The Four

The Taste of Another

Kev
If I'd ever been drunk it was in the moment I broke from my box and kissed Judah. It was the intoxication that had me gripping his belt and dragging him to me. It was that glimmer of insanity that emotions brought that seeped from my lips in breathy moans as I ground myself against his hip.

He welcomed it, moving instead so that he could meet me with his. His thin sweatpants hung low and his shirt rode up as he gave a not so subtle thrust against the front of my jeans. The friction of his movement was electrifying.

My hands eagerly gripped the hem of his shirt and tore it up and over his head, forcing him to detach from the bruises he was decorating across my collar bone. I saw the same drunkness reflected in his eyes as he unfastened the bottom of my pants. He didn't seem shy nor worried about proceeding, only focused on keeping the momentum of the moment.

So when he drew my pants from my hip and pressed himself back against me, I knew then there was no escaping. Both him and I were too far gone to go back.

If I thought feeling him through my jeans was electric, then feeling him through only the thin layer of our boxers was explosive. I could feel the shape of him, could feel the shaft from the head as he thrusted it against mine with all the neediness I harbored in my trembling body.

His mouth greeted my voice, swallowing it whole in the hollows of his muscle bound chest.

I felt the heat of him throb in unison with mine. I felt the size of him overpower mine. I felt the intensification of pleasure as he pressed harder and thrusted faster. Then I felt the sudden difference of him being relieved from the confines of cloth followed by mine.

When his hand gripped me I nearly came, my voice crying out across his tongue.

"Not yet." He groaned, gripping my base tightly to keep me from busting.

My arms hooked hard around his shoulders as he lightened his grip and slowly began giving me gentle pumps of his palm. His tongue brushed against mine, his free hand wondering to the desk at our side. He was quick to heave me up onto it without much effort. I did my part by kicking off my shoes and pants from my restricted legs so that he could come between them. He groaned in appreciation, his fist thrusting harder down me.

"How does it feel?" His voice sounded rough, gravely in my ear sending a shudder down my spine.

I pressed my lips together, biting them shut. My arms trembled around him, my nails digging shallow graves into his skin.

He repeated himself, this time more forceful, his teeth pressing at my earlobe. My lips parted in a moan with the quickening of his hand. He had me trapped and he knew it.

Once again he gripped my base hard. So hard in fact it made me gulp, my eyes going big in the flashing red lights. I felt the draw of his teeth on my neck at the same moment his free hand gripped my swollen head. His thumb rolled over the gentle stream of precum oozing from the tip. I twitched in his hold, desperate to bust over the smooth muscles of his abdomen.

"I feel-" my voice cracked as tears swelled against my eyes. "I feel good!"

At this he began giving me rough strokes despite the restriction of blood flow. I felt the pressure build to an unbearable point. I thrust myself into his hand desperate to get off. The hand that bound me kept with me, refusing to release me as he took himself against mine and stroked us together.

"How good?" He moaned against my skin forcing a shot of piping hot cum to shoot from my swollen length onto his stomach.

I could feel it going purple, twitching and throbbing in his hold. I couldn't bear it anymore. It was too much, it felt so good that it hurt.