Hey, sorry this chapter has taken so long. Life inevitably got in the way of this one, I'm afraid. I do hope you enjoy it though and it's what you've hoped for.
~~~*~~~
"Oh God...Ares...we should stop..."
"We
should
but we
won't.
"
I've got him pinned against the mirror, arms around my shoulders, legs wrapped around my waist; face a myriad of unspent ecstasy. We're
supposed
to be buying him new trousers for our visit to his parents. However spying him behind the curtain, trousers around his ankles, boxers moulded to his tight arse was temptation too great to resist. Lunging at him, I divested him of his boxers, mine swiftly following suit, and laid claim to his mouth. Making sure not to part with his luscious lips, I hoisted him up by his arse and began smearing the evidence of my arousal onto his anus. With both of us gasping and moaning into each other, I breached him quickly, filling him in one stroke.
"Fuck!" He exclaimed, pulling away from my mouth and burying his face in my neck.
"You'd better be quiet." I warned, breathlessly, bringing his face to mine and licking at his lips. "The assistant will be back in a second."
His only response was to let out a muffled groan as I ran the pad of my thumb over the head of his cock. Now, watching his face carefully, I thrust into the tight heat of his arse relentlessly, finding the angle that brings him the most pleasure. When his teeth sink into my neck and he lets out a loud whimper, I smile in satisfaction. Breathing harshly, I stroke myself in and out of him with deep, frenzied thrusts. Maintaining this angle, I enjoy watching him undulate as his sphincter spasms pleasurably on my cock. Eventually my incessant battering of his arse coupled with the ruthless strokes of my hand upon his sensitive flesh, catapult him into orgasm and I feel his legs tighten their hold on my waist. Small crescent moons will I bear later in commemoration as his nails sink into my back and he shudders uncontrollably. So caught up is he in spraying us with his load, that he forgets all pretence of silence, moaning long and hard. Though the sound brings me tantalisingly close to the edge, I don't want the assistant partaking in our orgasms, so I jam my hand over his mouth. He bites into my palm and immediately I convulse, orgasm consuming me and filling my veins. Quickly I release his legs, just in time to push him to his knees and paint his face with my pleasure, marking him as I have so often, as mine.
Eyes and face glazed, the latter with come, the former with pleasure, he looks at me.
"And what may I ask was wrong with my arse?" He questions softly, looking at me from beneath those long, dark lashes so at odds with his hair and fair complexion, tormenting me again with the tantalising way he's smearing my come onto his fingers and into his mouth.
I haul him to his feet, refraining against slaking my fresh desire for him and gruffly reply, "Didn't want to ruin your jeans."
He grins knowingly and I can't resist pushing my fingers into his hair and pulling him closer to me, crushing a bruising kiss to his lips.
"You need cleaning."
Sweeping my tongue over his face, I clean up what he's missed until he once again resembles his former spotless self. I leave the changing room as he retrieves his boxers. Glimpsing the mirror; smudged and cloudy with our sweat I smirk smugly. The assistant returns with the smaller sized trousers Tyler requested just as I close the curtain behind me. He raises an eyebrow in suspicion.
"He needed help." I smile winningly.
Tyler chooses that moment to come out of the changing room, hair dishevelled and lips swollen. I observe the assistant as he takes in Tyler's current state, and then watch as his eyes travel behind him spotting the damp mirror. His raised eyebrow makes an impressive dash towards his hairline and my smile increases a few mega-watts.
"Your trousers." He addresses Tyler, pointedly.
Tyler notices my grin and the assistant's sceptical expression. I watch his face turn an interesting shade of red before he practically grabs the trousers, mumbling a barely audible "thank you", and darts back behind the curtain. The assistant mutters a "help, indeed!" and I just manage to stifle my laughter. Eventually Tyler settles on the smaller pair of trousers and we leave the store. I offer the assistant a wink as we exit and take pleasure in his slightly outraged expression.
"That was mortifying." Tyler groans as make our way home.
"Yeah but it was fun though." He smiles, half convinced. "Ah come on, it wasn't that bad. He probably didn't even realise." I try.
"
Sure.
And anyway, you're supposed to be on your best behaviour after the housing incident."
I huff. "It's not my fault they didn't have a sense of humour."
He shoots me a look similar to that of the assistant. I grimace, remembering the episode vividly. I'd been having this tit-for-tat joke playing thing with this guy who lived in the same hall as me. He'd managed to convince people I had crabs by putting itching powder in my swimming trunks. It had taken
weeks
for me to repair the damage that little stunt had done to my reputation.
So
, being that he's a raver and often likes to come back at two in the morning with a penchant for making scrambled eggs, I thought egging him would be the perfect punishment. Unfortunately laying in wait in the darkness of the kitchen proved not the best of ideas as when the door opened and I sprung forth hurling eggs by the second; I didn't see that instead of hitting my intended target I had accidentally waged egg war on the lady sent to inspect our kitchen.
Although
, I did put forth the extremely logical argument that inspecting someone's kitchen at two in the morning wasn't exactly smart. Unsurprisingly, that thought did me no favours. As a result I was removed from halls and had to find accommodation in the private sector. Embarrassing as it was, it was highly useful when it came to repeatedly seducing Tyler and making him scream. No one to hear and no one to complain.
