Tank leaned forward to watch, but his breath had already quickened, making glee flare in Drake. He was the cause of Tank’s excitement. And he had the upper hand, despite being on his knees.
“Right now, you’ve only got one job,” Tank rasped.
“And what. Will. I. Get. In. Return?” Drake asked, punctuating each word with a lick to Tank’s balls. The sweaty skin reminded him of what Tank had risked to see him tonight, and he met his gaze, sucking one of the large nuts into his mouth while his hand tirelessly worked on the hard cock.
Tank grunted, his gaze getting blurry. “Happy to return the favor.”
Pleasure took hold of Drake’s cock, and he hummed around the sensitive flesh before taking in the other globe. Tank’s dick was already seeping pre-cum onto Drake’s fingers, so he only sucked on the ball for a couple of seconds before lapping his way up, all the way to the tip.
“Yes,” Drake whispered when the saltiness spread on his tongue, and he took his time teasing the head while his gaze darted up to meet Tank’s. He knew how to recognize the signs of lust, and being the source of it was one of his biggest turn-ons.
Where Clover was slender, easy to carry and manhandle, Tank was packed with muscle and his pecs were so impressive Drake wanted to give Tank’s nipples a squeeze just to see them twitch.
“Oh, yeah. Show me what you’ve got,” Tank huffed, rolling his head from side to side, and Drake couldn’t help the satisfaction of seeing him so restless when it was usually Tank who called the shots.
He would show him. He’d make Tank lust after his lips throughout his lonely nights, and occupy his sexual dreams forever.
Without thinking much, he opened his mouth wide to accommodate the girth and lowered himself over the length, without ever breaking eye contact. Shivers danced on his back when the thick flesh passed through natural barriers in his throat, but he relaxed, eager to showcase his abilities.
The cry of pleasure from Tank was all the praise Drake needed. His new lover thrashed in the chair, squirming as his legendary self-control went out of the window—all thanks to Drake’s throat.
“Fuck yes. Fuck yes!” Tank panted, and just seeing him in this state had Drake’s own dick throbbing for touch.
He squeezed his lips around the base and then withdrew, until the cockhead left his throat and twitched on his tongue. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked on the salty flesh, ignoring his own arousal in favor of giving Tank one hundred percent of his attention. His lips and hand moved up and down the column of flesh, his tongue teased it, discovering the most sensitive of places, and once Tank settled into this easy rhythm, Drake deep-throated him again.
There was something weirdly satisfying about being able to do that. To just open up to the man he wanted and offer him something he wouldn’t do for just anyone. So he listened and watched Tank’s body, adjusting to his reaction to first pull him toward orgasm, only to prolong the pleasure by changing something in the rhythm.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tank whined. “You really are good at this. If you make me cry I’m gonna beat you up.”
Drake could have laughed at the empty threats if he didn’t have a cock all the way down his throat. He didn’t remember ever seeing Clover give Tank such thorough head. It wasn’t a question of which of them was better or worse at it, but Tank could definitely sense the difference in style.
With Clover, Tank would grab at the boy’s hair, then fuck his mouth until Clover gagged and drooled all over the place, which was hot in its own right. But with Drake, Tank wasn’t in charge. This was Drake’s stage, and he wasn’t wasting a minute of his moment of glory.
Tank’s thighs trembled, his hips thrust into Drake’s waiting mouth, and when everything grew more erratic within a couple of seconds, Drake knew what was coming. He pulled himself up just in time to taste the fresh cum erupting on his tongue. There was greed to his hunger for its flavor, but he didn’t care whether this was embarrassing when he longed to swallow it all.
The cock started softening once Tank relaxed, and Drake rested both his hands on the firm thighs, leaning up to kiss Tank’s mouth, which felt parched from moaning.
Tank, the guy who had four inches on him and weighed fifty pounds more, had been reduced to shivering goo by the powers of Drake’s mouth. Drake hadn’t known what he was doing when he’d entered this room, but the situation had completely flipped.
Tank stared at him, much more pliant in the kiss than he had been before, and there it was, a tiny bit of wetness in the corner of his eye. Drake couldn’t be prouder.