Part XI
During the next week or so, we fell into a kind of rhythm.
I would get back late after a long day of work and study at the library. After a minute or so, Duke would slide his hard cock through the hole. Then, I would suck on it or impale myself on it or both--one after the other. Afterwards, he would turn away, acting like it didn't happen.
I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it--although I knew I wanted more.
I didn't tell him that I loved him again during that time. I wasn't sure it was even really true. It was probably just my hangover talking in the first place.
How could I love Duke?
There was so much about him that I didn't even know.
I mean, I was attracted to him. It took me being on my knees in front of his naked, jacked body for me to admit that. Sometimes I see a delay period between the truth settling and a person admitting it to themself, and I might sometimes be a victim of that.
Duke too.
Of course, things had a way of bubbling out. Duke said that when I wanted him to fuck me, he saw signs everywhere. I couldn't hide it. I couldn't suppress it. Not really.
And if I loved him—could I hide that?
I couldn't hesitate. Duke didn't want me to love him, so I wouldn't. I didn't. I couldn't.
I wanted things to be like the night after the dance.
The best part was when he held me and I slept in his arms.
I didn't know him well enough to really love him. But I knew him well enough to want to.
The night before my first final exam, there were no treats forthcoming in the hole in the wall. It was just as well—I needed to manage my time.
Then, I heard the familiar pounding on the door.
When I opened it, Duke smiled down at me, filling out a tight-fitting tank top. "Holden—so here's the scoop. Like I said, my poly sci friends are going to rent a cabin near Holiday Mountain. You didn't say if you like snow-boarding—"
"I can ski."
"Skiing is gay," Duke said.
He took a step inside my room and closed the door behind him.
I rolled my eyes.
"Look, I know you are gay, but do you have to act so gay?" He asked. "I mean, with your button-up shirts and the way you talk with all these big words--and now skiing instead of snowboarding?"
"What do any of those things have to do with being gay?"
"Nothing. That's my point. You don't have to act so gay all the time."
"I don't see a connection between skiing and being gay," I said. "But anyway—"
He grabbed me by the back of the head—and shoved me into his armpit.
"Shut up," he said.
I was flooded with the smell of Axe. I wanted to cough and recoil, but Duke flexed hard around my head and held me in.
"So," he continued, "If we each chip in a couple hundred bucks, we get a day of snowboarding at Holiday Valley, and a little room in the cabin for a couple nights. How's that sound?"
"Sansgoom," I mumbled, my words muffled by Duke's moist skin.
"Hm. Not sure what that means. How about...a bite means no, and a lick means yes. Let's try again. How does that sound?"
Slowly, I licked Duke's greasy pit. The taste wasn't natural. It made me shudder.
"You are getting me hard," Duke said, pushing me down to my knees. "This is how we should have every conversation."
My mouth hung half open. Part of me was at a loss that I didn't make a stand. I used to think of myself as a fairly dignified person.
Somehow, the alternative option had evolved--from unthinkable--to exhilarating.
"Did you want...?" I asked, flicking the button of Duke's jeans.
"Sure, faggot."
I looked up into his eyes, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled out his big, bouncing cock.
Then I slurped it deep inside.
I had never been so excited for final exams to end—not even when I graduated high school. He had mentioned it weeks ago, but it was really starting to sink in now. Duke and I in the same room for two nights, at a cabin in Holiday Valley!
I texted Erica and told her all that had been happening with Duke.
<Sounds like you're having a lot of fun. Wish I could go to the cabin with you and the others, but I'm going to be busy. I have news too, you see. I met a guy...>
<Seriously? That's great! Wait..he's not going to replace me, right? :( >
<I think of it more as an improvement,' not a replacement'.>
<Hey now. That hurts, Erica. You don't want to hurt your boy Holden, do you? That hurts me deep inside.>
<Are you trying to sound like a slut, or is that just how you talk now?>
I was the only one with a final on the last Friday, which meant I was holding up the car. I couldn't tell if I was supposed to use the divergence theorem, or switch to a different coordinate system, or what. When I finally turned in my test and switched my phone back on, it buzzed with messages in an instant.
They were from Duke.
<Hurry up! The group is waiting in the game room downstairs. Blah. If Victoria asks me one more question about politics, I'm just going to whip out my junk and start rubbing.>
<NO. DON'T DO THAT.>
<Fine, but you better be hungry for it tonight.>
<You know I'd do anything for you.>
When I got back to the dorms, I found Duke playing ping pong. It was Friday, so he was wearing his planet Earth tank-top and tight green shorts that gripped his pole.
