Escort (Poofless)

358 30 54
                                    

Warning: This chapter is not for anyone who tries to avoid sexually semi-explicit content or bad fluff. Viewer discretion is advised.
----------

"Hey. Come here for a second," Preston says quietly, beckoning for me to follow him over to the side of the ski slope. The others went ahead quite a while ago, tired of waiting for him to slip, slide, and swear his way down the icy mountainside. I slowly coast after him, watching as he ducks under the orange banners roping off the sides of the slope and unsteadily coasts his way into the darkness. It looks like skiing at night might have been a good idea, after all. He has gradually become less snarky as the day has gone on, and now he is almost sweet.

"What happened?" I ask as he perches himself on the side of the slope, his ass sinking a good ten centimeters or so into the powdery snow. He checks around us to make sure nobody followed us before he reaches over and pulls my goggles up to my forehead, carefully brushing the stray snowflakes off of my face in an unexpected display of affection. He rarely does things like this in private, let alone in public. "Are you okay, man?"

"Fine. Everything's fine. I just wanted to thank you for being senpai AF."

"You know I don't mind..." He cuts me off by pulling me toward him by the collar of my ski jacket, the thick fingers of his gloves awkwardly running along the side of my bare neck as they leave trails of melting snow. His breath is soothingly warm against my cold skin and I just want to stay here, wrapped up in him. I don't notice him messing with my snowboard until I hear him click the locks off of the bindings and tug my boots out of the straps. He pulls away just long enough to drag his knees through the fluffy snow to position himself between my legs. He latches back onto me and runs his tongue over my wind-cracked lips while I rub his back through his jacket, wishing that I could somehow feel his hot, smooth skin underneath. He leans back away from me to detach himself from his snowboard and I wish I could save this image to the backs of my eyelids until the end of time. Seeing him in the faint glow of the lights from the ski slope, grinning at me with his deep brown eyes with the pure white snow filling the background... I could stay here forever, the rest of the world be damned.

"What's that look for? You spacin' out on me again?"

"No. I just really like what I see." He laughs and brushes the snow off of his gloves before he crawls back up to continue our kiss, but his hands are significantly lower than they were last time. He starts to play around with the zipper on my ski pants, and I give a snort of laughter as he fails over and over again with his clumsy gloves.

"Oh, shuddup." He strips his right glove off and runs his fingers along my thigh to find the zipper again, finally managing to force it down. It isn't until he gets his icy cold hand in my pants that I realize what a bad idea this might turn out to be. He snickers when I shiver at the sudden rush of freezing air and he makes it worse by pulling the whole thing out into the open.

"Holy shit. Do you want me to get frost bite down there, bro?"

"If you'd stop your screeching, I'd fix it." He looks pointedly at me before he slides his knees back so his face is level with my screaming, shrinking cock, and he raises his eyebrows at me as he slides it into his extremely warm mouth. It feels like he really is made out of lava. I laugh as he awkwardly sticks his cold, exposed hand deeper in my pants, squeezing my balls just to warm his fingers up. I should probably be grateful that he isn't pulling away to put his glove back on. I'm going to laugh if the one, lonely glove flies off down the mountain in the wind and he has to explain to the rest of the guys why he only has one glove now. You don't need to take your gloves off to snowboard. Between the heat, his hand, and his teeth, it doesn't take long before I am running my hands over the back of his neck, trying not to force his head down to take it deeper. Neither of us can deep throat, and the last thing I need is him puking on me and shunning me like a pariah for a week. I see my breath turning into fog around us and I can feel his warmth filling up all of the spaces that had been freezing in the winter air, the heat building up like a hot air balloon in the pit of my stomach. He moans around me, and whether it was because he is trying to tease me or because he is just as close, I can't tell. The vibrations reverberate through my body and I can't help myself – I need to make him mine again. He gasps and gives a small shudder as the sudden warmth fills his mouth, then he sucks on me until the pressure disappears and it feels like he is trying to pop my head off. For him still being so new to this, he's really good.

"You're a pretty fast learner, Preston." I regret saying anything when he pulls away and leaves me to suffer and swing in the bitter wind.

"I learn from the best." He smirks as he fights to get the freezing cold zipper back up, and he laughs as he watches me cringe, remembering all of the videos I had seen on YouTube of guys getting important body parts caught in zippers. He pulls on my arm to try to get me to get up to go with him, but I don't even bother trying.

"I honestly don't know if I can snowboard any more right now."

"Do I make your legs weak, Robbie?" He grabs my inner thigh and pinches me hard through the thick material of my ski clothes, snickering when I reflexively jerk away. I smack him gently on the shoulder and he responds by tackling me back in the snow and he laughs as he leans over me. He holds my shoulders down in the soft layer of snow and presses our lips back together forcefully, forcing a thick mixture of saliva and cum into my mouth. It tastes bitter and harsh, almost medicinal, yet oddly sweet from the hot chocolate he had bought at the top of slope while he waited for me to meet him. It isn't that I haven't tasted it before; everything is just better with him.

"You taste good."

"That was you, you derp."

"No, that was us. It was in your mouth." Apparently, me stating the obvious is too much for him because he pulls away with a bashful smile and a blush. I crawl out of my little pit in the snow while he tries to put his forgotten glove back on, reaching up to wipe the fresh snowflakes off of his cheek while he struggles not to look at me. It's funny, watching someone who is always so confident and bold shrink back in embarrassment. I lean over and kiss him again before I adjust his goggles for him and push him over on his ass so I can relock the bindings on his snowboard for him. I see Preston whip his head around when I move him, his mouth open as he gawks. I turn to see what he is looking at, and I see a security officer in a reflective vest leaning against the tree. I want to facepalm and disappear into the trees, but I don't think that is going to help.

"You again. You're starting to turn into a troublemaker. Were you filming this, too?" the guard asks with a familiar smirk, standing up straight as he crosses his arms. Preston is either going to laugh until he hiccups himself into tears, or he is going to be completely and utterly pissed at me for the rest of the trip.

"No, we don't do that kind of video."

"Either way, you know you can't do that here. Don't tell me you didn't know." Preston looks completely mortified and his eyes are probably on fire underneath his goggles. I want to hug him, but I have a feel that I would be soaring down the mountainside if I tried it. Just when he was starting to loosen up, this had to happen. "Come on, get your gear. I have to take you down to the bottom of the slope and escort you off of the course." The guard starts walking back toward his snowmobile, checking behind him to make sure we don't try to take off down the slope.

"Wait, are you banning us from the mountain?"

"Just until tomorrow afternoon, unless you break any more rules on the way down. What can I say? You make a cute couple." Preston groans and I elbow him to shut up. He slaps me a good one across the cheek with his still-not-on-glove and starts pulling me over to the snowmobile while I grab the boards, making sure that I will be sitting in front of him on the long trip down the mountain. I'm glad he isn't too mad at me, but I have a feeling that I am going to have a lot of red skin by the time we meet up with the others.

Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing ShitWhere stories live. Discover now