You’re the Heir of Breath, and yet you can’t seem to breathe. Whenever you do, the heady scent of Bro’s cologne overpowers you, cologne and musk and sweat and soap and cotton, and it just makes you push your tongue into his mouth harder.
Your glasses jostle askew on your face; Bro reaches up to right them. He’s never blinded you, and you appreciate that. In return, you haven’t tried to take off his shades. It’s better this way. It feels less wrong to make out with your best friend’s guardian when you’re still behind the anonymity of these lenses.
Really, you’re not entirely sure why you thought it was wrong in the first place. Bro’s large, hot hands slip under your shirt, his fingers reaching up to outline your ribs, and you press closer to him, to his touch, wanting to absorb his body heat even though it’s already stupidly hot outside and there’s something burning under your own skin. His mouth slips against yours, your eyewear clacking, but you don’t care.
Bro’s hands trace the small of your back, the oversensitive skin prickling at his ghosting touch; you throw your head back, feeling your adam’s apple working in a moan, and his mouth moves to your neck, his kiss absorbing the sound. Then it’s his teeth scraping, making you make noise all over again, and you reach up with one hand to keep his head in place. Let him make a mark. Let them see.
Meanwhile, his hands are moving down, grasping at your ass and squeezing once, hard, before rising up again. This time, they dip underneath your shorts, under your boxers, even, and you can feel hot, soft leather and the callouses of his fingertips as he gropes your bare skin. On his lap, you move your hips against him, loving the feel of his hold. You’re hard already, just from this much teasing, this much kissing, and Bro lets out a little chuckle near your ear. “Eager little spitfuck, ain’tcha.”
“Feels good,” you mumble against the skin of his neck, clutching onto his shoulders as he continues to rock you against him. You still have to remind yourself to breathe – soft fabric, laundry detergent, deodorant, sweat, Bro, Bro, Bro – and to make up for it, you kiss your way up his neck, mouth landing on his earlobe before you start to suck.
The little noise Bro makes in return is totally worth it. He ups the ante on you, too, slipping his hands around to your front. “Shh,” he says, and it sounds absurd coming out of his mouth, until warm, rough fingers come around your cock in a perfect grip and start pumping you.
“Oh!” You’re sure your face is absolutely red by now. You flush when you get excited, and you can tell the heat in your skin has spread all the way down to your shoulders by now, up to the tips of your ears. Bro gets one of those ear tips in his mouth, worrying at the shell of your ear gently with his teeth as he keeps moving his hand along your shaft with slow, thorough strokes.
Bro brings up the pad of his thumb to touch your slit, smear your pre over the head of your cock, and it feels so amazing that you buck up into his grip like you’re trying to fuck his hand. “Yeah, just like that, take it easy,” he tells you, his breath hot against your ear, his voice warm and seductive as his other hand comes to clutch at your hip, keep you in place while he works on you.
You’re always overpowered by him, overwhelmed and overcome – sometimes literally, jets of it spurting over the top of his hand as he jacks you off, but not this time, you won’t shoot off so soon this time. This is as far as you’ve gone, though, and sometimes, it’s still too much. You still feel like you owe him; you’re inexperienced and you don’t know what you’re doing, and it’s painfully obvious to you whenever Bro pulls you apart like this. Are you just supposed to be his plaything, his little pet that he likes to bring to orgasm?
You want to give back, and so you reach forward, shaking hands working on Bro’s belt while you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Predictably, he takes that tip between his teeth teasingly, making you moan into his mouth, and you almost forget what you were trying to do for a few seconds. You just hope he sees your clumsy fumblings as endearing, because, from your point of view, they certainly aren’t sexy in the slightest.
And even as you undo the front of Bro’s jeans, even as you reach in and fondle his cock through his boxers, he still works on you, slow but sure, each stroke engineered with perfect precision to do indescribable things to your body. For a kind of balance, you rest your forehead against his shoulder before grasping at Bro’s cotton-covered dick again. “Whoa,” you say to no one in particular. Your hands aren’t exactly small, even if they aren’t quite as big as Bro’s, and still it seems to take forever for you to sweep your palm up from the base to the tip. You can feel a little bumpy ridge under your fingers just under the flare of his corona – veins? Or something else?