Hurriedly, I decide to change the subject. "So you must really like me if you want me to meet your parents."
"Well, I didn't have a choice really."
I try not to look offended. It doesn't work. Tyler notices immediately and smiles.
"Don't look like that. What I mean is that I was on the phone the other day." He pauses. "Remember when you were cooking?" I nod in affirmation. "Well, my mum asked me where I was because she could hear you singing in the background so I told her. Then she kept asking questions and once my mum latches onto something she won't let it go. So anyways she managed to wheedle information out of me as she always does and I told her about you and basically she kept on and on about it until eventually I relented and agreed to come for dinner." He looks at me beseechingly. "It's not that I don't want you to meet them, it's just that I wanted to keep you to myself a little while longer before you met them and decided to run for the hills."
I laugh, highly amused. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll love them and plus I'm gonna have to work hard to convince them that I deserve you too."
He lets out a snort and imparts sarcastically. "That should be fun. I can't wait."
We reach his place and I smile, watching his long, tapered fingers handling the keys to open the door. Closing it behind us, I wait for him to drop his bags.
"Speaking of waiting I think I could convince
you
some more." He raises an eyebrow and I flash him a carnal grin.
"Well I suppose..." He starts slyly. "While we're waiting..."
I begin divesting us of our clothes, both of us laughing and kissing as we steer toward the bedroom, haplessly falling in a tangle of limbs onto the bed.
~~~*~~~
The day of reckoning arrives and I'm a little nervous but still excited at the prospect of meeting Tyler's parents. Tyler on the other hand seems tense. At his flat, I find him in a state, cursing everything from the too hot cup of tea to the too small overnight bag. I manage to coax him into his t-shirt and at the same time reassure him that his packing skills are just fine. We're making progress and he's calmed down significantly until his trousers decide to play hide and seek. Tyler almost loses it. I've never seen him so angry or annoyed before. Instinctively recognising that his imploding is imminent by the tight set of his jaw, the turbulent eyes and the ominous clenching and unclenching of his fists, as not being good signs, I decide to further intervene. Silently leading him to a chair, I make him sit down. Parting his legs and kneeling between his thighs, I tug at his boxers.
"Ares, we really don't have ti-"
"You need to relax. Lift your arse."
"We don't-"
"
Now
."
He obeys wordlessly, lifting his arse, allowing me to relieve him of his boxers and pull him to the edge of the chair. He tries to argue again but it dies on his lips when I begin tonguing his balls. He lets out a blissful groan. Stroking my fingers along his smooth thighs, I take care to feather my fingers over the sensitive crease where hip meets thigh. I can sense his body slowly relaxing; feel the tension dissipate as he slumps against the chair, fingers stroking lazy patterns in my hair. Moving my mouth from his fair globes, I replace my fingers at his creases, tonguing each lovingly, and listening reverently to his ever louder groans. Despite my earlier commanding tone I allow him to dictate the pace.
Tugging at my hair he pulls me away from my current preoccupation and forces my head into his crotch. I lick surreptitiously at the dew leaking from him before making eye contact and swallowing the rosy tip. His eyes already hooded from pleasure flutter shut and his jaw slackens. Sucking hard at him, I descend on his thick shaft, torturing him with the wet, heat of my tongue. Pushing further until he's down my throat, I reach the curly thatch of hair, fragrant with his arousal. Reaching my hand up, I push two of my fingers into his open mouth, revelling in his lips and tongue as they wrap around them, coating them with saliva.
Moving more rapidly I let him vault my mouth up and down his length, enjoying the hot hardness and the sensual sucking of his own mouth on my fingers. Eventually I pull my hand from his mouth and brutally shove the slick digits into his warm, buttery arse. He screams gutturally, eyes shooting open, back arching; pushing more of that wondrous thickness down my throat. Offering him no respite, I curl my fingers over his prostate, tormenting him, pushing for a harsh and explosive climax. My free hand curves into the small of his back, pushing his groin into my face, the entirety of his cock buried in my throat. Rhythmically contracting my oesophagus and roughly manipulating his prostate causes him to explode ferociously. Continuing to abuse his prostate, I move my lips over the head of his cock, suctioning greedily. Fingers in my hair command me back, forcibly pushing my face down so I can again devour his cock to the root. Eventually his fierce shuddering comes to a halt. My mouth cleanses him then releases his shaft and before I can fully react, he slides bonelessly off the chair into my lap. I wrap my hands around him and stroke the blaze of his hair.
"Are you relaxed now or do I have to do that again?"
He buries his face in my neck and I hear a murmured, "Thank you."
"Now find your trousers or we're going to be late."
He moves his face away and looks down, touching a palm to my crotch. He looks at me questioningly.
"But you're still..."
I kiss him on the nose and swat his rear. "Later."
We get off our knees and I watch his pert rear as he goes to find his trousers. Three cups of water later, Tyler has acquired his trousers and retrieved his bags allowing us on our way. Stepping out the door carrying his bags, I'm surprised by soft lips at my neck. I shiver and long since felt tingles, run down my spine. I turn around.
