If you missed the previous story: Part 1 | Most recent part
Everybody in this story is over 18.
In the morning I wake up to a text from Connor.
"Yo sorry, my girl woke up and I had to put the phone down for obvious reasons lol. On the upside I finally got some real action again."
I put the phone down on my chest and stare at the ceiling. So I'm apperantly not 'real action', thanks. I shake my head. Why am I offended by that? She's his girlfriend, of course he'd rather fuck her. Now I feel like an idiot for sending him those videos, he probably didn't even look at them.
For the next week I don't hear from him at all, except for when he calls off two of our gym dates because he has to work on the apartment. Rationally I know that he's probably just stressed and that's the reason why we barely talk but a tiny part of me thinks that now that his relationship is working again he doesn't need me anymore. What if he just hung out with me more over the last months because he hoped to get in my pants eventually?
I don't like these thoughts at all. Maybe all of this was a mistake and it's not too late to go back to normal.
To distract myself I even invite Brooke over, but I can't get out of my head. She does me better than any other girl I've ever had but it's not nearly as intense as it is with him. After she finishes I just tell her that I think I can't cum because of work stress and after she leaves I just hate myself. Did fucking him ruin pussy for me? That sucks. I end up hoping that it's just a phase.
On Friday he finally texts me again, asking if I can help him painting the spare room. Nice, I'm good enough for that, I think, even though I know it's petty. I still go, he's my best friend after all.
"Hi." He says happily when he opens the door. At least one of us doesn't see anything wrong with this friendship.
"Why…did you have to rent an apartment on the seventh floor without an elevator?" I pant.
"Maybe you should lift less and do more cardio." He suggests and invites me in with a nod.
"Thanks, dipshit. Maybe you should have asked Kayla to paint the stupid room with you if she wants to have it."
I go inside with him and balance around the moving boxes standing around everywhere.
"She said I should do it for starting the fight about the room. She's out with 'the girls'." He says in a sarcastic tone.
"You think she's cheating on you?"
"Definetely."
"Something about turning tables."
"I know."
He hands me a paint roller and opens the white paint bucket. For a while we just paint the wall in silence. I glance over at him. He looks good in his white tank top and grey joggers. A few white paint sprinkles have made it onto his defined shoulders and his face as well. Looks cute somehow. He notices my gaze and raises an eyebrow. I quickly turn to the wall again.
"You know…I really enjoyed your video the other day…" He starts, but I interrupt him.
"Stop it dude, we're not doing that anymore."
He looks at me surprised. "Wow, was the sex really that bad?"
"No, it was…fine." I tell a half lie because telling him that it was so incredible it made me stop enjoying girls doesn't seem like a good basis for this conversation. "It's just that I feel like you only want to hang out for that."
He rolls his eyes. "You're such a drama queen, no lie." Then he flicks some paint on me and I wince. I'm wearing a very loose black tank top since I couldn't find a long shirt I was fine with getting covered in paint, and now it's covered in white sprinkles, as well as some of my chest.
"What the hell man? If that shit gets stuck in my chest hair that's gonna be painful to get rid of."
He laughs. "What chest hair? You mean that little fluff? You'd look better if you shaved it anyways."
"Says the guy who can't even grow a beard." I reply and roll over his arm with my paint roller for revenge.
He steps closer to me and defends himself: "I can grow a beard, I just choose not to."
"Oh yeah? For what? Do the guys whose dicks you suck not like the sting?" I hear myself say and suddenly wonder if I went too far. But he just laughs and comes even closer, until he's standing right in front of me, looking up at me.
His smell makes its' way into my nose. His cologne is familiar to me and awakens intense memories. My breath feels shakey and I try to hide it from him, but the look in his eyes tells me he knows what he's doing to me.
"Are you seriously slut shaming me? Didn't seem to bother you when it was y o u r dick I was sucking."
'I…I mean…" I mumble but he doesn't let me finish. He covers one of his hands in paint with the roller and then lets it wander under my shirt. His fingertips trace my abs and then slowly wander up to my chest where he places his palm firmly.
"Oh no." He says playfully and looks me in the eyes with a challenging look. "Now you'll have to shave it."
I'm certain that he can feel my heart pound against my chest under his hand and my mind is racing. I know that I wanted to stop this but I can't just let this slide. His brown eyes draw me in and his hot body is just inches away from mine, and possibly minutes away from being mine. I feel myself getting hard and realize that I can't control myself.
Instead of pushing him away like I should I dip my fingertips into some paint as well and put them under his shirt, before I trace them down his V-line, into his pants. He gasps and I can feel his skin form goosebumps.
"Oh no." I whisper, imitating him. "How are you going to explain this to Kayla?"
He looks up at me. God how I missed this hungry look in his eyes. "I don't care." He whispers back. "I just want you."
He pushes his body against mine and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. I can feel how hard he is and my own cock throbs, longing for his touch. He makes me take off my shirt and then takes off his own, before he pulls me back in and I sigh at the feeling of his warm, soft skin. I bend down and bury my face in his neck, taking a deep breath and enjoying having him back. He chuckles, while he hooks his fingers in my waistband and my dick twitches in anticipation.
As he pulls down my pants with my briefs and starts massaging my hard cock I drip some precum over his hand and dig my nails into his back. He moans lightly.
