kinky_af

I could see a clock on the wall over the fireplace if I turned my head slightly to the right, which is how I knew it was twenty minutes - that felt like four hours - before he had me fully deranged by the need to cum, squirming and clutching at things, increasingly close to whimpering...

"Fuck - please," I whispered, voice cracking. "You're killing me here..."

He drew back for a breath, blinked once, and released my balls before plummeting back down, and, oh christ, he had another gear...

I was so backed up that the half-second of stasis before I shot was actually painful, like the prelude to a sneeze, and then I was cumming and cumming and cumming and gasping for breath and still cumming and groaning and curling in on myself and still cumming and when I eventually had to stop him I was bent almost double and my head was only a few centimetres from his and I was riffling his hair with my panting, and when he finally let me slip from his mouth I was done, so completely done and yet my dick had barely shrunk at all, and I vaguely wondered if it ever would, or if he'd sucked it into a new configuration...

But I stopped thinking about my dick the moment I got a good look at Reid's face. If I'd really needed confirmation that he'd put his all into that task...god. He was the definition of 'hot mess'. His lips were puffy, his glasses were crooked, his hair was everywhere, and pretty much his entire face was glistening under a layer of bodily fluids...

"Fuck..." I breathed, as I reached out a couple of fingers and trailed them across his cheek, through the slime. He turned his head and sucked them into his mouth, dancing his tongue over and around them, and I felt my supposedly spent dick give a tiny twitch...

"Fuck," I groaned again, my vocabulary apparently as depleted as my balls.

Reid released my fingers and came to his feet, stretching, his groin about at my eye height, the outline of his hard-on clearly visible, trapped in his clothes...and at its head? The tiniest, tiniest wet spot, seeped all the way through his shorts.

"Fu-u-ck." I found another couple of words. "Lemme see."

Oh. Oh holy shit. He was maybe an inch longer than me, though not any fatter, but...god. Fuck. What a perfect cock. It was...uhhh...I felt almost dizzy, it was so beautiful. So...symmetrical. Jutting up absolutely plumb toward his navel, the frenulum dead centre, the folds of the foreskin to the left and right utterly uniform...even the veins almost mirrored one another each side of that deliciously fat spongy tube at the front...

Suddenly there was no thought in my head besides; 'That. Now.'

I leaned forward and grabbed his arse, slamming my face into him, breathing him in, lapping him up, famished and feasting. Drawing back to look, to blow cold on the wetness, taking him back in to warm up again. Listening to him moan and moaning right back, tickling him with the vibrations...I was in heaven. He tasted as amazing as he smelled and he smelled as amazing as he looked, and all, just all my senses drunk on him, reeling...

It might have been my instantaneous infatuation with his perfectly proportioned dick, or it might have been because he'd recently edged me past the point of being able to think at all, but it wasn't until Reid laid a hand on my head that I realised I was exposed here - that I hadn't taken any of my usual precautions...

When I first started hooking up, I quickly discovered that letting guys know I couldn't throat before I went down on them was a bad idea, because most of them seemed to take it as a personal invitation to 'help me learn'. It kinda seemed like it'd be a mood-killer to go really brutal and say; 'I can't throat. And guess what, I actually mean that, so don't even think about trying to 'teach' me unless you want me to punch you in the balls and follow through by puking on you, okay?'

In reality, it's worse than that. In reality, if my access to air is obstructed - even for a second - what happens is I flip straight over into a full-on panic attack. I'd just give up sucking dick entirely, except, I mean...not really...

To get around the problem I invented a set of personal quirks, little easily explainable things I was supposedly into, to guarantee I was the one in a position of advantage any time I wrapped my lips around a cock. Failing that, I'd ensure the other guy's hands were needed for balance or maybe tied to something...

I had a hundred ways of protecting myself, yet here I was sitting - sitting - in front of a taller-than-average guy who had gravity and leverage on his side, coupled with at least seven inches of moderately fat dick, and no idea of what carnage he'd set off if he pushed things even a tiny bit too far...

Suddenly the hand was gone, and a moment later, the dick followed as Reid stepped back a pace.

Wait, what? I thought. Where are you taking my...

"You okay?" Reid asked. He looked worried. "You sorta...froze."

