Page 69 of From Coast to Coast
Hands on the backs of my thighs, he pushes my legs up and back. He’s stepped off the back of the couch now, and after the copious amount of gay porn I’ve consumed lately, I know exactly what he’s about to do. I replace his hands with my own, keeping my legs pulled back and my ass exposed to him. Shivers of anticipation race through me as he leans over to give me a quick kiss on the mouth before he kneels down on the floor and buries his face in my crack.
I’m blissed out—moaning and mumbling incoherently as he works his tongue into me, hands flattened on my abdomen to keep me from wiggling away.
“Holy shit, that feels so fucking good, so fucking good,” I repeat, sounding like the broken record of rimming. I can’t tear my eyes away from his dark head between my legs and his long, white fingers on my stomach. He flicks his eyes up to meet mine and continues fucking me with his tongue. I tell him again in case there is any doubt: “That feels so fucking good.”
Minutes later—or perhaps hours, I have no goddamn idea—he leans back and kisses his way up my inner thigh. It’s sweet, especially given the fact that he was just giving me a first-hand experience on just how many nerves there are in my ass. I thought I felt incredible after being edged,but apparently that was nothing compared to rimming. If he kept that up any longer, I was going to come without any contact on my painfully hard, and painfully lonely dick.
“That felt so fucking good,” I tell him, because I’m not sure he heard me the last dozen times I said it. He’s still kissing his way slowly up my body. I let my legs go and open them up as widely as I can, trying to accommodate his massive frame. Touching the top of his head, I slide my fingers through his hair, still damp from our swim. “You going to come up here and kiss me?”
“Sure, if you want me to,” he says, as though there is any possibility I wouldn’t want that.
“Come here,” I instruct. “And best not touch my dick right now, because I don’t want to come until you’re pulverizing my insides and I’m dangerously close right now.”
He laughs, and is still laughing when he kisses me. He doesn’t taste like ass or even like mayonnaise. He just tastes like Grayson.MyGrayson.
“You’re a bit of a cock slut, you know that?” he murmurs, only breaking our mouths apart enough for the words to escape. I smile into his mouth and pull him back in.
“I really am,” I agree, patting his butt with my free hand. “You’ve converted me. Once you go Gray, you never go back, as they say.”
“As they say, yes.”
He sits up enough that there is room for us to smile goofily at each other for a second. I pat his butt again to let him know that my dick has relaxed enough for him to put his inside me.
I lie there essentially boneless as Grayson situates us. Like usual, I’m perfectly content to let him take the reins and lead. He pulls me right to the end of the couch, and becausewe’re on the end piece of the sectional, there’s still plenty of room for him to kneel, legs spread wide between mine. My feet are once more hooked around his back and his body is cradled against my hips.
“I’m glad I paid extra for this kind of couch,” I tell him, leaning up to chase his mouth.
“Had this in mind, did you?” he asks, two lubed fingers sliding slowly in and out of me as we kiss lazily. Every time his scruff scratches across my cheeks, a zing of pleasure shoots through me. I squirm as much as I’m able with so much of him on top of me and his fingers inside me. I’d like for him to hurry the hell up, but I know if I ask, he’ll just go slower.
When he deems me prepped enough, he steps one leg off the edge of the couch and holds my hips in a firm grip as he pushes inside. One perfect, slow glide and I can feel every inch of him in me. Fucking heaven.
He gives a few shallow thrusts, watching my face for any sign of discomfort. When there isn’t any, he dispenses with the care and gives us both what we want. With one hand planted on the couch near my shoulder and the other clamped around my hip like a vise, he pounds into me. Arching up, I groan my approval.Yes, yes, yes.
When I start sliding across the couch cushion, he moves to adjust his hands.
“Hold me down,” I request suddenly, unsure of where the words even came from. Grayson groans, leaning down to kiss me roughly, scruff abrasive on my chin.
He pushes my hands above my head, overlapping my wrists and wrapping his larger hand around to hold me in place.Oh hell yes,I think desperately, arching my hips upward as he begins to fuck me in earnest. I squeeze mylegs around him and use my heels on his lower back to angle my pelvis as high as I can. The only thing I can think—with him above me, beautiful blue eyes intent on mine and sweat beading on his forehead—isdeeper, deeper, deeper.
Grayson comes first, hips snapping forward frenetically and his eyes fluttering closed. I strain against his hold, mindlessly trying to reach out and touch him, but he keeps me pinned to the couch as he fucks me through his release.
“Gray,” I moan. “Grayson.”
He leans down and kisses me hard, pushing my head back into the cushion. Our kisses are rough—desperate—as he wraps the hand not holding my wrists around my dick and starts to stroke. I writhe beneath him, balls drawing up tight as he brings me closer and closer to release. I want to touch him so fucking bad.
“Oh, fuck.” Cum splatters across my abdomen that Grayson so recently licked clean. He continues stroking, dick still lodged inside me, and hand holding mine prisoner. I’m not sure I could move even if he wasn’t still holding me down. I don’t even want to.
He touches me until my cock goes soft in his hand. Another kiss, this one gentler, and he releases my hands. Immediately, I reach for him and reacquaint myself with the softness of his hair. There’s really no way for us to lie here comfortably, and Grayson still has one foot on the floor.This is the problem with sex in random places. I want to fall asleep wrapped up in his chest hair, but we still have to walk upstairs.
“Think you can carry me up to bed?” I ask, only half kidding. He chuckles, shifting his hips backward until he slides out of me. As always, I feel bereft.Cock slut, indeed.
“I could,” he says.
“Better not. Throwing out your back right before the playoff race starts probably isn’t wise.”
He snorts. “You’re not that heavy.”
I do end up making it upstairs with the use of my own legs, but barely manage to give myself a cursory cleanup before I crawl into bed. Grayson takes a little longer, before flicking off the light. I listen for his footfalls as he crosses the room toward me. Something about the way the mattress tilts as he slides in next to me has my throat feeling tight with emotion. The moment he gets settled, I crowd into him, maybe not wanting to cuddle all night, but definitely wanting it right now. Grayson is like a human furnace, and I’ve got a definite chill after the sweat and saltwater has dried.