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“No, but,” he broke away again, his lips brushing Joaquin’s as he spoke. “Do you want to fuck me? Can I blow you?”
Joaquin reached between them and ran his hand up and down Chris’ length—a measuring touch. “I don’t usually get fucked by my hook-ups, but,” he squeezed and Chris bucked into the touch. “I think I’d like that tonight if you can get there.”
Chris laughed, surprised against his lips. “I can get us both there,” he smirked. “But can I blow you first? Do you like to get fucked after you come?”
“I like to talk a lot less than this,” Joaquin kissed Chris again and Chris was helpless to do anything but kiss back.
“Okay,” Chris stepped away. “I’m going to blow you, then fuck you. You can come in my mouth.” He walked briskly to the bed and got a pillow.
Joaquin chuckled behind him, but when Chris turned, he was standing there, rubbing his cock over the material of his pants, his blonde hair dishevelled, his lips wet where he licked them around his answering smile.
Chris swallowed and walked back to him. “For my knees,” he said as he dropped the pillow and surged back in for more kissing, his hands holding Joaquin’s head.
Joaquin broke the kiss. “Are you ninety?”
Chris laughed, his hands slipping down to Joaquin’s pants. He unbuckled his belt, undid the buttons, pushed Joaquin’s hand away in the process, and slid his hand inside his boxers. He was rock hard and hot in Chris’ palm—good length, thick—a nice dick that matched the body.
Chris felt his saliva pooling in his mouth as he stroked him, couldn’t wait to lick him, get him deep in his throat.
“No,” he replied, a little breathless. “I just like to be comfortable.”
He dropped to his knees, working Joaquin’s cock out of his pants once he was down there. He felt Joaquin shudder above him as he leaned in, one hand holding the base, stroking slightly as he licked around the head, sucked the tip into his mouth, getting it nice and wet.
Joaquin groaned above him and slipped his hands into Chris’ hair, “That feels so good.” His grip was firm but not impeding movement, just holding on.
Chris sucked him down further, pulled off, licked up and down the side to get him all wet, slicked his cock with his palm before he took the crown back in his mouth and sank down, letting his hand fall away so he could reach down and caress Joaquin’s balls.
“Oh, fuck,” Joaquin said, his hips rocking forward.
Chris pulled off. Joaquin gave him an incredulous look. Chris laughed.
“No, I’m not stopping, but you can fuck my mouth,” he said.
Joaquin panted above him—he was gorgeous, Chris thought as he ran an open palm under his shirt, over his lightly muscled torso.
Joaquin grabbed his dick at the base, slid it past Chris’ lips and started to thrust.
Chris moaned, the assault on his mouth and throat immediate. He pressed a hand onto his dick and squeezed to stop himself from coming. He could not come. He could not come, he chanted to himself as he felt Joaquin fucking into his mouth, heard the wet sounds of it sliding over his lips, hitting the back of his throat over the sounds of his constant moaning.
He opened his tear-filled eyes and looked up.
Joaquin was watching him.
Chris blinked, whimpered, felt tears drip down his cheeks, squeezed his cock to stop from coming.
“Fuck, you like that? You ready?” Joaquin panted and quickened his pace.
Chris held the eye contact, moaned around the length punishing his mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” Joaquin said and tipped his head back as he started to come.
Chris swallowed around him, felt it sliding down his throat.
Joaquin pulled him back with the hand in his hair so his cock was resting on his tongue and Chris got the message and let his mouth fall open.
“Oh, fuck, yes, just like that,” Joaquin said breathlessly as he shot his come over Chris’ tongue before sliding back in deep.
Chris licked around him, sucked him down again until Joaquin shuddered and pulled back.
