Slap of Realization

We kissed and fondled, building up hot desire. He unzipped me and stroked my cock as we kissed. He went down on his knees between my legs and took me to heaven with his soft mouth. It was only then, as the steel ball ran up and down the vein in the underside of my cock that I realized that he hadn’t taken his tongue piercing out. Why hadn’t I noticed that? Had the women seen it? Surely they had. None of them had said anything about it. I wasn’t going to think about it now. He was going to take me to heaven with a blow job.

“Trent? What?” I murmured as I felt him rolling a condom on my cock.

“Yes, here, now,” he whispered, moving my hands to his belt buckle. “Fuck me.” I unbuckled and unzipped him, and pushed his trousers and briefs off his hips, where they fell to the matting of brown needles under the tree from last year’s molting.

We kissed deeply and, embracing his torso in my arms after unbuttoning and spreading his shirt, I moved my lips down his throat to his nipples. I felt, more than observed, the weighing down of the pine limbs as Trent lifted his legs to hook onto boughs on either side of my hips, using his hand to position his hole on my erect cock and then impale himself on my shaft.

I held him, but I let him do most of the work of fucking himself on my cock until, with separate cries and a shared long sigh, we both ejaculated.