I felt my jaw clench and my throat tighten.
“Do you like girls?” Ilya repeated, his deep voice demanding an answer.
“Yeah, of course,” I mumbled, but in truth, I didn’t know. Maybe? Yes? No? I hadn’t really thought about it. The only thing on my mind was hockey. That, and well, Ilya. Why was he asking this, and right after we just had sex? The way this man refused to let me bathe in post-sex bliss for even a minute…
“Okay,” he replied defensively.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Whenever I thought I could be enough for him, that this could be something—I knew it couldn’t be more, given the circumstances—but something more real, he dashed these hopes.
“Jesus, Hollander, it was just a question. You can be so testes.”
“Testy,” I corrected.
“I know what I said,” he replied with that conceded smirk. He leaned in and kissed me. Against my will, I melted. Just like that, I was his again.
THREE WEEKS LATER
“Boy, what a disappointment for Ilya Rozanov, and on his own home turf in Boston. The Russian must not be pleased with himself,” the announcer said.
“But what about Shane Hollander? Scoring the game-winning goal in the last period with less than a minute left?” the second announcer chimed in. “An exceptional showing for a rising star.”
We couldn’t meet that night. With the next day off, both teams decided to go clubbing. If Shane and I didn’t show, it would have been suspicious.
He was drunk by the time I got to the bar, his face flushed and red.
I saddled up next to him at the bar.
“You are drunk.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Good for you. You had a good game. You should celebrate.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
He gave me that baby face look. That pout that makes me want to rip off his clothes, throw him on the bar, and hold his legs down while I blow him to completion. Taste him in my mouth, feel him down my throat. Of course, I’d never tell him what he does to me.
I smouldered and leaned closer.
“Not here,” he whispered.
“What? I didn’t do anything.”
“You know what you did.” He turned to the bartender. “Can I get another shot?”
I gave him a look.
“What? Only you’re allowed to have fun?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I replied.
“Do you want one?”
“No.”
I watched Shane down the shot. He tried to keep a poker face to make it look like it went down smoothly, but I could see him grimace.
He gave me that irresistible pout a final time before heading to the dancefloor. A bronzed woman with curly brown hair, full lips, and flawless skin greeted him with a kiss on the mouth.
Who was she?
Shane wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tightly. He kept his eyes open as he made out with her, his hands roaming freely across her back, sliding down to her plump ass, which her leather mini-skirt barely covered.
I could see his eyes as he kissed her, just over her shoulder. He kept them open as he looked at me. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. I stared, arms crossed, seething.
I could feel the alcohol sloshing around in my stomach, but I kept thrusting. I should have been enjoying this more. She was beautiful. Her lips tasted like sour cherry. And she was so wet. But something was off. She wasn’t enough.
I missed him.
I had to ask the front desk for his room number. The front desk agent shouldn’t have given it to me, but I’ve always had a way of getting what I want.
I knocked on door 1412 and waited. I knocked again. No response. Was he still out?
He opened the door shirtless and sweaty and quickly ushered me in.
“You smell like sex,” I said. He didn’t reply. “You look like it, too. Is she still here?”
I pushed past Shane and opened the closet behind him.
“She left,” he said.
I walked up to Shane. “How was she?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Incredible.” Though he was confident, I knew he was bluffing.
“You’ve always been a terrible liar,” I said. I gripped his cheeks, his chin resting in the palm of my hand. I squished his mouth together and kissed him. He didn’t kiss back.
“You don’t want this?” I asked.
He had a hunger in his eyes as he grabbed my chest and pulled me towards him, his lips landing square on mine. When he opened his mouth, sliding in his tongue, I could still taste her. I usually would have found this hot, but not with Shane.
I pulled back. “You ate her out?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing, just surprised.”
“I’m not always boring.”
“I guess not.”
Shane grabbed my belt, pulling me toward him again. He fumbled with my button and unzipped my pants while I ripped off my shirt. After kicking my pants and underwear off, I headed to the bed. Shane, only wearing his black boxer briefs, followed me. He crawled from the bed’s base up to me, pushed my thighs to the side, and buried his head in my crotch.
His mouth was wet and eager. He’d gotten better at going down on me in the past few years. And let us not forget that he had already started as an expert despite his lack of experience.
“Stop,” I said, pulling him off of me.