Of course, yeah. Shit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

"I, uh...sorry. Thought for a moment you might be gonna try and force-feed me that thing. Like, 'cos you put your..."

"I wasn't," he assured me. "I was just...touching you. But good to know. The whole choking thing not your bag, huh?"

I shook my head. "Nah. It kinda...freaks me out."

"Then I won't do it, okay? Okay, J? You don't need to worry. I don't wanna make you feel bad. I wanna make you feel good."

You did. You do. You are.

"I...can I have it back now?" I whispered. "Please?"

He laughed and stepped forward again, and I picked up where I left off. Almost immediately I was back in the zone, senses drenched by the this-ness, overlaying everything. Everything. No time, no space...just Reid, Reid, Reid, out to the very edge of perception, sight and sound and smell and soft and hard and sweet and salty and-

"J?" he croaked. "J? Baby? I need to cum..."

I'd kinda guessed, actually. I had my hands on his thighs for insurance, in case he forgot his promise and started thrusting, and I could feel the muscles under my fingers beginning to tremble and shake...

"D'you want me to..."

He was drawing back slightly. I wrapped an arm around his arse, locking my elbow so he couldn't retreat, so he'd unload in me, so I could taste him, so I could have him, swallow him, keep him...

--

Afterward, we somehow ended up lying side-by-side on the floor staring up at the raw grey ceiling with its neat rows of little dabs of white filler over the screw-holes, both of us just...blissing out, and into the silence I started to talk.

I told him how perfect I found his dick, and why. I told him I loved order and uniformity and symmetry, that I found it kinda...pleasing, soothing. I told him how I looked for patterns in things around me to distract myself, calm myself down if things were going a bit haywire inside my head. I told him I finished tidying my room just before I left for his.

He turned his head to look at me, eyelids heavy. "Yeah? Good for you. Go alright?"

"Uh-huh. I went and sat and thought about how I felt - y'know, after that walk, after what you said? And it turned out I did want to do it. I was just...yeah, overwhelmed, I guess, by how big of a task it was gonna be. So I did half an hour, then stopped. Then half an hour the next day. And so on. Then about an hour today, and it's done. Not that it'll last, but..."

He was still watching me. "And here I was sure you thought I was talking absolute horseshit."

I shrugged. "I pretty much did. But it's not like I had a better idea, so I thought, oh well, give it a go..."

He nodded slowly. Then...he smirked. Yeah, that was definitely a smirk.

"Wha-at?" I prompted.

"I'm wondering what other shit I can get you to 'give a go' if I provide you with wild ideas and you don't happen to have a better one handy at the time, Mr kinky-as-fuck," he breathed.

"Hah!" I snorted. "I told you that username was a joke. And if you think you're gonna get gags or hoods or handcuffs on me, you can fucking think again..."

He looked mischievous. "Collar, then?"

"Fuck off."

"Nipple clamps?"

"Fuck off some more."

"Ooh, I know...a puppy tail..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can fuck off all the way around with that one, mate - and when you come back past, you can start fucking off again!"

Reid laughed his delicious laugh and rolled over to his front, twinkling down at me with his hair flopping onto his forehead. "Well, we do have a cricket ground...I mean, if you're ever around at 2am..."

"You're on," I told him. "Anytime. So long as it's in the middle of the night."

He leaned down so his lips were brushing mine as he spoke. "Mmm, but who'd be doing the fucking, though?"

I shifted my head so I could see his eyes - so he could see mine.

"I would be."

He lifted a single cheeky eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

I took a firm grip of his forelock. "Yes, pretty boy. I'm sure about that."

I saw...something...flicker very briefly in his eyes before he smirked again and joked;

"I might as well throw ideas out there, eh? - seems like some of 'em stick..."

"Not that one, sorry," I told him, combing his hair back into place with my fingers before stroking his cheek.

The big winner-winner-chicken-dinner grin broke out as he rolled to his feet and reached a hand down to me, winking.

"Hey, I'll survive. I might even enjoy it..."

He made us gyros from leftover rotisserie chicken and hummus and salad and flatbreads and we had a couple of beers and we did actually watch Netflix, and, you know...chill, and suddenly it was somehow quarter to midnight.

I stood up and stretched. "I should probably head."

Reid stayed where he was, slumped into a corner of the couch. "You can stay if you want," he offered.

