say. He laughs but also coughs, presumably on some smoke. “Seriously?” “Yep.” I’m stubborn as hell about it, too. I don’t know what it is about wearing a tie, but it’s one of the most uncomfortable things to me. “But you’d look cute in a tie,” he says. “Shut up.” He chuckles a bit before saying “Come see me tonight. I’ll give you some ties to try on.” I laugh. “I can’t. I’m with my dad. And Pete.” “After, then.” “I have school tomorrow,” I tell him. Why am I coming up with excuses? Since when do I care? “Damn, if you don’t wanna see me, just say so,” he teases. “That’s not–” I laugh. “You’re an idiot.” “An idiot who wants to hang out with your thieving ass.” “I didn’t–” “I know, I know, you didn’t steal, I believe you,” he says, laughing. “But I still wanna see you. Hey, you should take me to see one of those shitty local bands you were talking about!” Just then, I hear Dad shouting from the other room, telling me that the game is starting. “Coming!” I shout back before lowering my voice for Danny. “Listen, I gotta go.” “Not until you agree to take me.” “Seriously?” “Seriously.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll take you, idiot,” I mumble. He laughs. “Good. Maybe I’ll try texting you.” “Only if they’re nudes,” I say, flushing the toilet to make it seem like I was using the bathroom. Danny laughs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he jokes. “Have fun with your violent American excuse for a sport–” “Bye, Danny,” I say, laughing and hanging up. I hurry out of the bathroom, hopping back onto the couch with a spring in my step. “You almost missed kickoff,” Dad says, eyes glued to the TV. But I wouldn’t care if I did. In fact, I kind of wish I had decided to watch the game alone. Then I could sneak Danny in my room at mom’s and we could watch it together. Maybe cuddle. Kiss during commercials. Not that Danny’s into football, it seems, but still, I’m sure he’d come over if it meant seeing me considering how adamant he was about making plans. I sit on the couch with a little grin on my face, only half-paying attention to what’s happening on screen. My mind is elsewhere, thinking about that kiss we shared in the doorway to his basement. I’m a little desperate for more of that, so if I can see him soon, I’d be happy. A buddy’s band plays shows outside of his garage every Wednesday night. A lot of kids around the neighborhood swing by to come watch, so maybe Danny would be up for that. A quarter into the game, I get a message from Danny that just says “Hey”, and when I open it, I see that there’s a picture attached to the text: a playful half-nude, his full body on display in a mirror. He covers his crotch with one hand and makes a kissy face with his lips, looking both stupid and sexy. I laugh slightly, unable to not smile at the picture. “Who’s making you grin over there?” Dad asks. I blush, setting my phone down. “No one,” I tell him, glancing his way. “Uh huh,” he says, smirking, unconvinced. “She cute?” “It’s no one, Dad.” I glance over at Pete once, but turn away after seeing that intensely skeptical look he’s giving me. “Alright, alright, I get it,” Dad says. “I’ll leave ankara yeni escort you alone.” He keeps smiling as if he knows. But he has no idea. I burst out of the house, feeling a multitude of things: fury, for the way my mom spoke to me; embarrassment, for how I talked back to her; and shame, for making her so disappointed in me. The night air cools me off, but I have to remember to breathe. Relax. Put on your best face for Danny, because there he is, waiting for me at the end of the driveway, smoking his cigarette in the semi-darkness. Thankfully he listened to me and didn’t come up to the front door. I didn’t want mom asking questions. Nor did I want him to witness our argument. “Sorry, sorry,” I say to him as I jog over, still feeling tense and heated. “It’s okay,” he says, hitting me with a smile before flicking his cigarette onto the pavement. “Everything okay?” “Yeah,” I say, scratching my head. “You look all flustered.” Yeah, because I left my mom who was in the middle of cursing me out after she found out I got suspended this week. I thought I had taken all the necessary precautions for her not to be notified, but somehow the news got to her. Of course, I tried to defend my actions even though it makes sense as to why I was suspended: I keep getting into physical altercations. Never unprovoked, though, but the school doesn’t care about that. They just see my track record. I think about telling Danny that I was suspended, but somehow, I feel embarrassed by that now. So all I say is “Sorry.” “It’s fine,” he says with an amused smile. “Anyway. Hi.” He opens his arms, and I smile and walk into them so that we can hug. As we embrace, I feel all that residual anger leaving my body. It’s like he’s squeezing it out of me. “You smell,” I say, sniffing him. “I