The guy he faced had a similar strategy, you could say, hitting the ball fiercely, but with little to no accuracy. When they finally did volley, they seemed to mirror each other, swinging crudely.
His opponent wore army shorts, a tight black tank top, and a twine necklace adorned with an arrowhead. He looked over at me, running his hand through his buzz-cut blond hair, and flexing. His puppy brown eyes widened, and he smacked his lips absentmindedly.
"Roy, this is my friend Holden. He lives on my hall. Holden, this is my buddy Roy from high school. He's going snowboarding with us."
I felt my heart sink a little. I was looking forward to spending time with Duke—alone.
Roy had a strong grip as he shook my hand. "Victoria mentioned you earlier. I got the impression she liked you... in her own way." He laughed nervously.
"She seems nice," I said.
"Nice? Sure. I mean, if you like her—I bet you could find a way to seal the deal. Lucky dog. I've been striking out with girls for a bit, and between you and me, I've got some raging blue balls. Hey Duke--didn't you tell me you'd found a down ass bitch that was all over you? Why haven't we tag-teamed her?"
"I'll ask her if she's into it," Duke said. "I thought you were done riding my coattails."
Roy rubbed his shorts. "So--sue me. You know you always had a way of bringin' out the bad boy in me."
Victoria cleared her throat. She and Clarissa had returned from the bathroom, and were splitting some Pop Tarts they had bought from a machine. "What are you talking about now?"
"Nothin'," Roy said. "At least nothing that would interest you."
"You mean you weren't talking about politics, society, or philosophy? Should I be surprised?"
"Whatever," Duke said. "Just because you know every historical fact ever—"
"Knowing that Martin Luther and Martin Luther King Jr are different people...isn't considered esoteric knowledge to most of us, Duke."
"One's his dad; that's what I said."
Victoria rolled her eyes.
"I'm gonna grab my bags," I said. I was back in a flash, jittering a bit, but keeping it under control.
When I got back, Victoria and Duke were still going at it.
"He nailed the 95 theses to the door to the church," she said.
"He had a dream and stuff; I remember."
"In 1517?"
"I mean, I don't know exactly when the Civil Rights movement was. I'm not really into dates."
"You are horrible, you get that right? I want to vomit right now."
"Look, I'm not saying it's not important. You are just a little bit fussy is all. I mean, I have the general idea."
"Can we go to the car?" Clarissa asked. "I want to get to Holiday Valley some time today please."
"Good idea," I said.
We walked outside. It was a little frosty, and it fed into my excitement.
"The general idea?" Victoria said. "What is world history, according to Duke? This should be good."
"Seriously?" Duke said.
"Yeah, seriously."
"Well--" Duke said, clearing his throat, "at first everyone was a monkey in Africa, or something like that, and then evolution happened, and people became people. They figured out they could smack each other with bones and shit and drink from cups, and started roaming around on a bunch of land bridges because the oceans were crystal then, back when people rode Woolly Mammoths and stuff."
"Were there dinosaurs?" Victoria asked.
Roy loaded the suitcases into the trunk.
"Shotgun," Duke said.
"I don't think so," Victoria said. "I'm driving, and Clarissa is riding shotgun. We aren't getting sandwiched back there by a bunch of buffoons. No offense, Holden."
"Fine," Duke said. "Holden, you ride bitch."
"Ride bitch?" I said.
"It means sitting in the middle of the back seat," Roy said. "Duke used to get me to do it. I suppose I'm moving up in the world. Don't take it personally; I've known him a lot longer."
Duke opened the door for me and pushed me inside. I crawled into the middle seat and tightened my seat belt. Duke sat on my left and Roy sat on my right. I felt a little out of place in my polo and slacks, given how casually they were dressed. I was even wearing glasses today, because I remembered Victoria wanted to see me in them, but now they made me self-conscious somehow.
It was a snug fit. Their legs were up against mine, and their biceps rubbed against me when someone shifted. They were both bigger than me, with Roy built almost like Duke.
Once Victoria and Clarissa got in the car, we didn't waste any time. She accelerated out of the lot in a huff. "How did we end up riding together, again?"
"Idunno. But—you're stuck with us," Duke said. He draped an arm over my shoulder, pulling me in casually, as he grinned from ear to ear. "What were we talking about? Oh yeah, dinosaurs. They went extinct, except chickens and crocodiles, which are basically dinosaurs. So people raised chickens instead of dinosaurs for eggs and stuff, once they started domesticating things. It was kind of weird if you think about it. I mean, if there is a wolf trying to kill you, how do you get it to wag its tail and lick you and whatever? But I guess that's just evolution again."