"Uhh, no..." I stammered, "....I mean, um, thanks, but...I don't have my meds with me, and I'm kinda overdue already. I should get home."

He sat up, and the droopy-eyed-ness fell away from him. "Can I have one for the road, then?" he murmured, gazing at my groin, licking his lips.

"Sure," I told him. With talent like yours? You can have one any time, for any reason...or even no reason at all.

It was different second time around. Less like an insane rollercoaster ride, more like...a love song to my dick. Some kind of slow acoustic ballad. Equally intense, but in a whole different way. Or possibly more intense. 'Cos you'd think - you'd think - that having cum only a few hours ago I might've been able to hold on past, y'know, three minutes or something, but no...

"Fuck, you're too good, you're too good," I groaned through my fist, which was mashed against my mouth, as I unloaded in him for a second time. "You're too good, it's not fair. Not fair."

"Seems pretty fair to me," Reid was saying a few seconds later, wiping the corners of his mouth the same way I'd first seen him do at that Subway. "You get to cum, and I get to swallow it. All good."

Speaking of fair..."What about you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

I stretched out my leg and laid the sole of my foot along the outline of his cock, which was hard and throbby and definitely not a cock that had accidentally shot off too early...

"Fine...in what way?"

He leaned into my foot. "I...yeah. So, what I'd really like right now is for you to take off your shirt and get down on the floor on your back and let me straddle you and cum on your chest and then...fucking like lather it all through that fur...but then you'd have to have a shower to get it all off, and it's late and you need to drive home and..." He trailed off, gesturing.

"Dude, don't deny yourself," I told him, pulling off my t-shirt and lying down for him. In all honesty, it didn't sound especially tempting, but hey, y'know...fair...and in the end I enjoyed it a lot, lot more than I expected to. Enough to make the hassle of another shower easily worth it.

For starters, I got to appreciate that intoxicating dick again, in close up, to see it begin to bead with pre-cum, then gently weep...I got to see his hand working the shaft, and god, it was pretty too...lean, long-fingered and big...

I got to hold his arse-cheeks and feel them clench and release as he thrust into his palms and his face gone pink and his eyelashes kinda fluttering and his gaze wandering all over me, same as mine was with him, and every now and then our eyes would meet and each time it had that ka-fucking-BOOM quality...

...and before I knew it I was begging him to give it to me, give it to me...and when he finally did and then reached down with his cum-covered hand and smeared it everywhere, his eyes holding me, holding me with him, I was into it. Really into it.

And then I was going to leave, all cleaned up and keys in my hand, and Reid said to me;

"Sweet dreams, J. If you want to stay over next time, remember to bring your meds. And if you don't want to, then I guess...remember to forget them again, eh?"

Shit, I thought, getting into my car. Shee-it. He saw straight through me there. Yeah, it was an excuse. A pre-prepared one. I don't 'forget' to bring my meds with me when I go places. I didn't bring them specifically, just in case...so I could not be an asshole if he asked me to stay, and now...

I spent the drive home wondering if he was mad at me - maybe not? - he did wink while he was saying it...wondering if I should text him, wondering what I'd say if I did. Telling myself that this was why I didn't do relationships. Asking myself how I'd live without those blowjobs, now that I knew they existed...

In the end I left it, took my pills, went to bed and slept...not terribly, and it seemed like Reid wasn't mad, if the number of vegetable emoji he texted me over the next few days were any indication.

Only he didn't suggest I come out to his again - not in those texts, not when we got together on Wednesday after his weekly parental visit for another river walk, this one followed by a detour to my place to suck each other off afterwards.

Not on Saturday afternoon either, when we met up out at Raglan and explored around the little town centre and there were these food trucks set up and he insisted I try some kind of long roll called a bánh mì, and I was like, fuck, where have these things been my whole life? Instead, we went over the hill to the main beach and mucked around in the surf in our clothes, then sat drying out in the last of the sun's heat before hiking up into the scrub behind, swallowing each other's salty dicks and going our separate ways.

But he texted me, and I texted him back, and I went out to meet him by the river on Wednesday and when we were nearly back to mine he suggested we go walk around the gardens on Saturday morning coming, seeing as I had no work for once.

"Fuck, what is it with you and going for walks?" I exclaimed. "All this fucking nature! What's it about?"