do?” He steps back and sniffs his shirt before he realizes what I’m talking about. “Oh, the smoke?” “Yeah.” “Damn. Sorry. I really needed it though.” I try to let it slide but I’m really not a fan of cigarettes. Even the scent turns me off. “It’s fine,” I say, not wanting to start something. “Where’d you park?” I ask, looking around for his car. “Just at my parents’,” he says. “Figured I’d just walk.” “Oh,” I say, nodding. It’s a short walk through the park anyway. He smiles. “Ready for our date?” he teases. I snort. “Date?” “Yeah. Is this not your way of asking me out?” he says with a grin. I blink before laughing a little. “Right. Um…” I scratch the back of my head. “Listen. I should have told you before, but… Well, I’m not out yet,” I say, looking up at him. “Oh. Well that’s cool,” he says, shrugging. “I mean, I figured you weren’t.” I wince. “Really?” “Yeah. You’re a little uptight.” “Uptight?!” “Yeah, just all tense and stuff. Don’t be mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands up and laughing. “I still like you.” I sigh a bit, trying to loosen up. Am I really that fucking tense? “Sorry.” “It’s fine, man. We don’t have to like, hold hands and shit.” He grins. “I won’t blow your cover.” My fear was that he’d be put off by my implication, but he’s surprisingly cool about it, so I feel a little more at ease as we walk the mile to the garage show. It feels good to be in his presence again. To walk close and to talk freely. Sometimes our arms brush against each other and I smile a little to myself, listening him talk about weird patients he had to deal with at work today. Chatting is cool and all, but I really want to fucking kiss him. Every time we pass a car or a bush or some hideaway where we could access a little bit of privacy, I want to grab his hand and show him what I’ve been missing so badly since last Friday. But I’ll have to wait. Soon the cul-de-sac comes into view, bright lights emanating from the Murphy House — named such by the locals since Murph lives there and lets everyone use his garage for shows. He’s a pretty chill dude, though every girl will testify that he’s tried to grab their tits. I lead Danny closer to the house where a couple dozen kids my age are standing around and chatting while the band sets up. “Solid crowd,” Danny says. “This is nothing,” I tell him. The weekends are better. Still, it’s nice to break up the week with a bit of music. Lucky the neighbors are so cool about a bunch of kids jamming out, because we get pretty loud. “You should come back on a Saturday night.” “Maybe I will,” he says with a grin. “Don’t embarrass me,” I mutter and he pushes me playfully, making me laugh. Just as we step onto the driveway, someone calls for me: Murph. His voice is unmistakable. “Hey, Pretty Boy’s here!” he says, and I turn and grin towards him. “Sup, Murph?” I say, laughing at his outfit. “The fuck are you wearing?” “It’s called fashion, Jax,” he says with a grin, showing off his shirt. He’s one of those white stoner dudes that wears African-patterned jazz shirts almost exclusively. This one’s particularly interesting with all the different colors and patterns. But what do I know? I only wear what’s comfortable and simple. “Whatever, man,” I say, walking up to him. Our hands find each other’s as we run through a quick, natural handshake. “Who’s your friend?” he asks, cocking his chin towards Danny, who’s standing behind me. “This is Danny,” I say, stepping aside so they can shake hands. “Danny, Murph. Murph, Danny.” “Nice to meet you, big guy,” Murph says, clearly sizing him up. Which is unsurprising since he’s a bit shrimpy. “You too, dude,” Danny says, smiling. “Cool place.” “Just giving back to the community,” Murph says with a chuckle. “You want a beer?” “Nah, I’m good,” Danny says. “Something stiffer?” He laughs. “I shouldn’t. I get too horny when I drink.” I feel my face get warm, but Murph gets a kick out of that, clutching his stomach as he laughs. “That’s funny!” he says. “I appreciate the real talk, my man.” Turns out most of my peers appreciate his company. Murph, taking a liking to him, introduces Danny to the band, and they all seem to hit it off. Danny’s even quick to strike up conversation with other people, and in a way that doesn’t put anyone off. I don’t think anyone is left wondering “Why the fuck is this guy talking to me?” when he speaks to them. It just feels natural and non-intrusive. And he’s respectful when the band actually starts playing, keeping conversation to a minimum and nodding his head appropriately to the beat. Even after their set, he’s the first one to go up and tell them how awesome they were and to encourage them to keep playing. I just watch from a distance, smiling a bit. But, even though there’s another band playing in about ten minutes, I want some alone time with him. He’s shared himself with enough people. Now I’m feeling