"So, what happened to 'We're not doing that anymore'?" He taunts me and gives my dick slow, almost agonizinlgy pleasurable strokes.
I grab his face with one hand and make him look at me, while my fingers leave behind small white paint marks on his cheeks. "Shut up and suck my dick." I command and he doesn't waste a second, getting on his knees.
His tongue swirls around my tip and he teases me, placing small kisses all along my shaft. His soft lips feel so good and again I can't push the though out of my mind what kissing him might feel like. But right now, he does a fairly good job of distracting me. He seems to enjoy feeling my hard cock throb in desperation for him to swallow me, and he starts massaging my balls with one hand while he gently licks my tip.
I groan in unsatisfyed pleasure. It feels amazing, but I want him to deepthroat me so bad. He looks up at me with a seductive look, knowing what I want and withholding it from me. At some point I can't take it anymore and grab his hair, pushing his face down on my cock. He doesn't seem surprised and gladly guides my dick down his throat with a wet sound. I missed that feeling. My dick twitches with lust and I whisper: "Good boy."
He looks at me with a mixture of annoyance and lust. I know he hates that I get to belittle and dominate him like this as his best friend, but I also noticed how his bulge twitched when I said it. It turns him on.
He massages my balls while I start rocking my hips and fuck his pretty face. It feels so insane, everytime my tip slips down his throat I moan out loud and my cock twitches. He handles my balls well, but I wince and let go of him in surprise, as his fingertips wander forwards and I feel them around my hole.
My dick slips out of his mouth and I drip onto the floor.
"Just trust me." He pants. "It'll feel amazing."
I hesitate but then I nod. I can still tell him to stop if it hurts, I think. He looks me deep in the eyes as he puts two of his fingers in his mouth and wets them thoroughly. Then he goes back to sucking me and my heart beats faster as I feel his wet fingertips around my hole again. I have never tried anything with my ass before, so I'm super sensitive and wince a little, everytime he touches a new inch of my body.
Then he starts slowly penetrating me with one finger. At first I contemplate telling him to stop because it feels so unusual and hurts a little, but then, as I loosen up, he finds the spot and I gasp. Suddenly I feel like I get even harder with his touch and he looks at me self satisfyed. He curls his finger and I let out a loud, uncontrolled moan, while I drip precum in his mouth. He licks it up with his tongue immediately and I realize that I won't be able to resist the orgasm for long.
After a few minutes he puts in a second finger and increases the pressure a little, causing me to let out a whimper. I never knew how crazy this could feel. I lean against the window sill, scared that my knees may fail if I don't. The pressure inside me builds insanly fast and he picks up on it.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum…" I moan out and he takes me as deep as possible, while I shoot in his mouth. I groan loudly and rock my hips while his fingers in my ass make this double as intense. And he was right, it does feel amazing. Without hesitation he swallows and gets back up.
"Damn…thank you…" I pant and he leans beside me, laying his head on my shoulder.
"You're welcome." He replies. "By the way…I always want to hang out with you, sex has nothing to do with that."
I nod and don't dare to look at him. I don't want to admit how badly I needed to hear that. I put one arm around him and lean my cheek onto his head. Then I look down on him. He still has a massive bulge, of course, he didn't get any relief yet. I hesitantly grab it with my free hand and massage it. He sighs blissfully.
"You don't have to do that…" He mumbles, his head still resting on my shoulder.
"I know."
It's the first time that I ever touch a dick that's not mine and it feels a little weird, but it's worth his little reactions. As I slide my hand down his pants and grab his boner he moans and his dick throbs in my hand. That feels amazing. I gently stroke him and feel his body tense up in my arms at every movement.
Then I decide that his pants are bothering me and pull them down a little and raise my eyebrows in surprise.
"No underwear? And you wonder why I think you're a slut?" I say playfully and he giggles.
I take his hard cock into my hand again and start stroking him slowly. I can observe his tip releasing a few drops of precum that quickly flow over my hand and make me pick up the pace. I get used to it and it stops feeling weird. Every moan and every little twitch feels like I earned it, I love pleasing him. He digs his nails into my arm and I feel his breath quicken on my neck.
"Cum for me." I whisper and he nods, panting, while I jerk him even faster. He raises his head a little bit and I feel his nose touch my cheek, that's how close his face is to mine now. His eyes wander over my face, down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. He's thinking about it too. I feel his quick breath on my lips and lean my forehead against his, while I close my eyes, feeling the electric tension in the air.
Click.
We jump in shock. Somebody opened the apartment door.
We look at each other with wide eyes for a second. Then we hectically try to put on our clothes, before Kayla comes in. Connor pulls up his pants and desperately tries to hide his boner, while I put my tank top on the wrong way. I turn it back around and try to smudge the white hand print on my chest a little with my fingers.
"Hey boys." Kayla says and leans in the door frame. She looks us up and down, while I stroke my hair back and try to get it back into its original shape. Then she inspects our work on the wall.
"You guys are the worst painters ever. Honestly. Connor, there's more paint in your face than on the wall." She laughs. "I'll put my stuff down and change, I'll join you in a second, maybe we still have a chance of finishing this today."
And she's off to the bedroom. Connor leans against one of the unpainted walls and silently mouths three words: That was close.