He Said My Name (A Sequel)

I took him into my mouth. He was bigger than I remembered. I hated that I could not taste him. He had always tasted delicious, like Spring smells.

I also hated that I could feel him come, but not taste his cum. For me, there was no reason to suck a dick, if you were not going to swallow the gift. It was like baking a cake, but then refusing to eat it.

After we had disposed of the condom and cleaned him up, I again re-acquainted myself with his body. Only this time, I bypassed his dick, spent a ridiculous amount of time on his balls, then pushed his knees up and ate his ass like I was as desperate as I was.

I didn’t remember putting the condom on, but in my haze of pleasure I found myself protected and inside of him, sweat dripping off of me as I drove into him over and over.

“Oh, Marco,” he called out.

“Oh, Michael,” I answered.

I awoke in the middle of the night, naked, Timothy’s head on my shoulder, his left hand holding on my dick and balls. I didn’t remember cumming or pulling out or cleaning myself. I must have blacked out when I came.