selfish. “We don’t have to stay the whole time,” I say after he finishes chatting with one of the guitarists. He looks at me curiously. “Oh, did you wanna go?” Maybe I should have just been forward with him. “Kinda.” He just smiles and nods. “Let’s go then.” He asks me if I want to say any goodbyes, but I see everyone so often that I don’t see the point, so we just leave. On our way back, Danny talks excitedly about the music, which almost makes me laugh. The band wasn’t particularly good, if I’m being honest. They can play decently enough, but they’re nothing to rave about. The way Danny talks about them you’d think they were the next Beatles or some shit. But he’s cute when he speaks. He’s playful with his words and quick to say something that will make me smile. I like the bits of banter too. It’s like I can fight without getting angry at anybody. The closer we get to my house, the sadder I get. I’ll have to face my mom again soon, but I want to draw this night out a little bit. Maybe Danny doesn’t have plans for the rest of the evening? But he beats me to it. When we get in front of my driveway, we both stop. I look at him right when he starts speaking. “So when am I seeing you again?” he asks. I arch my eyebrow. “What, is this goodnight?” He looks surprised. “Oh! No, I just thought… It’s late, and you have school and stuff.” I look away for a moment. “I, uh… I don’t have school tomorrow.” “Oh.” He smiles a bit, probably seeing the opportunity to hang out longer. “Well, great then! Day off?” “Sorta,” I say, clearing my throat. Might as well just tell him. “I, um… I got suspended.” “Suspended?” He squints before laughing. “Why?” “Got into another fight. It was nothing, but…” But the pussy’s mom complained enough to the school or something. I glance up at Danny, and he’s just staring at me. “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” he says, laughing slightly. “Like you’re scared of me.” “I’m not yenimahalle escort scared of you,” he says seriously. That makes me smile a bit. At least he’s not put off by me. Yet, at least. “I AM pretty curious about you, though.” I just shrug. “You said you got into ‘another’ fight,” he says, crossing his arms. “You fight a lot or something?” “I just get angry sometimes,” I say in a low voice. “Huh.” He looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. Or in a new light or something. “Sorry, you just seem so… docile when we’re together.” “I don’t know what to tell you,” I say. He must have thought I sounded bitter because he says “I didn’t mean it like an insult.” “I know,” I assure him. What’s he thinking? That I’m probably crazy? That he should stay away from me because I might blow up on him at any second? I hope not. He said he’s not scared of me. I have to focus on that. “Can I come over?” He arches his eyebrow for a moment before speaking. “I mean, sure. My parents are home but… if we’re quiet, we’ll be fine.” “Cool,” I say, feeling a little relieved. He smiles and slings his arm around my neck. “C’mon, Angry Boy,” he says. “Or was it Pretty Boy?” I push him off me but grin as we walk side by side through the park. It’s nearly a half hour walk to his familiar little space, admiring the fully-furbished basement (almost like an apartment in of itself), and I get flashbacks to last week when I was here last. Mostly I get flashbacks to what I was feeling: excited, nervous, comfortable, tense, free, impressed. And then that kiss… I hope we can pick up where we left off. Danny has me take a seat back on the couch, and, feeling a little warm, I take my jacket off, cozy enough in my hockey jersey. He offers me a drink, and when I ask for cider, he grins a bit. “Aren’t you eighteen?” I blush. I almost let it slip that I’m sixteen, but I hold my tongue. “It’s just a cider,” I say. He chuckles. “Long as you don’t get me into trouble,” he says before disappearing around the corner. “I won’t.” There’s no way I’d want him to get into trouble. And for what? He’s the first guy I’ve had an open, mutual crush on before. I’m not trying to fuck this up. I listen to him grab a couple ciders from the fridge and then pop them open. “Hey, can I ask you something?” I ask him. “Yeah, go for it,” he calls back. “So… you have a kid.” I hear him laugh before he comes back around the corner with two bottles. “Yeah, sorry,” he says. “I forget how serious that is sometimes.” “I mean… it’s a kid,” I say with a laugh, taking the bottle he’s offering me. “Yeah, I know.” He sits down next to me with a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a serious dad,” he says with a smile. “But it’s no fun taking things too seriously. Especially when you have a kid at fucking twenty-one.” I take a sip of my cider before asking him if he sees his son often. “Oh, yeah, all the time,” he says. “He lives with me.” I try to picture Danny taking care of his infant son and, strangely