Page 70 of Dangle

“If I ask and you don’t answer?”

“That’s a yellow to check in.”

“Perfect answer, baby boy. If we stop or pause, it isnotbecause you did anything wrong. Understand?”

“Yes,” he gasped.

“Yes, who?” I pressed.

He gulped; his heavy-lidded eyes stared into mine without a twitch of doubt or hesitation. All I found in those soulful, blue eyes was lust.

“You, sir.”

“Hmmm. You were made for this, boy. Do you realize that?” I asked, pressing my denim-clad dick into his cotton-covered hardness while I tasted his lips with tiny sips.

He whined, “You’re being filthy.” The sound tore me up. “And mean.”

My face morphed. The look Ewen always called predatory stretched and twisted my face. My hand came up, and I warned, “We haven’t even scratched the surface yet.”

“Do your worst,” he dared.

I chuckled. Even to my own ears it sounded diabolical. “Do you think my cock’s going to fit in your sweet little hole?”

“Fuck,” he moaned.

My hand traveled around his waist to his ass. His cock jumped in his underwear. Then he said, “Please.” His voice trembled so much that the word came out shaky as hell.

“Get rid of that shirt,” I said.

He pulled it off so fast that he got tangled in it for a moment. I left him to struggle while I continued tracing the crack of his ass through his briefs, pressing the fabric between the cheeks of that glorious, hockey, bubble butt. The moment his head popped free, I yanked my folding pocket knife from my pants and flipped it open. His eyes grew round, his mouth falling open.

“Trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m sure all serial killers say the same thing.”

I laughed as I slid the knife’s blade along his briefs, fraying the fabric. Flipping the knife closed, I tossed it onto the counter, then grabbed his underwear, pulling it until…

RIIIIPPP!

The sound of fabric tearing echoed around us. “Now I can play,” I said, slipping my fingers between his cheeks. My fingertips danced around his rim. Tapping. Rubbing. Swirling. But always,always, pressing against the dry, puckered flesh. He was too dry to enter. I wouldn’t risk hurting him. In the future, when I knew how much he could take and what he enjoyed, when I knew his body as well as I knew my own, then and only then would I risk it.

While I played, I grabbed his face, squeezing his lower jaw between my thumb and fingers as I held him in place. He gasped and moaned and groaned. His litany blended together like music. Really great music with that beautiful dance of give and take that fed your soul. That changed you to the core. Trey’s responses did that for me. They wove their way inside me. They took up residence in the nooks and crannies, and I found myself becoming addicted. Each new sound joined with its repeated brethren, and together they fed my need until I craved the next one, physically pleading with whatever spiritual being out there listening would make sure I never went without again.

“Fuck, I bet this hole is a work of art. It’s twitching and pulsing already. Do you realize that, Trey? Do you realize your asshole is begging for me? He wants filled. He wants my cock.”

A long, slow, drawn-out moan accompanied by tremors that ran along his body left him trembling in my arms. I had him right where I wanted him. Kissing him, my tongue plunged deep, fighting with his. Advancing when he became frustrated. Retreating when he got greedy.

When I pulled away from his mouth, I said, “Look at me.”

His lust-drunk eyes met mine—heavy-lidded, slow-blinking, pupils blown wide, encircled by the thinnest ring of his iris. When I knew I had his attention, I detailed exactly what I had planned for him. “I’m going to split you in half with my cock,boy. Then I’ll pound your ass so long and so hard you’ll forget your motherfucking name. All you’ll be able to say is ‘Yes, sir,’ and ‘More, sir.’ You’ll fucking beg to cum. But I won’t stop. I’ll keep fucking you until screams are the only thing coming out of your beautiful damn mouth. And I still won’t stop. Not until I have you drooling and crying with snot running down your gorgeous fucking face. And then,” I ravaged his mouth before continuing, “Only then will I let you come. I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll milk my cock until my nuts fucking hurt.”

“Holy shit,” he gasped, his eyes rounding even more.

“But first,” I whispered against his mouth, slipping my tongue between his lips, retreating whenever he tried to engage. “I’m going to suck your cock.”

I dropped to my knees, taking his cotton boxer briefs as I went, leaving them lying on top of the jeans still pooled around his ankles. The dark color hid the wet spot well, but nothing could disguise the cock leaking like a faucet once it popped free. The long length of him shone in the kitchen light and the sun streaming through the windows. Swooping in, I swallowed him whole, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat. He jerked. His tip pressed upward, gagging me.

“Holy fuck, shit…that…fuck…that feels so fucking good,” he groaned, his fingers burrowing through the long strands of hair atop my head.