His skin was warm, his body rock hard. There wasn’t a single soft spot on him, no fat, just solid muscle. And he was full of ink: both his arms had full-sleeve tattoos, but that wasn’t all. He had a chest piece, tattoos on his neck, and over his shoulders, partway down his back.

If I wasn’t so damn horny, I might’ve wanted to study his tattoos more closely, but as it was I was more interested in his dick. It was fully hard, curving upwards, the piercings gleaming in the daylight shining in through the window.

He sat on the bed and I straddled his thighs, fingers brushing almost shyly over his cock, afraid I’d hurt him if I touched him wrong. Then again, he’d wanked himself off quite vigorously last night and that hadn’t seemed to hurt.

“Is it okay?” I asked as I wrapped a hand around his thick length.

“Mmm.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” I didn’t dare squeeze too hard.

He chuckled. “No, the piercings make everything better. Even so, I don’t think you could hurt me even if you really tried.”

I scowled up at him, but I knew he was right. He was so damn big compared to me, so fit. He could crush me if he wanted. He was a lot more intimidating than Alistair… yet I didn’t feel afraid when I was with him at all. If anything, he made me feel safe. He hadn’t done anything to hurt me. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to make me feel good.

“I want to suck it,” I whispered, gazing back down at his dick. It transfixed me. I had no idea what it would be like with piercings in the mix but I was dying to find out.

“Be my guest.” He leant back slightly, bracing his arms on the bed behind him.

I slipped off his lap and he spread his legs, giving me the space I needed in-between them. A clear, translucent bead of pre-come glistened at his slit and I licked it off. Salty. Mmm. His cock was a masterpiece waiting to be worshipped and I wanted to put all my skills to use doing just that—and I was good at sucking cock, I’d done nothing else for years until I felt ready to take a dick up my arse.

More pre-come glistened at his slit. I ignored it for now in favour of moving my hand between his cock and stomach, holding it loosely but firmly, and then I ran my tongue up the row of piercings. It was strange—the tips of the piercings were cool, quite different from the hot member they pierced.

He groaned, hips moving slightly like he wanted to buck up into my mouth, but he stayed still. I gave him what he wanted; wrapping my lips around the head, licking up the pre-come, and then slowly sliding down, taking his entire length in. The beaded tip of the Prince Albert piercing nudged the back of my throat, but I’d long since managed to overcome my gag-reflex. I’d had to—rather forcefully.

But this wasn’t forceful. Wynn stayed still, arse firmly planted on the bed. He didn’t fuck my mouth, didn’t grab my hair and force me to take his cock further or suck him faster. No, he didn’t touch me at all, just let me do exactly as I pleased. And that turned me on.

I reached behind my own legs to fist my dick while my other hand held onto his. I sucked him eagerly, loving the feel of the hot, heavy length in my mouth, on my tongue. Loving the taste of his salty pre-come, how it kept leaking, self-lubricating.

“Do you like to be fucked, Kasey?”

I looked up and he sat there, gazing down at me with half-lidded eyes. His breathing was heavy, his stomach muscles taut.

“Because I really want to fuck you,” he continued, voice low and hoarse and needy. “And if you continue what you’re doing, you’re gonna make me come.”

I let his dick go with a loud pop. Saliva and pre-come followed my lips from the tip of his cock, connecting us a little longer.

He brandished a condom packet in front of my eyes. “However you want it. You’re in charge.”

Why did he keep being so nice to me? He seemed like the type of macho guy who was always in control, yet here he was offering control to tiny little me. I knew what I wanted though—the same thing he did. I rolled the condom on his slick dick, he handed me a tube of lube, and I climbed back up to straddle his lap.

With a good amount of slick spread over my crack and over the condom, I braced my own hands on his shoulders as I rose up. I knew he was looking at me, but I couldn’t make myself meet his gaze as I positioned myself. I liked this part, I did, but it was still embarrassing to be watched so intently while I was the one doing all the work.

“Ahh,” I moaned as he breached me. “Oh, God!” It burned as his cock stretched my hole open. I hadn’t had sex in a while and whenever I had sex, it wasn’t often it included anal. But taking it slow was the way to go and I did. His piercings stuck out a little from both sides and I felt them as he slid into me too. I didn’t stop until my arse rested in his lap though.

I blinked my eyes open, not aware I’d even closed them, and found his face close to mine. His eyes were open, alert, and just as intense as they’d been earlier.

“Feel good?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for the answer as he busied my lips with a kiss.

I was full, but it was a good kind of full, and I moved my hips experimentally. Oh yes, this… “Ahhh!”

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips sliding feather-light over my own. “Let me hear your voice. Let me hear how much you love my dick in your arse.”

Now he’d made me aware of the sounds I’d made, I immediately clammed up. But I didn’t stop moving. No, I rose back up, slammed down, up again till only his tip was inside, back down so my arse cheeks slapped against his thighs. My thighs burned, this wasn’t a position I was usually in, and I faltered after a little while.

“Want me to take care of you?” His lips brushed my ear now, voice low, seductive.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, clinging to his shoulders as he grabbed my arse and quickly flipped us over. This was more what I was used to, being on my back, legs spread, with his weight on me, pushing me into the mattress, cock fucking me ruthlessly. I couldn’t even seem to catch my breath properly, the pleasure was so intense.