You’re just at the point of screwing up your chickenshit excuse for courage so you can pull his cock out and touch it properly when Bro seems to get a better idea. “I wanna see you,” he says, his voice still suave but with an undertone of avarice. From where he has you on his lap, he holds you close, then pushes you back into the mattress before starting to work off your shorts and your boxers.
You can’t help it – you cover your dick with both hands. This will be the first time someone’s seen – that – like this – naked. And you’re embarrassed. You kind of want to sink through the bed and maybe melt through the core of the earth and end up in China or bumfuck Egypt or somewhere far, far away where Bro doesn’t have to see your cock. It doesn’t matter that he’s already felt it rigid against his leather-clad hand, the fact that he’s about to actually view it makes you shiver with vulnerability.
When Bro gets done throwing your clothes on the floor, he sees your lame attempt at a fig leaf and just chuckles at you. “C’mon, it’s me,” he reminds you. “I’ve had that beast in my hands. Now let me see it so I can do salacious, unspeakable things to you. Here, I’ll even…”
He takes off his shades.
Bro Strider takes off his shades.
His eyes are beautiful, and you can’t tear your vision away. They’re like liquid gold and five types of fire, burning ardently with want. Want for you. Desire for you. Holy shit, that’s a little overwhelming. You have to take away your hands just so you can fist them in Bro’s sheets.
“That’s more like it.” Somehow his voice is heating up even more, a silky caress against your ears. He turns, follows you onto the bed, and though you can feel the weight and heat of him above you, he doesn’t crush you into the mattress when he kisses you, just glides his body smooth against yours – as smoothly as he can manage, given you’re still working with clothing and not quite skin to skin.
Once he ravishes your mouth, he kisses his way down, off the corner of your lips to your chin to the corner of your jaw to right below your earlobe, and you can’t help the little whimper stuck in your throat as he kisses his way down your neck, onto your collarbones, planting his lips in the divot where they meet. His hand works up under your shirt, pushing it up so he can see your chest and stomach, and he skips over the part still covered with cloth so he can continue moving down, down, ever down with his mouth.
It’s making your cock twitch with a need you didn’t think possible. His mouth is hot and wet and brings your pulse to the surface everyplace it touches. You’re writhing underneath him, trying to get closer, squirming with the pleasure building under your skin, and Bro rolls with it, planting his mouth on whatever you bring closest.
If this wasn’t so sexy, it would be ticklish, the way he kisses and licks along the trail of your hair, and then he smashes his face to your stomach and pushes his tongue into your navel and you have to bring up your hand to hug the back of his head close to you. He takes the hint, continuing down, down, leaving broad swaths of spit on your skin from where he licks you.
Oh shit. Ohhhhh shit. He’s between your legs and his mouth is on your hip and sucking against a vein and outlining the ridge of your bones through your skin and you are so throbbing hard right now because you can see what he’s doing to you and it’s good, so good. You want his mouth on every square inch of you so that it all burns alive just the same.
He continues with those sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as he gets closer to your groin, and he has to hear how every breath of yours is a moan now, because he brings his hand up to let it rest on the bed and gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers through his. It’s a sweet kind of intimacy, a hold on a lifeline while he drowns you under wave after wave of pleasure, especially when he starts nuzzling up the insides of your thighs from the backs of your knees.
You’re mesmerized with the sight of him, spreading your legs to accommodate him, and he rubs little circles into your thigh with his thumb as he comes back up, dangerously close to your cock. “Let me blow you,” he says breathlessly between kisses, practically nuzzling his cheek against your package. “Let me give you head.”
“You wanna what?” You couldn’t have heard that right. What in the world is so interesting and enthralling about you that Bro Strider can’t keep his hands off of you and wants to give you handjobs and now might wanna put his mouth on you?