“Too good?” he asked. He was cocky while drunk.
“Calm down, Hollander,” I replied, flipping him over onto his back. I pulled down his boxer briefs, and out flopped his dick, hard and pointed straight to the sky.
He may be good, but it was time to show him how it was really done.
I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, and slowly moved down his shaft, leaving a trail of saliva on the base of his dick.
When he started to squirm, I held down his thighs with my hands, immobilizing him.
“Urgh,” he grumbled, as I took all of him into my mouth. I gently pulled on his testicles before massaging them. I then spat into my hand and began stroking his base while I sucked harder and harder around his head.
“Fuck, that feels—” he couldn’t even say the words.
“Incredible?” I said, taking a breath.
“Yeah.”
I licked his inner thigh and dragged my tongue north, past his cum gutters, over his smooth chest, to his nipples. I sucked gently while I stroked him. He tilted his head back, moaning in ecstasy.
“Turn around,” I said. “Onto your stomach.”
I flipped onto my stomach. Ilya grabbed my cheeks and spread them, then dove his tongue into my ass. His tongue flat on my hole. His breath warm. I shivered. I wasn’t expecting him to rim me. He never had before. I wonder what I’d done to earn the favor.
I propped myself on my elbows and arched my back as he prodded his tongue deeper and deeper into my hole. When he gave my ass a light smack, I whimpered. He then slapped my other cheek.
“I want to fuck you,” Ilya said.
I rummaged through my desk drawer and grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube. As he put on the condom with one hand, he inserted a lubed finger into me and pressed down, massaging my prostate.
“Um-hmmm,” I said and let out a sigh.
When I felt his head at my opening, I took a final deep breath. He inserted just the tip, and I squirmed.
“Relax,” he said. I hated it when he said that. He’d be squirming too, if he ever took a dick as big as his. I let out another breath.
He pushed himself further into me, making it halfway before I involuntarily clenched. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, keep going.”
“It’s okay. I can go slower.”
“Keep going!”
“Okay.”
He inserted himself fully into me as he kissed my neck. He turned my head to the side so that we could lock lips as he got his last few inches in me. Once his dick was buried deep in my ass, he flexed, and I squeezed my hole around his base.
“Good,” he said. He pulled out and gently re-inserted himself. Then again, and again, until my hole opened.
“You ready for more?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, and Ilya began thrusting into me. His stomach was flesh against my back, and I could feel each defined ab. He started to swoop his hips, to get even deeper inside of me. I arched back, getting onto my hands and knees. He grabbed onto my waist and plowed fast and hard. My cheeks clapped on his cock, enveloping him.
He reached forward and grabbed me by my neck and pulled back, my body now in a perfect tabletop position as he fucked me from behind. With each thrust, my body grew weaker. With each thrust, I belonged more to him.
I had him in my control. He was mine, and only mine. I slapped his ass and watched his cheek ripple. If I kept this up, I would finish too quickly. He felt that good.
“I’m going to cum!” Shane shouted. He wasn’t even touching himself, but I could see his erect dick flopping every time I slammed my dick into him.
“Cum,” I said, doing the same. I grabbed his chest and let loose into the condom, my body convulsing. Shane shot directly on the sheets beneath him. Together, we moaned, harmonizing. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I let myself go, losing control, feeling nothing but pleasure.
No one I’d ever fucked had felt as good as Shane. Never. Not once, but I’d never tell him that.
When the last bit of my load dripped out of me, I collapsed onto Shane, who then fell directly onto the sheets covered in his cum.
“Can you move over so I’m not on—”
“No,” he said, but I didn’t mind. I liked feeling his weight on me—feeling his chest rise and fall against my back, his breath on my neck.
But then he did move to my side. He was fucking with me, like he always was. I grabbed his torso and pulled him close, my head against his chest.
We held each other silently until I said something I shouldn’t have: “Do you want to stay?”
He didn’t reply.
“Never mind, I was just offering, but—”
“Yes,” he replied. “But under one condition.”
”What?”
“Don’t ever see her again.”
I paused before replying, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said.
I turned over. He grabbed me and pulled me in tightly, as I became baby spoon.
I didn’t want to look away from him, but I had to. I didn’t want him to see the massive smile creeping across my face.
To be continued…?
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