With Duke around me, I was having trouble staying focused. The mixture of Axe and sweat emanated from his open pit, which was wrapped against me. It was moist and made me stick to him. He had made an exception to put it on even though it was Organic Friday. Maybe he thought it would be less obnoxious this way.
I jolted as I felt Roy breathe into my ear. "Are you getting boned up?"
Damn, I'd hoped no one would notice. I turned toward him, and he raised an eyebrow.
I bit my lip and nodded. "I won't tell nobody," Roy whispered.
I nodded at him again.
"What are you two whispering about?" Clarissa asked.
"Just enjoying Duke's take on world history," Roy said.
"It's like some kind of...alternate dimension acid trip," Victoria said.
"Well, there are other universes, at least according to that wheel-chair guy," Duke said, smiling. "So yeah—once people could domesticate stuff, they found a bunch of pigs and cows and figured out how to farm so they could make big cities and oppress each other and stuff. China made a big wall and people played king of the hill in Europe and everyone else was kind of off their game so Europe made them their bitch."
Victoria turned onto the turnpike and I could see the straight-away narrowing into the horizon. The ocean glimmered on my right, and hills cropped up on my left. Looking around meant looking past Roy and Duke and I was having enough trouble controlling myself as it was. Not that I felt anything for Roy; I just met him, but it's different when skin is up against you. It was just sort of a reflexive arousal and it felt so natural I couldn't really fight it.
"Religion was just bad logic at first, but then it became hope, so I guess that's sort of a wash. People were like, `let's crusade and shit,' and eventually Protestants happened because it was getting hella dumb, and I guess that's why everyone loves Martin Luther."
"And Martin Luther King Jr?"
"Right, so then America happened, and people were like, fuck Europe, who likes tea?' so they threw it in the ocean and invented coffee. And Europeans were like, rebellious white people, we respect that,' so they drank more tea and played backgammon in their pantaloons. Then Francis Scott Key wrote the National Anthem, which is actually different and less accurate than the Lana Del Rey version, and talks about freedom and shit. So Frederick Douglass was like, what if freedom isn't just about white people and tea?' And Lincoln was like, boom bitches, suck it.' So they shot him. And then some time passed and racism kept happening and happening and Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream and got shot and then Marylin Monroe died and then Kennedy got shot and then his brother ran for president and got shot, and everyone was like, `fuck this planet, I'm going to the moon.'"
"Someone should make a movie about your brain," Victoria said.
Clarissa snapped her phone shut. "Honestly, I don't think Duke is stupid."
"Thanks, babe." Duke said.
"Seriously—I think you just like provoking people—Victoria especially," she added. "You like pushing people's buttons."
Duke rubbed my hair and I felt his arm muscle tighten against the back of my neck. "Holden thinks I bend over backwards to impress people. Clarissa thinks I just like to mess with people. But you know me best, Roy. What do you think?"
"I think you don't like it when people think they've figured you out, so you wiggle into something different just to prove them wrong. I think you don't like to know what's going to happen next, so you make everything chaotic to put everyone is in the same boat. I think that you think the future is almost as scary as the past, so you take refuge in your stranglehold on the present. You monopolize every moment you can steal, without so much as a plan or even an aspiration—but shit, do you make the moment fun."
Duke yawned. "When do we stop for food?"
"In three hours," Victoria said. She stole a glance at us through the rear-view mirror. "Unless anyone else is getting hungry," she added, raising an eyebrow.
I shook my head and Duke squeezed the back of it playfully.
We did eventually stop for food. (Roy got really excited about A&W.) Victoria made fun of Roy for his big mug of root beer and ice cream, but he wouldn't budge. "That's the whole point of this place, isn't it?"
"You look like a little kid."
"Why should kids have all the fun? Am I right, Holden?" He dug his knuckles into my shoulder and my body softened a little.
After food, Duke fell asleep on my shoulder in the car, while Roy kept smacking his lips and tapping his knee.
Darkness fell, and mists crept along with it, chasing us as we curled away from the ocean.
"Looks like the entertainment got tired," Victoria said.
"Yup," Roy replied.
"How do you know him again?" Victoria asked.
"We had a lot of classes together in high school and even middle school. We did everything together—collecting Crazy Bones, having Lego battles, skateboarding—"
"What's a Lego battle?" Clarissa asked.