enough, it’s not difficult to imagine. I think he was right on the money when he said he doesn’t take things “too seriously” though. He’d be a loose but fun sort of father figure. But maybe too loose? I mean, who’s taking care of him now? Before I can ask, he glances at me, his demeanor shifting as he hits me with a concerned, almost apologetic expression. “I get it if me having a kid, like… weirds you out.” “No, it’s cool,” I tell him. I mean, it’s sort of crazy that I’m crushing on a dad right now, right? I’m torn too. On one hand, I think it’s kind of fucking hot. But that’s short term, because on the other hand, what do I do if this continues? Christ. I don’t want to think about that right now. So I switch topics slightly. “So, are you gay, bi…?” I ask, wondering how the kid got here in the first place. “Mmm… Good question,” he says, scratching his chin. “Maybe 80% gay, 20% straight,” he decides. “I didn’t really know I was into girls until I slept with Jess.” Then he laughs, shaking his head. “One time, man. One time, and then BAM! Pregnant.” I laugh. “That’s why condoms are a thing.” “Thanks, I didn’t know,” he says sarcastically before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Here, lemme show you a picture of him.” Danny scrolls through a number of photos before settling on one particularly adorable selfie of him and his son both smiling brightly at the camera. I can’t help but laugh. It’s a great picture of him and Riley out in what looks to be a park on a particularly sunny day, Riley flashing his baby teeth and Danny in mid-laugh. He must have made Riley giggle somehow. The kid looks like a loveable little thing, although he still has that somewhat generic look kids that young have. “That’s fucking cute,” I say. He laughs. “Right? He’s a little munchkin.” “He’s got your eyes,” I point out. “Oh, you noticed my eyes?” he says, looking at me with a smirk. “Hard not to,” I tell him. Most people say brown eyes are basic, but his eyes are the kind of eyes that you want to sink into. You know he’d be comfortable and warm. That’s how I feel right now, under his gaze: comfortable and warm. And then, he intensifies those feelings by suddenly leaning in and kissing me, right then and there. I press my mouth back against his, that strange, almost electric vibration going right up my spine. My hand rests on his thigh and grips it as we kiss back and forth slowly, deeply, in absolute silence. When I break away to get some air, he laughs a little breathlessly. “Fuck,” he says. “What?” “You’re… intoxicating.” I burst out laughing, but I’m blushing intensely. “Shut up.” “I’m serious,” he says, his eyes fixed on my lips. “I could kiss you all night.” I lick my lips slightly. “Okay,” I say. And I urge him to with a look. Do it, Danny. Kiss me all night. His mouth curls up on the left side into a half-grin before he simultaneously puts his phone down and then leans back into me. But he leans in hard enough to start lying me down on the couch enough to climb over me. I let him half-straddle me as we kiss in a hurried sort of way, like we’re racing against the clock, keeping our lips connected as our hands eagerly roam the other’s body. Itching to touch his skin, any skin, I slide my hands up his shirt and grip his back, and he responds with a slight groan before moving his lips to my neck. I tilt my head to the side, baring my neck for him and giving him all the access he needs. In the meantime, I slide my hands around, going right for his belt. I hear that classic sound of a belt being undone before I notice that Danny has a similar idea: with one hand, he’s undoing the button in my shorts and then pulling down the fly. Before I can even cop a feel, he’s moving down. He slides my jersey up slightly — enough to easily get to my shorts. I lift my ass as he tugs my shorts down and then completely off my legs, leaving me in my boxers. Those he only tugs down in the front, my almost-hard cock flopping against my stomach. I almost expect him to say something dumb or clever, but he just goes right in. I moan when I feel the moist warmth of his mouth, getting harder and harder the more he glides his tongue along the ridges. I put my hands in his hair, holding on tight as he moves up and down in my lap at a steady pace. Fuck, he’s good. Good enough to be able to take me into his throat smoothly every time he goes down. He even does this thing where he laps at my balls when he gets deep, not once choking or gagging. Fucking love it. I hold onto the back of his head and hesitantly thrust up into his face, and he lets me rut into his mouth a few times before he pulls off, clears his throat, and takes a breath. He holds my dick and rubs my sensitive cock head along his facial hair, and I twitch and moan before pulling my dick away from him. He just laughs and sits up between my legs. “Fucker,” I groan. He just