It felt like forever before he finally felt Dana’s slick tongue lapping at his balls, sucking one into his mouth while he held the base of Ford’s dick. He was so gentle and methodical it was painful. His orgasm wanted out. The inevitable climax that was hovering on the edge of a feeble cliff.
“Dana. Fuck, that feels so… Ohh.” Ford boldly spread his legs wider, encouraging Dana to suck harder, deeper. He ached so much.
“I knew you’d like that,” Dana moaned, sucking the other side of his sack next.
Ford did, he loved it. The moment Dana took the head into his mouth, Ford knew it was about to be over. His partner’s mouth was so warm and silky, he couldn’t fight it no matter how hard he tried. “Dana,” he growled in warning.
Dana didn’t stop. Going down as far as he could, Ford felt him breathing rapidly through his nose as he picked up the pace. He tried to count in his head to distract himself, to prolong the incredible sensations overtaking him, but he only made it to four one-thousand. Ford arched his back and called out again. “Fuck. I’m coming, Dana… Augh! Fuck!” Ford stopped holding back and let the sensations consume him. He’d completely forgotten what it was like when your orgasm wasn’t self-inflicted. It was a hundred times better.
Ford held Dana’s head in place while he emptied inside his mouth, feeling him swallow hungrily around him. He was still grunting and shooting when Dana’s mouth clamped down harder around his sensitive cock and a sharp grumble followed by a long moan cut over his own, sending a delicious vibration down his shaft to his balls. Dana didn’t stop his suction until Ford was milked dry.
Dana
Dana knew Ford’s natural aroma would blow his mind. He lay there with his forehead resting in the crook of Ford’s thigh and groin while he recovered from his own powerful orgasm. He’d come so hard he thought he’d explode from the inside out. It took him a minute to compose himself, but when he did, a cocky grin appeared as he surveyed his work. Ford was stretched out on his back, arms splayed out to his sides, legs gaped open, his limp cock lying against his hairy thigh and a serene look of satiation replaced his usual hard expression. Dana had put that look there.
He climbed up Ford’s body like he was a jungle gym. “Was it good?”
Ford slowly pried his eyes open and the sweetest, most beautiful smile spread his lips. “Kiss me again.”
He did.
When they finally stopped, Dana ran his fingers through Ford’s beard. “I knew this would be as soft as I thought it was.”
Though Dana was the one issuing compliments, he didn’t miss the admiration on Ford’s face as he stared back at him.
“Past your bedtime, old man?” Dana taunted, when Ford yawned.
“Brat,” Ford whispered in response, running his hand down Dana’s back. He stopped at the top of his ass, like he wasn’t sure if he should continue down there or not. After a few seconds, Ford’s hand persisted until his entire, rough palm was resting on Dana’s ass. He moaned to let Ford know he liked it.
It was getting late and they had to get right back on the grind in the morning. Since he hadn’t been invited to stay, it was about time for him to go. “I better head out and let you rest.” Dana looked at his watch. Shit. It was almost two. “Only got a few hours left to sleep.”
Ford got up and cracked his neck. “You could’ve stayed, Dana. Next time bring a bag with you.”
Dana jumped up with newfound energy. There was his invite. “Be right back.”
Ford watched, confused as Dana flung his shirt and pants back on, commando, and ran to the front door. He didn’t even bother with his tennis shoes. He grabbed his bag out of the trunk and darted back inside and down the hall. Ford was leaning back, resting on his elbows when Dana hefted his bag for him to see then dropped it on the floor beside the bed. “Done.”
Ford laughed. He really laughed for him and damn if that didn’t make the whole night worth it. Ford eyed him affectionately. “I got myself a fuckin’ Boy Scout.”
Brian
This was his life. Being disregarded and dismissed. He was voiceless. He sat there in his chair watching a rerun of America Ninja Warrior, trying not to think of the hot little number that’d slipped through his fingers tonight. It wasn’t the first time and it damn sure wouldn’t be the last. He grunted and flexed his throat, pissed at the minimal sound he produced. He’d been doing the therapy sessions and the exercises, but nothing was freaking working. He was still making the same small whimpers and hisses he’d been producing for the past year. Admittedly, that was progress from two years ago.