The Heartbreakers

His skin feels smooth against my lips but it incases rock hard, defined muscles that he uses to control his body when he flies in a wingsuit, whether he’s jumping from an aircraft or from a landmark or fixed object.

I kiss down the vertical line that runs down the side of his six pack of abs, letting my tongue wander over to the side, to that V of muscles that points down to my target.

I’ve always found it ridiculous when women refer to a man’s abs as “lick-able” but I love the feel of his muscles under my mouth, so I guess I’m converted to abs licking from here on out.

His eyes are following my journey down his perfect body, as his breathing picks up speed and the muscles of his lower abs tense up in anticipation when I finally make it to his dick.

Peyton is shaped differently than Channing, at least judging by the dick pic I’ve been studying on and off all day. He’s less round, the vein that runs on the underside of his shaft, the one that look like a “bone” is more pronounced, giving him an almost triangular shape.

I could turn and make sure I’m right, since Chan is sitting a couple of feet behind me, gloriously naked—he removed his clothes despite being on a “time out”, probably in the hopes that his friends will eventually allow him to play—but I’m pretty sure that if there is a blowjob 101 type of etiquette, turning to look at another man’s dick while you’re about to go down on someone is a faux-pas if I ever saw one.

I lick my lips, drawing closer to the pink, smooth skin of his tip and I dart out to touch it with the tip of my tongue. I approach his dick the same way I get into the water when I go swimming, gradually to get used to the temperature of the water.

Damn, that skin is as smooth and soft as it looks. I give him another lick, this time more confident, swiping my tongue over the little hole on the top. The skin there flushes a darker pink as I lick it and his dick twitches, throbbing around the base.

I explore him, my nerves now a little more at ease, as my curiosity takes over.

My tongue reaches the edge of his cock head, twirling around it a couple of times, until I find the courage to take him into my mouth.

“Hmm.” He exhales as I swallow him down until he’s touching the base of my tongue.

It’s a good “hmm,” confirmed by the fact that his cock gets even harder, if possible.

I glide my mouth up and down a couple of times, in sync with his breathing, trying to use my tongue to lick his underside and experimenting by adding a light suction.

It’s my first time doing this, but I know the theory of it; the afternoons spent with Sarah and Kiara googling blowjobs our freshman year of high school are finally paying off.

My hair is moved away from my face as Peyton collects it on top of my head. He isn’t applying any pressure or pushing me down and I enjoy the feeling of his fingers tangled into my hair.

I get into a steady rhythm, swirling my tongue around his crown every time I reach his tip.

“Snow,” he drawls, his voice deeper, thicker than before. “Right there. Lick me right there,” he says when my tongue passes a particularly smooth patch of skin at the front, right under where his splits, leading to his small opening.

I do as I’m told, enjoying how soft and smooth his skin feels there and sucking slightly when things get too sloppy.

My fist is still tightly closed around the base of his shaft and I begin moving it up and down his length when Peyton’s hips begin moving to meet my tongue a little more, a little faster.

“Oh fuck, right there Len. Fuck, please.” He moans and he gets harder, so hard that I didn’t think it was physically possible. “Don’t stop, Lenley, please don’t fucking stop.”

And you know when someone tells you not turn to look at something and the first thing you do is ... to turn and look at what you aren’t supposed to look at?

Yeah, that’s exactly what my first instinct is when he says “don’t stop.”

Mesmerized by how hard it is and intent on tasting the sudden hint of saltiness on his tip, I take my mouth off of him, to lick my own lips while my hand keeps stroking Peyton’s rock-hard shaft.

“Hmm.” I moan, moving Peyton’s cock toward his own stomach with the intention to get a better position to lean in and get more of that salty stuff.

“Len, I—”

There’s a request in his voice, I don’t know what exactly.

Suck harder? Jerk me faster? Or maybe take me into your mouth because I’m about to come?

I’ll never know, because there’s an explosion as a rush of white fluid comes out of Peyton’s tip, hitting the lower half of his face.

I watch in total fascination as spurt after spurt comes out of him. It’s just a second, because Peyton closes his own hand over mine, shifting to avoid getting more cum on his own face.

“Shit, sorry!” I yelp, closing my mouth over the top of his dick and feeling his salty release starting to hit my tongue.

I lick and suck every last drop, until nothing else comes out of him.

There’s a strange expression on his face when it’s over; satisfaction is definitely there but it’s mixed with shock. Jameson and Channing are laughing hysterically.

I guess if there was some kind of blowjob etiquette, not directing the dick to the face of the man you’re blowing right when he comes, would be rule number one.

“Peyton, I’m so sorry!” I say, jumping on his lap and cleaning his lips and chin using my fingers and my mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” Peyton chuckles between kisses, once I’ve cleaned up the mess I just made. “Believe it or not, Snow, this is the first time I’ve tasted my own jizz.”

He doesn’t sound angry and that helps with my embarrassment. “I guess we both had a first time then.” I smile.

Peyton chuckles, as he gives me a soft peck on the lips. “Right. You can swallow or spit, I won’t be offended if you decide to spit, but I think I’d rather not repeat the experience next time.”

There’s no heat in his tone, so I don’t take offense. “I don’t know about you, but I like the way you taste. Salty, with a sweet aftertaste.”

He laughs. “Sure. Glad you liked it, because for a first attempt at a blowjob, that was great. If we don’t count the way it ended.”

Peyton chuckles, as he gives me a soft peck on the lips. “

“Right. Sorry,” I say, suddenly more embarrassed by my clumsiness than by the fact that I’m naked in front of three—hot—guys.