"It's when you each build an army out of Legos and then you smash the other person's Legos into little pieces."
"So it's playing with dolls for destructive boys."
"Did you say skateboarding?" I asked. Somehow, I had a difficult time imagining Duke on a skateboard. He was so bulky—he didn't exactly seem agile.
"We were smaller back then, remember," Roy said, seeming to read me. "But anyway, when he fell and broke his wrist—he never touched that board again."
I turned toward Duke. I could hear and feel his rhythmic breathing. Though his eyes were closed, he still wore a wide, knowing smile, beset by crescent dimples.
When Duke had a boner, it was obvious. That must have been one of the curses of his existence. He could never hide it.
I wanted to pull it out right then and there, but I tightened my grip on my sanity instead.
"You don't look like a skater," Victoria asked. "Are you army?"
"My mom was," Roy said. "She sort of indoctrinated me."
She nodded. "How would you say she views the military?"
"Respectfully."
Roy put one arm behind his head. His elbow pressed up against the window and misted it over with a ring of grease. I'd never seen someone so simultaneously compulsive and smooth.
Duke slipped off my shoulder and woke with a start. I turned toward him. He looked into my eyes, the crystalline blue in his seeming to swirl. He bit his tongue in the corner of his mouth; his arm flexed into mine; I felt a spark of intensity; my asshole twitched.
He yawned, squeezing the back of my neck, while raising his free arm into the air to stretch.
I tried to look away. I saw Victoria's tightened lip in the rear-view mirror, and then looked past, through the windshield. I could barely see the road ahead; everything was grey. Traces of mist and snow intermingled, but soon all I could see were the two headlights tunneling half-heartedly through the haze.
I closed my eyes, and still saw Duke anyway.
When we finally got to the cabin, I felt beat, despite a day of doing nothing. We lugged our suitcases out of the car. Clarissa blindsided Duke with a snow-ball, and he faked a smile before brushing off the feathery mist. There was another group of people already at the cabin, some of whom I thought I recognized from the wine and cheese kickback. According to Victoria, another group had yet to arrive.
Roy put his suitcase next to a couch. If Roy's theory about moving up in the world was right, then I should get the couch and he should get the spare bed in Duke's room--but Duke insisted otherwise.
"Holden has back problems," Duke said, thumping me in the back.
"So I pay big bucks and you dump me on the couch alone?" Roy asked. "Typical."
"At least you didn't have to ride bitch on the way up."
Roy rolled his eyes.
So Duke and I got a bedroom with two little beds. The truth was, we probably wouldn't use both beds, but I guess it wasn't the kind of information I was willing to pass on to Roy at this juncture.
A few minutes later, Clarissa knocked on our door. It was a formality to get our attention; the door was still open. "Victoria is talking with the others about politics. You know I love her, but I have a threshold, right? I was thinking of getting a mindless Redbox and just vegetating tonight. You guys game?"
"Get Roy to go with you," Duke said. "I need Holden's help with something."
"Always volunteering me," Roy said, walking up from around the corner. "Alright, I'll be your body guard."
Clarissa motor-boated her lips.
Duke peeked out into the hallway, watching them leave. Then, he swung the door shut and clicked the lock. He turned toward me and licked the corner of his mouth.
He tugged at my shirt, raising an eyebrow and biting his tongue slowly.
Facing one another, we stripped down, juxtaposing my smaller frame with his bulk.
"Hell--you've been teasing me with those big wet lips all day," he muttered.
I took a moment to appreciate the contours of his tight skin--his flowing strength.
"We don't have time for you to gawk at me, fag. This needs to be a quickie."
He sat back on one of the beds, flexing all over, and jacking his monster.
"You've been wanting me all day," he said. "You've been softening under me, daydreaming about my sweaty balls."
"Duke," I whispered, walking toward him. "You don't have to be a dick about it."
"Yeah I do."
I loomed over him, uncertain.
"Something is wrong with this picture," Duke said. He grabbed my shoulders and overpowered me, forcing me to my knees.
I gulped, finding myself in the familiar position between his legs. There was no grey lamplight on him this time—we were too far away from the city. There was just a glimmer from the moon, or perhaps the stars.
"What if they come back?"
"That's why you gotta make it fast."
"But I thought you liked me fantasizing about your balls?" I said. Then I lapped at them slowly.
"Don't fuck with me, boy."
