The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

“Show me those balls, Chet.”

He lowered the cotton, releasing his cock so fast that it swayed in front of him. He made sure I was watching as he gripped himself. It wasn’t a calculated or overtly sexy maneuver. His almost innocent vibe clashed with the confident slide of his fist.

I like that contrast. A lot. I didn’t have much experience with men like Chet. He was an interesting combination of brilliant but cautious. He was a list-maker and a planner, not a “go by the seat of your pants” risk-taker.

Yet here he was—khakis around his ass, stroking himself like a shy porn star…if there was such a thing. His longish hair cascaded over his left eye sweetly, and damn, I itched to run my fingers through it. But I didn’t want to miss any bit of the show he was putting on for me. I couldn’t decide what I liked more…his intense, sex-hazed expression or his masterful technique as he brushed his thumb through the precum on the tip of his cock in small circles, pumping his cock rhythmically.

I opened his shirt for a better view, running my fingers down his chest and tweaking his nipples one at a time. Then I captured his mouth in a heady kiss and wrapped my fingers over his. Chet broke free with a gasp as he pulled his hand away to let me take over. No problem. I gave a damn good hand job, if I did say so myself. I swept my tongue between his lips again, devouring him hungrily.

We sucked, licked, and nipped at each other as if we were feasting on our final meal. I couldn’t get enough of him. He tasted like chocolate and mint tea, but his cock was a smooth steel rod, throbbing against my palm.

If my other arm wasn’t bound, I was sure I’d have two fingers in his ass by now and he’d be begging for me to—

He pushed away from the cabinets and fumbled with my belt. “Please, please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“You. Let me…let me suck you,” he gasped.

Chet was on his knees and my jeans were over my ass before I could protest. Not that I would have, but I had to admit, I hadn’t expected this.

That was an understatement. I assumed he’d come by, meet Linc, and lose interest in decorating my house when he realized holiday cheer was low to no priority for me. But he’d stuck around, and now his pretty mouth was inches from my dick.

I widened my stance to get a better look as he circled my crown, licking the underside of my length, sucking my balls. Fuck, that was nice. I raked my fingers through his hair and pushed his forehead back till he met my eyes. Whatever I was going to say suddenly didn’t matter when he smiled up at me…then swallowed me whole.

“Fuck,” I growled, fisting a handful of his hair.

I didn’t pump my hips or try to take over. He’d made it clear in his own way that he was in control.

Funny thing about me…I liked calling the shots—especially in the bedroom. Or in this case, the garage. But this man’s tongue was a gift from the gods. He licked, sucked, and swallowed in a tantalizing rhythm while fondling my balls and jerking himself.

My only job was to enjoy. Let me assure you, it was a spectacular show and damn, it felt good. But when his tempo faltered, I knew neither of us would last much longer. He must have sensed it too. Chet pulled off and sat back on his heels, pumping his cock feverishly. I did the same, studying his flushed cheeks as I watched his chest heave.

He was beautiful. Angelic and nasty and truly lovely.

“I’m gonna come,” he panted, shooting jizz over the garage floor.

That was it for me.

“Fuck, me too.” I squeezed my eyes shut and jacked myself in quick, feverish strokes. My balls pulled close, signaling sweet release.

“Do it. I’m ready.” Chet kneeled into position with his lips parted.

I blinked in surprise, but I couldn’t have held back if I’d wanted to. I grunted like an animal, bracing my right shoulder on the cabinet door as I came like a runaway freight train. And yeah, he sucked me dry, milking every ounce of cum from my balls.

It took me a minute to catch my breath. I hadn’t orgasmed that hard in ages.

“That was…wow,” I said, extending my hand.

Chet didn’t take it. “Yes, it was very good, but I made a mess. Do you have a towel or tissue or something?”

“Yep. Gotcha covered.” I redressed, then grabbed a workout towel from a nearby cupboard and handed it over.

He averted his gaze as he tidied himself. “Um, what should I do with this?”

I plucked the cum rag from his fingers, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at the Tesla, hoping to make him laugh. I could feel his growing angst and though I didn’t have answers, I wasn’t about to apologize. That was fucking hot.