“I wanna suck your dick,” he murmurs against your skin. You can feel the vibrations of his voice, and then you can feel his mouth, just at the base, pressing a sloppy little kiss there before he comes back up for air. You’re surprised at how good it feels, even once he pulls away and the air of the room cools his spit on your skin. “I wanna polish your knob.” With each filthy sentence that drops from his lips, you can see your boner twitch and throb. His mouth moves around, under your cock, his tongue teasing at the very base and threatening to touch your balls. This is so intimate and you feel completely at his mercy. “I wanna swallow your cock.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You’re gonna blow just from his dirty talk at this point. You hope he realizes.
He comes up for air, pulling himself away from you for long enough to stare you down. “Let me suck you off,” he says insistently, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Yes,” you tell him, the sound drawing out into a hiss. “Please, oh God—“
You weren’t expecting him to go at it quite so soon, or quite so enthusiastically. His tongue works in broad strokes from base to tip, base to tip, making your dick shine before he even has a chance to take you in his mouth. More of those sucking kisses land on the ridge on the underside, an especially long one at the especially sensitive spot right under the head, and then he’s tracing under your head with the tip of his tongue before –
“Oh my God, holy shit,” you have to say something or you’ll never get to tell him how good this feels. Your hand clenches in his, and he grips you just as hard back, giving you something to hold onto while he pleasures you. His thumb strokes over yours, just another sensation driving you mad, as he finally sinks his whole mouth down over your cock. He keeps his lips tight, licking you from the inside of his mouth, and you don’t even feel a hint of teeth, just a little surprise when you glide up along his hard palate, then his soft.
And he’s trying to take you even farther, shit, shit, he wasn’t kidding about having your cock in his throat, his mouth moves closer and closer to the base and you can feel tight wet heat clenching around your corona and his tongue sticking out to lick the base and you have no idea how he’s doing that but it feels fantastic, especially when he makes a little swallowing motion and practically squeezes drops of precum out of you and down his throat.
He pulls off as slowly as he went down, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, and there’s a blissful look in his half-closed eyes that you’ve never quite seen from him before. You need to keep your eyes open for this. You want to watch him while he blows you. “Holy shit, you actually like this,” you realize as he takes your dick in one hand and starts pressing the whole side of his face up against it.
“I’d do this all afternoon if you let me,” he says, and there’s a raw honesty in his voice that isn’t just hoarseness from having a cock up against his vocal cords.
“Kee—eeep going,” you sigh out, and he does, this time taking just the head into his mouth and working his tongue up against the most sensitive parts of your dick. He’s doing it so smoothly that you don’t even want to buck – he’s giving you exactly what feels best. It feels amazing. He swirls his tongue around the head, dipping into the slit, and you feel like your brain was just twirled around its axis and then exploded out into a thousand little shards of stars. You could swear your vision goes white for a second.
Bro keeps talking to you through all of this, through all the times when he isn’t trying to take all of your shaft into his mouth. You didn’t realize that getting a blowjob could be like this – you just thought he’d be bobbing up and down for a few minutes and then he’d jerk you off and let you come and that would be it. No, this is delicious, a pressure that builds up and then stays constant when he pulls away to tease at you with his mouth, then builds up even higher when he sinks down and nods so your head hits against his soft palate. “Fuck you taste so good,” he moans against your skin as he swipes his tongue over the head to catch your precum on his tongue.
How? you want to ask him. Why? Why are you doing this? Can’t you see I don’t deserve it? But it’s amazing, and he wants to give it to you, and that might be the most amazing feeling of all. He’s trying everything to make you feel good, first treating your dick like he’s riding it with his face, then licking along the shaft and tracing each pulsing vein. He even presses the whole thing up into your stomach using his mouth so he can nuzzle and lick and sloppily kiss at the underside, going down – “That’s my balls,” you say with a small little noise of alarm in the back of your throat.
He doesn’t let the one out of his mouth, just looks up at you with that piercing gaze, one of his eyebrows quirked up. You know exactly what he’d say if he didn’t have his mouth full of package: Whatcha gonna do about it? And the answer is nothing. Because as much as you’ve never thought about having a mouth there – why would anyone even want to put their mouth there, why why why – it feels really good. Especially good, given that this is Bro Strider and he’s making you melt with his mouth.
