Dirty Ties

The hard, heavy weight between us brushed against my exposed neck, coaxing a breathy rasp from my lips. “Yes.”

“You want to keep your face hidden?”

“Yes.”

He looked at the panel, his hands restraining the motion of my helmet. The floor dug into my knees, and my nerves volleyed between worry and excitement. He seemed to be waiting for something, and as the seconds passed, my worrying was winning out.

“What are—”

The overhead lights powered off, as did the panel of buttons. Pitch-black flooded the elevator. I blinked, shock locking my limbs as my breaths tumbled noisily through the dark.

“Does this resolve our dilemma?” His voice echoed around me, shivering my insides.

“Yes.”

“Yes. The answer to all of life’s problems.” Despite my grip, he yanked off my helmet and dropped it beside my knees.

Cool air tingled my cheeks as I jerked my chin to my chest, my shoulders bunching around my face. With the total absence of light, he couldn’t see me, and I couldn’t see him, but sweet Lord, I could smell him. Leather, a hint of soap, and the natural scent of his skin guided me toward his straining cock.

I kept my head down, gripped the hard muscles of his bare ass, and rubbed my cheek against his arousal. Pulsing heat gathered between my legs as my face and lips explored the steel of his cock wrapped in warm, satiny skin.

His hands slapped against the metal wall above me, his length growing harder, hotter against my mouth. With an eager lick, I swirled my tongue around the tip, the salty drip of pre-cum smearing over my lips.

He groaned, low and guttural, and his legs trembled beneath my arms. “Look at me.”

How did he know where I was looking? And why did he care? So he could turn the elevator back on? Or shine some kind of lamp— Shit! Didn’t he have a flashlight in his pocket?

Head down. Don’t look up. I curled my fingers around his length and drew him into my mouth. After a few teasing suckles, a nip of teeth, and a caress of his heavy balls, I dug in my nails and squeezed his sac.

He shouted, but it was thick with arousal and rumbled into a moan as I swallowed the full length of him. When he hit the back of my throat, I balled my left hand, squeezing my thumb, a trick to disable my gag reflex.

How long had it been since I’d done this without a condom? I didn’t care. Hell, I wanted to drag my tongue over every inch of his unwrapped body. I wriggled my head back and forth, rubbing his cock against the back of my throat.

His body shook, and his ass flexed in my hand. I fucking loved it, loved that I could affect him as much as he affected me.

Jesus, he was so thick, the head of his cock cut my air, watering my eyes. My throat wanted to convulse, but I tightened my fist, eased back a little, and breathed through it.

The sounds of his sharp, uneven inhales surrounded me. I sucked harder, faster, letting saliva trickle out so I could slide my fist through it, pumping with a tight grip around the head and lapping at the tip.

“Goddamn, I can’t…ff-fuuhh—” His words garbled into something inaudible, smothered by gasps.

He grasped the base of my braid, slid his hand to the rubber-band, and looped the tail around and around his wrist. The follicles bit at my scalp when he ran out of hair, his hold tightening against my head.

Bucking his hips, his movements staggered. He was close. I renewed my efforts, sucking with hard pulls, bringing him closer, closer, but I wouldn’t let him come. Not yet—

He yanked my head back by the braid. His cock slipped from my mouth, and I stared up into the dark expanse above me.

His breathing stopped. His body went rigid. The silence was deafening.

Dread crawled over me. I couldn’t explain it, but something was wrong.

He untwisted his wrist from my hair, yanking in his haste to disentangle it. “Put your helmet on.” His biting tone sped up my pulse.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

The sound of his zipper reached my ears with painful finality. A lump crept into my throat as I fumbled for the helmet. When I found it, I shoved it on and climbed to my feet, righting my pants. Had I done something to piss him off? Maybe he heard someone on the other side of the doors?

As I retraced the last few seconds, the lights flickered on and the doors opened.

No one was waiting in the garage. He removed the metal card and darted out as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

No explanation or good-bye. Not even a backward glance or a fuck you.

I zipped up my jacket, my chin quivering with shock and rejection. Maybe I stupidly hoped he’d come right back. Or maybe I wasn’t ready to confront the emotion burning up my cheeks, but I reached for the button to hold the doors open.