Reid laughed. "Admit it J. You like coming on walks with me. And these are world-class gardens, y'know."

"I like cumming after walks with you," I told him. "But I'd probably like it just as much without the walk. And for sure without the gardens."

"Well, then," he said, squeezing my hand, "just think of it as working up an appetite."

"I don't need to-"

He cut me off, touching a finger to my lips. "No, baby. As me working up an appetite..."

"Ugh, okay," I sighed, unlocking the front door and dragging him in with me, "I'll walk around some gardens with you, whatever. Don't expect me to be all like, whoa, about it though..."

When Saturday rolled around, I was hung over, 'cos Friday afternoon drinks had kinda run into Friday evening shots due to Lee's thirtieth, and the idea of walking around oohing at cute stuff with some fucking let's-look-at-the-positives dude just wasn't doing it for me. But I shovelled myself out of bed and through the shower and found a pair of very dark sunglasses and a cap and stopped by a service station for a nasty greasy plastic-bagged sausage roll to re-line my stomach and a bottle of Mountain Dew to re-line my head and made my way to the gardens anyhow...

Reid came sauntering up to me as I was leaning against my car finishing up the Mountain Dew and wishing it wasn't so sodding bright and glary today.

"Feeling a little dusty, J?" he teased.

"Fuck you," I growled, but he just took my hand and stroked with his thumb and reminded me I'd get past it.

I was actually, genuinely, a dick to him for the first hour or so as we wandered around. Partly because of my hangover, but partly because I'd warned him I wasn't interested in gardens, so now I had a point to prove. Or something.

It wasn't hard to be evidently unimpressed by the themed gardens, with their dinky pagodas and runty little maple trees and ponds full of those stupid oversized goldfish and the twee little gateways and the rustic benches and the flowers and the fountains and my god all the dumb little knee-height hedges everywhere - and Reid just put up with it and put up with it and put up with it until he towed me through yet another gateway and said;

"Then how about this one, J?"

He guided us over to a thankfully non-rustic bench and sat, and I thunked down beside him, trying to compute, trying to understand, trying to...in the end I gave up and just let myself go whoa...even though I'd vowed I wasn't gonna do that.

But, whoa. What a garden. It was a square, made up of nine squares. Seven of them were composed of low-clipped plants in differing shades, all the plants in each square identical.

One square was lawn, raised so it sat at the same height as the plants.

One was a still black pool.

There were sixteen small trees, one at each corner of each square.

It was completely...fucking...perfect. It was just down the road from my house. It was free. I can come here any time I want, I thought. I can get this feeling...anytime I want. Anytime I want.

I don't know how long I sat there, just letting it seep into me, but eventually I remembered Reid's presence. I turned to look at him. He was watching me.

I ducked my head, feeling kinda guilty for all the shit I'd put him through. "Ummm...I like this one," I admitted.

He nodded, pleased with himself. "Yeah. I thought you might."

I took a quick glance, side-to-side, over my shoulder. There was no-one about, so I put an arm around him and pulled him into me. "Thanks for...thanks, man. And...sorry about all the attitude, eh?"

He told me I could make it up to him later, and I told him sure, and we sat there some more, soaking it up. Other people came through and stood around taking selfies while blocking the view and fucking up the lines and the symmetry, but in between times it was still perfect...

"Hey, I got my fusebox replaced. Guy came round on Thursday arvo and did it."

I swung round to look at Reid, blinking. Again I'd forgotten he was even there - which was a bit rank of me seeing as he was the one who'd brought me.

Fusebox. Right, yeah. That nightmare wrapped in a disaster wrapped in a catastrophe. "Awesome," I said. "Hope whoever you found didn't sting you too bad."

"Nah, it was about what you told me it'd be. And it seemed like a pretty decent price for not dying in a fire, so, yeah...Anyhow, if you wanna come and stare at it sometime, offer's open..."

I nodded. "I could come tomorrow. Or this - actually, no, not this afternoon. My head's still a bit shit. I don't wanna do anything too active."

He didn't say anything in reply to that, but he did make a big show, an hour later, of trying to tuck me into my bed after he blew me, and we ended up kinda playfighting and spreading covers and clothes and pillows everywhere as we wrestled, and it wasn't until after he'd gone that I realised that Nick probably heard that. All of it.