Page 4 of Fallen Rook

“One hundred percent. Been dying for this dick ever since I saw a picture of it.” He downed his drink in one go and grabbed my hand. I waited for a jolt of desire to strike me at the touch of his soft, sweaty hand, but no luck.

Calm down; that means jack shit. People didn’t get hard from holding hands. This wasn’t sixth grade.

Halfway out the door, Cash stumbled on his feet and crashed into me, grabbing my midriff and letting loose a careless giggle. I smiled down at him, wondering how shitfaced he really was. As much as I wanted to try this, I didn’t want to use some innocent dude who couldn’t see straight.

“Oops.” He giggled, “Silence” by Marshmello and Khalid booming in our ears drowning out his voice. Finally, we were in the alleyway, which was surprisingly secluded. I looked around for cameras. Found none.

He fisted my hoodie, stumbling into me. I righted him up. “Sure you’re up for it? Totally okay if you’ve had too much to drink. I can drive you home.”

Of course you can, my father mocked inside my head. You spineless little shit. Always the nice guy.

“I’m not even tipsy.” Cash’s sunny grin did nothing to brighten my mood. “Just excited it’s finally happening.”

“If you’re sure.” I pressed my back against the brick wall, wondering why the fuck my lungs were burning if my breathing was perfectly fine.

He dropped to his knees and pushed my Versace briefs down. My cock popped out like a jack-in-the-box. Deflated, but still impressively large.

“Holy shit.” Cash licked his lips, grabbing me by the root. “That’s some package you’ve got there. Looks even bigger up close.”

I grunted, waiting for anticipation to finally prevail over my anxiety. His hand on my dick felt strange. Unwelcome.

Cash started pumping my cock, trying to bring it to life, his touch rough and dry. When a few seconds passed and nothing happened, he added a tongue swirl across my crown. All I could do was stand there and watch in helpless frustration.

A guy was sucking my cock.

A cute guy was sucking my cock.

And I didn’t even have a semi.

What the fuck, dick?

So much for sexual awakening.

I was going to be so damn furious if it turned out I was just a straight man with a shitty-ass libido.

Although, not to make excuses, but Cash didn’t seem to be too good at giving head. Maybe it was his first time, too?

With a growl of irritation, Cash went to full-on sucking my limp dick. Another minute passed before he reared his head back, his harsh glare making my cheeks tingle with shame.

“Everything okay?” he asked through puffy lips.

I shook my head, dumbfounded by the anticlimactic situation. “Yeah, uh…sorry. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

I flinched at his words, though I kind of deserved them. He didn’t sign up for an hour-long blowie just so I could figure my shit out. “Sorry, man.”

“Just show me how you like it.” He pushed back on his knees.

I clasped his hand in mine and spat on his palm, then moved it across my dick with the same rhythm and pressure I usually used when I jerked off. It did the trick, and after a few strokes, my cock stiffened.

It reached full erection in about thirty seconds, and finally, Cash wrapped his lips around it and went to town.

I ran a hand over the soft buzz cut of his head, ignoring the hollow feeling growing inside me. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I felt bad tapping out now.

A dull thrum of satisfaction ran down my spine, but it was still missing that…something.

Glancing down, I watched as Cash fumbled in one of the front pockets of his jeans. I hoped he was jacking himself off, so at least he’d get some fun out of the experience. But after a moment, he took out his phone, slid his thumb across the screen, and angled the camera toward my dick.