I licked leisurely, sweeping out a glistening path, from the thick base to the bulging vein to the beating shaft to the bulbous head. He leaked a little at the peak, like snow, and I tightened my lips around the head and swallowed it down.
"Fuckin' faggot," Duke said, pulling me up by the back of the head. I thought he was positioning me so he could slam me down on the shaft, but instead he pulled me up onto the bed. I coiled between his legs as he slid his cock along my face.
He grabbed me by the back of the head and buried my face in his crotch, his cock slipping against my skin, his ballsack smothering my nose.
It muffled my whimper.
"Smell that? That's the smell of a man that's about to fuck a bitch." Duke wrapped his legs around my head and tightened them, making my face slide down his balls till I could smell his musky hole. "Pheromones, working overtime to expose when a bitch craves cock."
"I want your cock, Duke," I breathed. "C'mon. Fuck me."
"I know you want it, boyhole. But we only have some time for you to give me head."
This time, when he grabbed the back of my neck and made my body arch, I could sense he was done playing around.
"Open wide, bitch."
He slammed me down, stretching out my face, not pausing even when I started to gag.
"We don't have time for bullshit," Duke said, sliding another inch deeper into my throat when he got the chance. "We know you can take the whole Popsicle. You are a natural cocksucker."
My eyes widened. I tried to nod but I was locked in place, overwhelmed and frozen. It was hard to breathe, and Duke didn't help matters when he gripped my neck with both hands.
"You can take it."
I swirled my tongue and tried to comply. He was being so forceful that my body was clamping down and resisting him.
I tried to clear my mind, to open it up for what was to come.
Duke held control, yet, in his rush to get off, made it harder for me to cooperate. Ironically, he probably prolonged things instead.
Duke let go of my neck and arched his back, bucking up toward me. Still, a few inches of his shaft protruded from my mouth.
"God, what's the hold-up?"
I looked up into his eyes.
The hold-up was his unbelievable fuckstick that defied conventional anatomy and made things so goddam difficult. With Joey, a blowjob was an incident; with Duke, it was an ordeal.
He massaged my ass with his feet and I let out a moan from the depths of me that rattled around his cock, and made it shiver. Then, he shoved the length of it inside my throat.
"Yeah, you're my boyhole," he murmured, thrusting in and out of me and holding my head down.
I sputtered, and he forced his way through, making good use of my bubbling lips.
He employed his feet to massage my ass, pulling my cheeks wide so that the air made my hole cold. I gasped, my ass distending visibly, and Duke plugged my throat.
Slowly, he dragged me off his monster.
We looked into each other's eyes. I could sense he was thinking of asking me something.
"What is it?"
"You would do anything for me, wouldn't you, Holden?"
"Yes—Manpike," I said, gazing up at him.
"Good boy," he said. "Hurry up and finish me off."
His cock seemed impossibly big, stretched to its limits, reddened and flared.
I took the big bulb of a head into my mouth and sucked gently.
Duke growled, petting the back of my hair, before gripping my head and pushing me down. The shaft throbbed, teasing me as it slid deeper and deeper inside me. He leaked and I could taste the amalgam of salt and sugar. Even when the juice was long gone, I could still taste traces of the flavor on his shaft. I moaned, sucking harder. I relished in it--the emblematic flavor of his pre-cum; the taste of his body; the taste of his cock itself.
I swirled my tongue around his meat and slurped.
He continued playing with my ass, his feet dancing and churning, exposing my hole to the cold over and over. It used to be tighter—even a week ago. Now, he could make it open a little—and it seemed he liked to.
"Yeah, you are my gaping boyhole."
I tried to focus on Duke—on my task—on his cock—but the way he rubbed my ass made it twinge. It had been ornery all day, commanding my attention when it had no business doing so.
"You still want me to fuck you?"
I made a motion that resembled nodding as I wrapped my tongue around his cock.
"There's no damn time, fag."
Drool flowed along my tongue, forming a liquid lamina between us, like a membrane, which glinted when he pulled me off his cock again.
"You seem distracted," he said.
"Maybe if you stopped playing with my ass—"
"Less moanin' and more suckin'. C'mon."
"Duke—"
He choked me on his cock again. I looked up into his eyes as he grabbed me by the ears. Then, he sneered at me, jacking my head up and down.
"Yeah, suck it. Yeah, that's good boy. Oh fuck! That's the idea; keep doing that."
I ran my hands over his tight chest as he played with my head.
We could hear the front door reverberate in the main hall when it slammed shut.
I looked up at him and his eyes flashed.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Duke growled, manhandling me.
