Games

11

With rough hands and a determined look, Oliver stripped himself of his clothes, sharp gaze raking over my body when he looked up and saw that I had also removed my pants, leaving my body bare, cock raised and hard. A playful smirk on his face, Oliver pressed his hand on the door next to my head, face centimeters away from mine.

"Tongue out," he said. I obeyed immediately, licking a line on his hand without any instruction when he raised it to my mouth. The look on his face told me that he hadn't expected me to know what to do, but it disappeared quickly as he leered at my confidence.

Without a second's hesitation, he wrapped that hand around my dick and began stroking me slowly, hand twisting up and down my length. I opened my mouth and moaned, staring straight at him through half-lidded eyes. Something about my look turned him on even more and he growled, pressing his forehead against mine and kissing me harshly, tugging on my lips with his teeth.

"I wish you could see how hot you look right now," he said in a sultry voice that sent shivers down my spine. Almost immediately after those words left his lips he was giving me a certain look that told me he was thinking something over. He then smiled, taking his hand off of me and instead grabbed my forearm, pulling me with him as he walked away. He stopped to grab a bottle of lube from his dresser drawer before continuing and tugging me into the bathroom connected to his bedroom.

Slamming the door behind us, he bent me over the large sink counter, my bare chest pressing against the cold countertop. I hissed slightly at the sudden temperature change, but I got used to it quickly. I looked up and met my own gaze, shaking my head to myself as I looked at Oliver through the large mirror in front of me. Fucking kinky bastard he is.

I felt his hands beginning to slide up my back, fingers scratching my skin as they trailed back down, stopping at my hips. He rutted himself against my bottom, cock teasing and sliding between my cheeks.

"Please Oli," I sighed, gripping the edge of the countertop with one hand and resting my head on the other arm. "I want you."

"You already have me, love," he smirked.

"I want you inside me, please. Want to feel you in me." I pleaded, flicking my eyes up to gaze at his reflection, watching his pupils dilate with lust. He grabbed the lube and poured a favorable amount onto his hand, running two slicked fingers over my entrance before placing that hand around himself and slicking himself up. He dropped the bottle carelessly on the floor and grabbed my arse, pushing himself inside until I was filled and his balls were pressed against me.

I let out a shaky breath and moaned, closing my eyes only to have Oliver grab a fistful of my hair and yank my head up forcefully. My back arched and my hands now held me up on the sink.

With my jaw slacked open, I yelped and bit my lip, closing my eyes when he began thrusting in and out of me slowly, slowly but surely picking up his pace until tiny echoes of skin slapping against skin reverberated around us and a constant moan left my lips.

"Keep your fucking eyes open," he growled, tugging harder on my hair and holding my hip with his other hand, the sweat already forming on my skin and making it difficult for him to get a set grip. I let my eyelids fall open and looked up at him, watching him bend over so that his chest was pressed flush against my back.

"See how pretty you look, Josh?" He said more than asked, nipping my jaw and kissing along my neck. "This is what I get to see every time I fuck you. You like watching yourself?"

I moaned out my reply, hissing and mumbling a "yes" to answer his question. My head fell into my forearm when he hit my prostate.

"Head up," he grunted, holding me by my shoulders and thrusting harder into me. Gasping and resting on my elbows, I did as he instructed and held back the louder moans that threatened to escape. It was late and my body was tired; this only intensified the feelings inside me. Every little touch, bite, and meeting of our hips felt a thousand times better than it usually did. Even after all these times I knew I'd never grow tired of Oliver; every experience like this with him was new and left me begging for more - well, at least until the next time.