“How do you like it? Fast?” He kept up the ruthless pace he’d set. “Or slow?” Then slowed down, only rocking against me. How the hell am I supposed to choose just one? Both were good in their own way. “Or both?”

“B-both.” Definitely both. I couldn’t pick just one of them.

“Good.” And he quickened the pace again.

I didn’t know if I should cling to him or grab the sheets or cover my mouth. The sounds that left me were loud and wanton and definitely not me—but no one had ever asked me how I liked it either. No one had ever made sure sex was good for me. As long as guys had a hole to stick their dick in, whether a mouth or an arse, they seemed to be happy, for the most part.

Not Wynn. Wynn cared what I thought, what I felt, what gave me pleasure. And in the process he felt pleasure too. His hips snapped back and forth, cock thrusting into me in a fast, hard rhythm. But it wasn’t too hard, not too fast. It didn’t hurt. It was so good I didn’t know what to do with myself.

My legs, which rested over the crook of his arms, trembled. My toes curled. I grabbed onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life and pretty sure my fingernails dug into his skin, but it didn’t matter in that moment because it was so damn good—

And he slowed, rocking us gently, face buried in my neck, strong arms embracing me. I still clung to him, but not with my nails now, instead I wrapped my arms properly around him, one hand sliding up to tangle in his coarse, black hair.

I was still bent almost in half, with my own cock resting, forgotten, against my stomach, leaking pre-come.

“You feel good,” he murmured, breath fanning over my skin, giving me tingling goose-bumps. “So tight around my dick, so warm and pliant in my arms—” He did one long thrust with his hips, burying himself inside me, then went back to the slow, rocking rhythm he’d established.

My eyes had closed at some point, and I wasn’t in any hurry to open them. The all-consuming desire of the hard and fast fuck of earlier had been replaced by a more content, easy-going sort of desire. The sort where I could fuck like this all night, whereas earlier all I’d wanted was to get off right away—because it was all about chasing the orgasm then, whereas now it was all about prolonging it.

Wynn lifted his head off my neck, then his lips fastened to mine. Mine were already parted and he wasted no time diving his tongue into my mouth. It was a deep, but lazy kiss, and I sucked on his tongue, lapped my own over his lips, enjoying whatever he gave me.

Until he quickened the speed again, because then it was all about chasing my orgasm. He didn’t reach for my cock, however, and I was too busy clinging to him to bring myself off. Fuck it, maybe I’ll come without so much as touching my dick. That would be something.

“Ahh, fuck!” Wynn wrenched away, sat up on his knees, pulled the condom off and proceeded to stroke his cock, shooting almost immediately. One spurt landed on my stomach, right beneath my navel, the other in my pubes, and the last over my rock-hard flushed dick.

Wynn didn’t waste any time—as soon as he was done, he bent down and took my cock in his mouth, sucking me into wet heat.

A sound, something between a groan and a sob, left me. I grabbed his head, tangling my fingers in his hair and tried—I really did—to not force him to stay down. He seemed to get the message anyway, because he deep-throated me—

And I came with a shout.

He pulled off and stroked me through my orgasm, milking every single drop from me so it mixed with his own come on my skin.

I dropped my arms over my eyes, completely worn out and flushed and empty and heavy. And a little bit embarrassed because I’d made so much sound, but he didn’t seem to mind, so I tried to push that away.

His tongue ran over my skin, lapping up our come.

I let my hands flop to the bed and lifted my head slightly so I could watch. The pink muscle was slick with saliva and semen, and the tongue stud stood out in the middle of it, flexing as he lapped at the come under my navel.

My breathing took it’s time calming down, my chest rising and falling quickly. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of him eating our spunk—and at the same time I wished I could taste too.

I can though. “Wynn?”

“Hmm?” He flicked his gaze up at me.

“Come here.” I motioned for him to move up. “I want a taste.” Better say it so he didn’t swallow.

He grinned, that familiar wry grin, and crushed his lips to mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth, bringing with it the salty, bitter semen. I didn’t know if we tasted any different from each other and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that it was our come and we were sharing it and I’d never thought it would be so hot.

I loved sucking cock and I liked come—I’d gladly swallow if guys wanted to come in my mouth—but this… this was something else. In my experience, guys weren’t that keen on tasting their own come. Or mine. Yet here we were, sharing ours.

Our lips parted slowly, hesitantly. He caressed my face as he pulled away, nose rubbing against mine. “Who knew you were so dirty in bed, huh?” he murmured.

“Huh?”

He chuckled, deep in his throat. “Like I said, you always seem like a bundle of exposed nerves. When people talk to you, you tend to look like a deer caught in headlights.” He dragged his lips over my chin. “But now, during sex… damn.”

I stared up at him, not quite understanding. “You… you’ve been watching me?” It hadn’t just been last night? It wasn’t often I saw Wynn around the club when I was at work—so where could he have gleaned any sort of information on me from?

“Yeah, I’ve been watching you.” He met my gaze and held it, completely unapologetic. Then he dropped the bombshell, “I’ve been watching you ever since you started working at the club.”