Someone Like You Page 3
Tate took another pull off his beer, the bottle loosely dangling from his fingers. He rounded Brad and sprawled on the sofa. His jeans were tight and stretched across his cock like a beacon.
“Get naked.” Tate didn’t say anything else. Just stared at him. And when nothing happened. “Now, Brad.”
Brad ripped his clothes off and threw them aside. His tie was on the fern, and the trail of garments led to Tate. He knew he was pushing, but the last few days had been hectic. He felt like he was spinning out of control. Tate’s trips were too long.
He had missed Tate.
“Get the fuck over here, and suck my cock.”
His fingers fumbled briefly before Tate’s gorgeous cock sprang out. Long, and thick enough to stretch his mouth, it was a treat. Brad had seen a fair share of cocks and sucked more than a few of them, but Tate’s was his all-time favorite.
He worshipped it, licking, and sucking until drool covered his chin. Tate stood up making him lean back, his shoulder blades hitting the coffee table. Legs spread wide, Tate grabbed hold of his head slowly pulling him on and off. Faster and deeper, he moaned around it.
“Let me in. Swallow,” Tate said pushing deeper. “That’s it.”
Brad swallowed; his throat opening and closing around Tate’s cock, but, it was the ruthless pace of the thrusts and the small noises Tate made as he fucked Brad’s face that were driving him wild. Tate’s fingers tightened, his hips stuttering as they slowed until just the head lay on his tongue.
Hot and bitter come gushed out as Tate gently rubbed his cock across his lips and face. Come splattering his cheek, forehead; writing with his cock across Brad’s face. A signature. Tate’s.
“Fuck that’s good.” Tate rubbed the come into his skin, fingers caressing his cheek and threading through his hair. Tate tugged it, bringing his head back, and smiled. “You’re a good cocksucker. I have couple of friends you should meet.”
Fuck. That shouldn’t make him so hard, but being a slut for Tate’s friends suddenly seemed like the best idea.
“Is that a fantasy for you?” Tate stuck his thumb in his mouth, pulling it down. “Acting the cock slut?”
He nodded. He’d sucked so many dicks at the club one night his jaw ached for two days while he finished an audit. It was perfect. Did he want it, again?
“I’ll keep you in practice, and if you want more, I’ll arrange it.” Tate’s boot nudged his cock. It ached. He wanted to come so bad. Tate had fucked him before he left but hadn’t let him come. “You been good?”
Brad nodded. He tilted his hips forward, displaying how urgent his need was.
Please, Tate, please. He hated how much he wanted it, hated waiting, but he loved the way Tate’s demands made it so much better.
“You want to come?”
“Please,” he tried not to moan as a dribble of pre-come ran down his cock. He was primed and ready to unload.
Tate’s boot nudged his balls, sending a shudder through him. “How bad?”
“Desperately.”
“Then you’ll be happy with my boot. Rub yourself off on it.”
Fuck. The boots were dusty from his hikes, the hooks dangerous, but Brad wanted to come so bad. He looked up at Tate wishing for more. But a slow smile was emerging as he nodded to Brad.
“Go on.” Tate pushed his leg forward. “Hump it. Rub your needy cock until you spill.” Tate grinned as he lined up against the inside of it and tentatively pushed. The dry leather was rough against his cock, catching on the collar. Brad gasped.
“That’s it,” Tate encouraged him. “Love it when you’re so horny.” Brad groaned as he ground harder against the leather. “Hump it good or I’ll put them away, and you’ll be done for the night.”
No. Brad sped up, his hips rabbiting against Tate’s boot, his pre-come slicking the way as he tried to fuck himself to completion. He wanted this. Needed it.
“So horny. Look at that.” He knew Tate was recording him on his phone. Would post it later, and then read off the comments to him. “Rub off, slut.”
And that was it; he started coming. He grabbed hold of Tate’s leg and pushed a few more times, his come shooting out and covering the boot, the floor, and Tate’s leg. His muscles trembled from the strain.
“So messy.” Tate pulled his head up, kissing him.
These moments when Tate made everything else disappear, made him feel the center of his attention, under control, and under his thumb were what made his days worth it.
“Clean it up.”
Shakily, Brad bent over and started licking his come off of Tate’s jeans, the thick material absorbed some of the fluid, so he sucked. Dust and the green of the outdoors melded with the salt of his come. He lowered himself, folding in half as he began licking it off Tate’s boots. The worn leather smooth against his tongue, the hooks sharp, copper filled his mouth from a nick. He groaned. It was so good, come, blood, and Tate.
When he finished he sat back on his heels, his own cock limp and happy, dangling.
“You forgot the floor.” Tate rose and headed back towards the bedroom. “Finish cleaning up and then, come to bed.”
Who Knew?
So… maybe it wasn’t the catastrophe I thought.
Give me a break. I didn’t even know Tate was gay, let alone flying a freak flag. Who would have expected such an example of lumbersexuality to be lurking on the kinky sidelines of my life?
The End
Additional works:
A Shift in Sands
Strange Charm
Matters of State
Krax
Author Bio:
A. Phallus Si is a Jack-of-all-trades and master of none. Self-defined as terminally curious and prone to self-indulgence, APS excels at frittering. Diagnosed as having issues with authority from a young age, APS frolics in being a perpetrator of general ridiculousness and a defender of the irreverent.
APS also believes sex positivity is important, and hopes that within these stories that readers find things that resonate with them. Not all things are for everyone, but each of us deserves sexual expression.
Enjoy your odyssey.
Contact Info: https://aphallussi.wordpress.com/
A Phallus Si, Someone Like You
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