*All names have been changed to protect the innocent, namely me.
*
"What?"
Oh no. Busted.
"Huh?" I cried innocently.
"Well, googly-eyes, you've only been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes."
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
I broke our eye contact. It was too much for me to handle.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," I denied a bit too defensively, which was pretty lame since I already knew I was blushing profusely from what heat I could feel emanating from my face. God, I was such an awful liar! I hurriedly looked away, feigning a sudden fascination towards the open Maxim magazine on the nearby desk from where I was standing in his enormous room.
"Heh, if you say so," he remarked coolly, though the arrogantly asinine smirk on his smug, criminally-handsome face got significantly broader.
Dammit.
I sighed. What is it with this guy that I just can't stop staring? I think by now it's safe to say that I'm attracted to him. Big time. I mean, it's pretty stupid to keep denying it when it was so painstakingly obvious, even to dense little ol' me. In fact, I think I may have been infatuated with him from when we first met at the beginning of the week. The thing is, and this is where most of my discomfort toward this whole situation lies... he's a frickin' dude! Suffice it to say that this is the first time I've ever been attracted to another dude. And, well, I like to think that it certainly complicates things-- by a whole lot, thank you very much!
"I'm hungry," he said all of a sudden, shaking me out of my reverie. "Wanna go check out the kitchen?"
He never bothered to wait for my response. I could've wanted to stay in the room and finish reading-- alright, looking at the pictures-- of that wonderfully riveting men's magazine and it wouldn't have mattered. He was already steering me by the shoulders down the stairs to the kitchen.
The kitchen was just as huge as the rest of the house. It was also just as beautifully decorated with very expensive furnishings. Their household help bustled about as we entered the kitchen. It was very rare for the actual inhabitants of the house to be seen in there, it seems. The whole scene reminded me a lot about my grandparents' house, actually. My grandmother was always such a bitch to the maids. And I'm guessing with the way everyone seems to be scampering about, someone in their household must be pretty bitchy as well. Yikes.
"You look like the type who loves ice cream," he surmised quizzically. "What flavor do you want?"
"Uh, no thanks," I told him. "I'm not really in an ice cream-eating mood right now."
"Oh come on, live a little!" he cried dramatically, then tossed me a pint. It was very obviously home-made. I wondered where they bought those containers for a split second. "This mint chocolate chip's got your name on it."
I caught it, but just barely. I was never good at playing catch. He extracted a spoon from one of the drawers and handed it to me.
A plump woman in uniform suddenly came in and snatched the pint from my hand.
"No, master
Valking Vet Dream
!" The woman shrilled in a thick European accent, and did the same to
Walking Wet Dream
's ice cream. "Dinner vill be served soon, and zis vill spoil your appetite, no? Your mama will, how you say, reprimand me if you don't show up to dinner again!"
Hmm. So his mom's the bitch…
"Chillax,
Stout European-ish Maid
,"
Walking Wet Dream
fired back, a tinge of annoyance evident in his voice. "It's just a pint. I'll still have room for more after I'm done with it."
"No!"
Stout European-ish Maid
exclaimed. "Now, is your friend staying for dinner?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Ay! Four people. Four people to serve tonight!"
Stout European-ish Maid
cried out. "Tonight there is no rest for
Stout European-ish Maid
!"
"Wait, four?"
Walking Wet Dream
asked, as
Stout European-ish Maid
started to head for the pantry in another room. "What do you mean four? Who else is coming?"
She didn't answer him back. She was too busy cursing the gods.
+ + +
He pushed me against the wall the minute I entered the room. Hard.
"
Walking Wet Dream
, don't- "
Too late. His lips had already enveloped mine, his tongue forcing its way in. His body pressed mine in an almost suffocating way. He was literally taking my breath away.
"Don't fight it,
Poor Little Rich Boy
," he said rather huskily, and it just about melted all my walls. "Just let yourself go."
"B-but, this is wrong," I stuttered like a bumbling idiot.
But he wasn't listening at all. He was too busy doing crazy things with his tongue to the back of my right ear, until finally forcing an elicit moan out of me.
"I'm taking that as a yes," he said to me with that evil sneer of his and that evil gleam in his eye.
He didn't wait for my reply. He just dove back in my neck like a famished madman, and proceeded to suck the life out of me. I knew it would leave me with a hickey later on, but it just felt too good to stop.
"We need to get out of these clothes," he cried desperately. "God, why do we have too much stuff on!?"
I laughed despite myself. We both only had t-shirts and shorts on.
In a flurry of hands and hurried movement, we soon had our clothes off and he was now pulling me to the bed.
He kissed me like there was no tomorrow. His tongue fought with mine for dominance. His strong, powerful hands cradled my jaw as we chewed each other's mouths. He pushed me onto the bed, and immediately followed suit. His mouth once again found mine, his beautiful body pinning me down, crushing my body with his weight. And the battle between our tongues commenced. Our lips both felt raw already, and I was sure his five o'clock shadow would give me razor burns afterwards, but nothing seemed to matter somehow.
He started kissing his way down my body, his tongue sensuously tracing every contour of muscle and skin. Eventually he found a nipple, and I couldn't help but cry out in pleasure. His hand somehow found my throbbing erection, and he gave it a hard squeeze.
I gasped in pleasure.
His mouth found my other nipple, and he decided it needed the same treatment as the other one. He was running his hand up and down my cock and balls, while the other one found its way to my butt.
He started running his tongue down my abs. The bastard was tracing every defined muscle contour there, and it was making me squirm. I was crying in pleasure, and I can feel his sneer on my skin as he French-kissed my belly button. The son-of-a-bitch was enjoying this.
I tried to grab my dick, I had to stroke myself, but his hand would just push mine away. The anticipation was killing me, and I groaned my discomfort.
All of a sudden my dick was engulfed in warm, velvety softness. I cried out. It felt so good! No one's deep-throated me before, especially not in one gulp. And apparently he had a very talented tongue. How the fuck was he doing that with his tongue? It felt like he was trying to swallow me, or something. At the same time, he was lapping up the underside of my dick, slobbering this way and that. He was groaning in pleasure, and the vibrations on my dick were pure heaven.
Then with his lips, he squeezed his way up to the head. His tongue flicked my piss slit, and my pre-cum just flowed out. He was going up and down on the underside of my head, and I was always really sensitive there. Shit, if he keeps this up I'm gonna blow, and I tell him so.
I think that may have been his intentions because his only response was to speed up. I was pulling on his hair as his head bobbed up and down in a hurried frenzy. His finger had made its way into my virgin asshole, and he was teasing the puckered opening, in time with the movement of his mouth on my cock.
"I'm getting close!" I warn him, so that he could back down and jerk me off to climax.
Instead he swallows my dick whole, and his finger plunges deep within my bum. Somehow it found my prostate, and the intense feelings sent shivers down my spine.