It’s too much pressure, though. Maybe some other time. Right now, you need him to make you come. “C’mon,” you tell him gently, touching the back of his head with a shaking hand. He gets the idea and licks his way back up, and your shaft pulses against his tongue when he moves his mouth to where it was. The way he sucks at the underside is almost like a blowjob in and of itself, and just when you want to thrust to get more sensation, Bro gives it to you. He seems to be waiting for something, though. Oh. You get it. The weight on the back of his head. He thinks you want to tell him what to do. “Keep going,” is all you say, petting at the hair just above his left ear.
You just rest your hand there, giving him a bit of comforting contact even as your other hand crushes his palm with the force of your grip. When he takes your cock in his mouth, he twists his head and swirls his tongue and it feels so good and it’s gonna be too much. But you hold back. You want this to last as long as he’ll let you let him. You don’t want it to end, because you’re sure he’ll never want to do this again. Eventually he lets you go so he can kiss at you again, and you’re so close to blowing but you’ll never let him know. “C’mon, John,” he mutters against your cock before starting to work on you again.
“Bro – unh – holy shit, Bro, I’m gonna –“ You’re breathless, dizzy from his pace, and you’re sure he’s going to pull you apart with just his mouth. And then you see. Somewhere in your blurry headspace, you pull your eyes back into focus and look – not just at your dick stretching out his lips, not just at the head of your cock pushing at the inside of his cheek, but past that, downwards, and holy shit Bro’s jerking himself off while he’s working on you. Fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, Bro getting off to just the taste of you, the throb of you against his tongue, the thrill of being able to do this to you. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna,” you gasp out, trying to warn him that it’s coming, before it trails off in a moan. “Fuuuuuuuuuck…”
He pulls off just before you start to come, still nuzzling your cock with an absurd amount of affection. When you blow, it’s on his face, thick pulses of cum marking the bridge of his nose and the ridge of his cheekbone and the flare of his nostril and the curve of his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth. And with the blissed-out look on his face and the groan you can nearly feel coming from his chest, you can tell he’s coming too, his eyelashes fluttering and the muscles in his arm working to jerk himself through it. Through your own pulse hammering hard in your ears, you could swear he says your name, his mouth falling open in an incredulous O while he makes a soft little noise of satisfaction.
You’re shaking. He just completely drained you. You know you should reach over to his nightstand, hand him a tissue so he can wipe off his face, but – oh my God, that’s filthy. That’s filthy and perverted and you can’t keep your eyes off of it – he has his fistful of his own cum from jacking himself off and he just – his tongue comes out and swipes along his palm to get all of it in his mouth, and then his adam’s apple works in a swallow, “Bro oh my God” what is he doing and why is it turning you on so much?
After he’s done licking his hand clean, he starts swiping off your cum from his face, sucking it off of his thumb and his fingers and looking like he doesn’t even notice you as he fucking eats your cum. Bro Strider is fucking eating your cum and treating it like it’s normal and it’s the most perverted thing you’ve ever seen and you’re not sure you’ve ever been more turned on in your life. “Told you you taste good,” is all he says before he swirls his tongue around his thumb, just like he was swirling it around the head of your dick.
With a plaintive little cry, you shut your eyes and let the feeling wash over you. Your cock tries to perform but only ends up sending a pathetic little dribble of cum along your stomach. Bro’s there to lick that up, too, lapping at you like a kitty at the cream until your skin is cleaned. Every one of your nerve endings is frazzled, trying to do a full-body impersonation of what TV static must feel like, and belatedly you realize you’re twitching with the force of it.
Bro crawls up your body, and this time he does crush his against yours, the weight of it something to pin you down so you don’t dissolve or float away. You clutch onto him as you ride out your high, and he kisses your neck, all the way up to your face, before he’s not inches away from your mouth. “Let me kiss you.”
“Ew, swallow first!” And, to your surprise, he actually does what you say, his throat working, and then it’s not him kissing you, it’s you kissing him. You don’t give a shit about the flavor. Underneath, he’s still Bro. Just Bro Strider. And for some reason, he’s enthralled by you.
One of these days, you’ll have to show him how much you love him, too.