smirks. “You look kinda sexy like this,” he says. “Like what?” “In your jersey, with your cock out,” he says, nudging my dick playfully. I sit up so I can slap his hand away, blushing and laughing. “Fuck off.” “Could I snap a quick pic of you?” he asks with a grin. “Bye,” I say, laughing. “I’d treasure it dearly.” “Seriously?” I ask, arching my eyebrow. “I’m dead serious.” I’m sort of honored, flattered, and turned on all at the same time. But the last thing I need are my nudes out there. I wear this jersey more than any other article of clothing. “I don’t need you taking pictures of me,” I tell him. “Fine,” he says, holding his hands up. “But next time you feel like sending me something sexy… You know what to do.” He just grins but I roll yozgat escort my eyes, pushing him back on the couch. “You’re not getting shit from me,” I say, quickly moving to straddle him and sit in his lap. His hands go right for my sides as he rests against the back of the couch. “Gonna fight me or something?” he teases. “I might,” I warn him, but all I do is lean in and kiss him roughly. After a few rounds of delicious tongue-wrestling, I even bite down on his bottom lip. Hard. He winces and says “Ow!” before he pulls back, looking at me with surprise. Then he’s grinning again. “God, you’re fucking sexy,” he mutters in a low voice before grabbing the back of my head and pulling me back against his lips. I laugh briefly, but am quickly swept up by the mouth-to-mouth contact. I grip his shirt tightly during the lip-lock, making out with him as if we’re both fighting for the upper hand. I feel Danny’s hand slip between us, reach into my boxers, and grip my cock. I moan, letting him jerk me off — which gives him full control over me. My cock is feeling so sensitive that he’s winning the battle, making me weak. I just hold onto him, relishing the depth of each kiss. But I’m close already. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t jerked off all day, or because I’m with Danny, but the way he’s stroking and kissing and touching me has got me practically on the edge. So I reach down, grab his wrist, and pull him away from my crotch. I keep the kissing going though as I finish what I started earlier: undoing his belt. It’s my turn to blow him. I undo the button and the fly underneath before finally prying my lips away from his and then getting down to my knees. Once I’m situated between his legs, he slouches a little bit for me, and I reach into his underwear to fish his cock out before I eagerly go down on him. Fuck. It’s been a while since I’ve done shit. And with a daddy dick, no less. Not that dad dick necessarily tastes any better or anything. But it’s the thought that counts. And Danny has this lightly musky scent that’s giving me a rush. His natural smell, filling my nostrils. It makes me salivate even more, and I bob up and down a little faster, glancing up at him almost thankfully. “Fuck, Jax,” he says, watching me and spreading his legs even wider. “You look so damn cute sucking cock.” I love the way he says “cock.” It’s the accent, I think. I blush, pulling off and just stroking him slowly. “Don’t get any ideas.” He laughs. “I wasn’t gonna ask. I’m not an asshole.” “Debatable,” I tease before opening my mouth and going back down on him. Sometimes I worry about how I look when I’m sucking dick. I don’t want to add too many flourishes or anything because I don’t want to seem like I’m enjoying it too much. But the truth is, I love it. I love sucking dick. If I could only choose one sex act for the rest of my life, it’d be giving oral. And Danny’s is perfect for me: thick enough to fill my mouth without straining me, long enough for me to try deep-throating it without being totally intimidated by it, and attached to a guy who makes me feel like I don’t have to hold back too much. So I pull out all the stops for him. I give him eye contact, head-teasing, deep-throating (even though I’m not the best at it), swipes with my tongue, kisses down to his balls, nuzzling, inhaling… I’m basically worshipping this dude right now. And he’s watching every second of it, not turning away for a moment. I thought I’d be nervous under someone’s gaze for so long, but him? Let him watch. I jerk myself off as I bob up and down, tilting my head in smooth motions as I work. I pop off once to go back to sucking on his balls, but he grunts. “No, don’t stop,” he says. “I’m close.” Quickly, I lift his cock back to my mouth and continue sucking. I go a little faster, paying extra attention to where my tongue is going and how it’s sliding across his most sensitive areas. Slowly, Danny’s moans get a little more strained. His hand goes to my head, lightly adding pressure but still letting me do my thing. I keep looking up at him as his eyebrows furrow, and eventually, he lifts his ass up off the couch as he starts to cum. “Fuuuck,” he groans when he realizes I’m not going to pull off. I feel that first powerful shot hit the back of my throat but I keep my cool, letting his load flood my mouth a bit before I start drinking it down like a fucking whore. Damn, he tastes good. I keep sucking slowly. I know he’s sensitive right now so I use minimal tongue, just gently moving up and down with my lips and making sure I get every drop I can. Slowly I pull up to the head, give it a good suck, and then let his cock fall away from my lips before I look back up at him. I lick my lips a bit, blushing, relishing the taste of his dad cum. “You swallowed?