He gave up on jacking my head. Instead, he held it down, grinding me into his crotch as he bucked and thrust at my face.
I tried to loosen up, sinking into him as he used me.
"Yeah boyhole, just relax and suck."
I closed my eyes, feeling my ass twitch.
He packed my throat, hastening his drives.
His groans were in a low overtone now; I tried to stay quiet as I toyed with his cock and gripped his body. I rubbed his thighs, squeezing his balls gently as I glugged on his battering ram.
He tested the waters; he jabbed his cock past my lips, through my mouth, and down my throat; reaming me till I was wide-open and at his mercy.
I flexed, supporting myself on my elbows and knees and trying to catch my breath.
Duke smirked when I looked into his eyes. Then, he overpowered me, grabbing my wrists and holding them behind my own head, leveraging force through them as he humped my stretched face.
BARM BARM BARM.
There was a pounding on the door, and Duke suppressed his snarls.
"What?" he yelled, still conducting me with one hand as he turned toward the door.
"We got a movie," Clarissa said, her voice muffled on the other side of the door. "You guys wanna watch?"
"Just give us a minute!"
"Are you getting into your pajamas?"
"Yeah," Duke grunted.
Her footsteps faded and Duke regarded me again. "Hurry the FUCK UP!" he hissed.
His eyes flashed with anger, but there was nothing more I could think to do. He had complete control over the situation; I was just trying to do what he told me. I sucked feverishly, rolling my fingers over his balls with one hand and tweaking his nipple with the other. His muscles flexed under my palm as I rubbed him, as he routed my body.
In some ways I couldn't figure him out. Did the secretiveness appeal to him, or was it a nuisance? Maybe Roy was right. Duke didn't like being--defined. He just liked playing around.
His cycling deepened and his groans grew audible again. He was rough; it started to hurt; I was far beyond the point where I let that govern anything.
The friction burned my lips; his heat radiated in my mouth; his pike battered my throat.
I wanted him deep inside me.
BARM BARM BARM.
Someone was knocking again.
"What the fuck?" Duke yelled, forcing my head deeper down on his beating cock.
"I was going to ask you the same question," Roy said from the other side of the door. "You don't even wear pajamas. You prance around in your underwear like some queer."
"Fuck off!" Duke said.
Duke started writhing around; sweat broke on his brow; he lost control of his breathing. He flexed, like he was trying to worm away; I tightened my lips on his cock and sucked, lolling my tongue over the thick vein that piped the base.
"I'm close, faggot," Duke whispered.
Just then, the door-handle moved. It was one of those freak scenarios, when, despite the lock being turned in place, Roy was able to turn the handle just so. By the time the lock buckled, the door was positioned such that he could force it open by pushing hard enough—which he did.
Even with my mouth packed full of Duke's monster cock, I could still crane my neck enough to see the expression etched into Roy's face.
Shock; pain; disgust; anger—he ran the gamut in a hazy succession.
Duke craned his neck and saw his best friend frozen at the doorstep.
"Fuck," Duke said. "Oh fuckin' hell."
Duke's body wound up like a spring.
Then, he shot rope after rope of sticky cum deep into my throat. He shivered with molten energy; it seemed to go on forever. I don't know if his body reacted to being watched or to a perceived threat or what, but it was the biggest orgasm of Duke's I could remember. He flooded me—there was no other way to describe it. It just kept coming and coming; I tried to swallow as it did; I had always, somehow, found a way to manage before, but this time, he filled my mouth and clogged my throat; the force pushing us apart; soon, some was leaking out the corner of my lips and dripping onto Duke's abdominals.
Duke ran his hand through my hair as I gulped down his massive load.
Roy's mouth fluttered; his eyes bugged out wide.
He blinked twice, then stepped back into the hallway and wrenched the door shut, pulling hard enough so that it echoed. I wouldn't say he slammed it though. I couldn't quite read his expression. It was etched into my mind.
Duke pushed my face around his abdominals, making me lick up the mess.
"Shit," Duke groaned. "Did that really just happen? Fuckin' piece of crap of a lock! This is your fault, you know."
I lay with my face in his lap, nursing on his softening cock.
Eventually, he pushed me off of him. "I need to go talk with Roy," he said. "And Clarissa..."
He stood up, pacing back in forth, his tight ass glinting as he walked, his cock shimmering, and his muscles etched with moonlight. He found a way to smile. Light danced in his blue eyes, and dimples formed on the sides of his mouth. "Do you have a pair of pajamas I can borrow?"
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