Page 46 of The Lockdown Mann

How often has he done this? With how many men?

There’s something exciting about knowing I was his first. That all those years ago, this man knew he was bi, but his first experience with another man was with me.

He runs his hands up my thighs, then works open my button and zipper.

Des tugs my jeans down, taking my boxer briefs with them—my heavy, hard cock falling out. He doesn’t touch me right away, not until after he has my pants completely around my ankles, and then he slowly, so fucking slowly I think I might die, runs his hands from my calves up my thighs and then around to my ass.

“Please,” I beg, too gone for him to even be embarrassed by the need in my voice.

“I like to take my time.” He kisses one hip bone. “Explore.” Then the other. “Taste and tease and memorize.” Des nuzzles my balls with his nose, making my knees go weak. “You liked that. See? That’s what I’m looking for. That’s what I want to know. I want to figure out all the things you like, all the ways I can bring you pleasure and watch you lose control for me.”

“Next time,” I say, because there’s not a doubt in my mind that there will be a next time. That once won’t be enough. That’s all we had before, and while I was okay with that back then—I made my decision and knew it was the right one at the time—I don’t want to cut this short now until I’m ready.

I know it doesn’t mean anything. That Des and I aren’t anything more than friends…kinda friends…? People who know each other, respect each other, and are incredibly fucking attracted to each other. I’ve been given a second chance to see what else is out there, to explore and experience, but I don’t know that I’m the kind of man to do that with just anyone. That’s probably why I haven’t been ready to meet with GameOn057.

But for whatever reason, I feel comfortable with Des, so maybe he’s exactly what I need right now.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, instead holding my dick at the base, then wrapping his lips around me and taking me as deep as he can.

My body jolts forward, hips snapping on reflex as I thrust into his mouth.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I tell him, but it doesn’t seem to have bothered him at all. He’s digging his fingers into my ass, pulling me toward him, urging me on, so I take what Desmond is giving me, pumping my hips, watching my dick slide in and out of his mouth, watching him take as much of me as he can.

It’s fucking incredible, and like everything he does, Desmond is good at sucking dick. He swallows around me, works me with his throat, makes a humming sound that vibrates through me in the best way.

He takes over quickly, though, pressing me back against the wall and having his way with my dick. He licks, sucks, pulls off to treat my nuts to the same pleasure, before his mouth finds my dick again.

The pleasure builds inside me, higher and higher by the second. My hand still holds the back of his head, rubbing his short curls and the buzzed hair beneath.

My toes curl in my shoes, his mouth and hand working in unison, leading me closer and closer to the edge until I can’t handle it anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Des. Take your mouth off if you don’t want it.”

He looks up at me, lips stretched around my dick, and the motherfucker winks before he’s bobbing on me again.

I give a silent thank-you that he wants it, that I get to fill his mouth with my load, and then just let myself give in to the pleasure. The muscles in my thighs tighten, my body feeling like I’m free-falling as my orgasm washes over me.

I don’t take my eyes off him as I unload into his mouth, my dick twitching each time I shoot. Des swallows it all down, comes back for more, taking everything I have to give until he’s wrung my balls dry, and now he’s just licking the tip like he’s trying to catch whatever might be left behind.

I drop my head back, close my eyes, trying to wrap my brain around what just happened.

Desmond Jackson gave me a blowjob.

I just hooked up with someone, touched someone, let someone else touch me, and there’s a part of me that worries there’s something wrong with me because it doesn’t feel weird.

It feels right, and all I can think about is if I’ll get to taste him too.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Desmond

I kiss the tip of Oakley’s dick, the taste of him still fresh on my tongue, and tilt my head up, wondering what I’ll see.

He doesn’t look down at me, his chin tilted, head back against the wall. His eyes might be closed, but it’s hard to tell at this angle.

He’s fucking beautiful—all warm chestnut skin, muscles, what might be the prettiest fucking cock I’ve ever seen—and I’m scared to death he regrets this.

I don’t know what he’s got to be feeling, hooking up with someone who isn’t Serena. I’m sure that comes with a lot of mixed emotions. Hell, even the first time I was with someone after Kane, things felt weird, and our relationship was a lot shorter, with a different kind of commitment than what he has with Serena.