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah.” “Huh. I’m surprised.” I shrug. “The fuck else am I supposed to do with it?” Apparently he finds that hilarious, because he laughs a little harder than I expected him to. “I just mean, not a lot of guys care to.” “A lot of guys ain’t shit,” I tell him. “Good point.” He grins a bit before leaning forward and having me stand up in front of him. He looks up at me as he tugs my boxers down a bit and then once again wraps those sure fingers around my cock. I hum softly, watching him carefully. As he gazes up at me, he leans forward and taps my cock against his lips a few times as if testing the hardness before he wraps his lips around it again. Now he’s focused. He closes his eyes, getting into it more, taking me in deep strides as he holds onto my hips for support. I feel his hands slide around to my ass, and I bite my lip when he grips each cheek tightly. At the same time, he takes me down to the hilt, rubbing his face deep into my crotch. I can’t resist tugging on his hair again, hoping he doesn’t mind. He practically massages my ass as he bobs back and forth, and my eyes roll back as I listen to those throaty noises he’s making when he takes me deep. Soon, his fingers start to explore a little further, getting deeper into my crack before I feel his middle finger nudging against my hole through my boxers. I whimper a bit, blushing as I push my hips forward towards his face. He keeps prodding at it, rubbing it in circles, and I just hold onto his hair, trying so hard not to whine like a little bitch. “I’m cumming,” I say suddenly. “I’m fucking cumming.” Danny just gives me a muffled “Mhm” as he keeps blowing me. If anything, he starts moving faster, and my grip on his hair tightens. I stop caring how hard I tug on him. All I care about for these five-second span is my orgasm, which sweeps over me like hot water. I moan out, swearing a few times as I fuck my cum into his mouth. I hear him grunting too, probably trying to keep up, and I attempt to hold back my thrusts and relax once those five-seconds of bliss have passed. I feel like I broke a sweat just then, and my chest heaves as I look down at Danny. He slowly pulls off, swallowing before coughing and laughing. “Damn,” he says, clearing his throat as he leans back against the couch, still holding onto my dick. “Huge load.” “Sorry,” I say. Why am I apologizing? He gives my cock a few strokes before his eyes slide up to meet mine. “That was the first time I’ve ever swallowed, you know.” Then he gives me a cheesy smile. “So you’re welcome.” I just stand there in front of him, almost feeling turned on again. First time he ever swallowed? Sort of hot that I got that honor. He gives my dick another squeeze and, once he composes himself, he just smiles at me, looking so cute and handsome with his messed-up hair and flushed cheeks and red, wet lips. I think he has a little bit of my load on his chin, too. “C’mere,” he says softly, patting his lap. I half-smile, pulling my boxers back up a bit before I straddle his lap again. I hold his face in one hand, cupping his chin and pressing my thumb into one cheek and my fingers into the other as I lean in and kiss him. He chuckles against my lips, letting me take the lead, just running a hand gently up and down my thigh. I give him slow kisses, mostly tongue, and he accepts them with soft, deep hums. I give him a sweeter kiss before pulling back with a little smile, looking down at my lap. “Fucking hot,” Danny says softly. I glance at him, seeing that he’s just staring at me with a wide, stupid grin. “Shut up,” I tell him, pushing his face away. He laughs. “Accept my compliments,” he says, pushing my hand away. “You’re fucking hot,” he repeats. I roll my eyes. “This is–” “Accept the compliments, Jax,” he says, grabbing onto me. “You’re hot, and sexy, and mysterious, and interesting, and tough, and–” “Okay, okay,” I say, laughing and covering his mouth to shut him up. My face is warmer than it’s ever been. Probably redder than it’s ever been, too. Thank God for the dim lighting right now. “Thank you.” He smiles, nodding when I pull my palm away from his lips. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

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