No. No one’s awake, because this is a dream. It’s not real.
And my attention is immediately back on the fact that I still have his dick in my mouth.
It’s long, so so long, and thick. Huge, really.
That must be why my jaw is sore…
My tongue slides on its own, no clue why, but it does. And a sound graces my ears.
A hum. A soft, raspy noise that came straight from the chest of a grown-ass man.
It sounds like him.
I can’t deny the fact that I’m clearly in love with this. If it is a dream, it’s mine come true. And it has to be one, which is why I’m not moving my mouth, nor is he stopping me.
It’s not really happening… And in my dreams, I get to do the things I could never do in real life.
Like sucking off my father.
Cringing, I dispel that thought. He’s not my father…
Yea, so he raised me. Big deal. Right now, he’s just the hot as fuck dude in his thirties who’s letting me wrap my lips around his severely impressive erection.
My cock jolts beneath me, precum dripping from my tip. I can feel it, and judging by the stickiness in my boxers, that wasn’t the first time.
Goddamn… This is so hot. I never want to wake up from this dream.
Using what few skills I have, I pick back up with slow movements of my mouth, slurping the huge cock, letting it hit the back of my throat and ignoring the reflex to gag. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck harder and the groan happens again.
And then I notice fingers, sliding up my jaw and curling at the nape of my neck.
He’s holding me in place. No, he’s trying to stuff himself deeper.
My dick pulses again, and I let him guide me, fucking my mouth with gentle thrusts as I lie there and take it, swallowing on him until I hear a hushed, “Fuck…”
My eyes flutter open again, and I tremor when I find him staring down at me, his own gaze hooded and wanting to fall, though it doesn’t. He keeps watching me, holding my eyes with his, cheeks visibly flushed even in the dark, lips parted and trembling.
Jesus, he looks good. I wish this was real…
But there’s no way it is, because he’s not stopping me. He’s not pushing me off him and calling me disgusting.
He’s as lost to this as I am.
His head drops back, and he bites his lip, throat dipping in a swallow. Which reminds me of how much spit is flowing from my mouth. I gulp on his cock once more and he whimpers.
“Fuck yes, baby,” he growls. “Suck my dick.”
My balls draw up. I’m so close to coming myself, from nothing more than having his dick in my mouth while I hump the couch. It’s amazing, and also not, because I’m so turned on by everything about him. It wouldn’t be the first time I came in my pants just from imagining having him like this.
At my mercy. Needing it, as much as I have for fucking years.
I’ve sucked a few dicks before, but it’s never been like this. I’ve never wanted someone to just live in my throat before.
My hips push some more, the friction on my cock, and my nuts, driving me absolutely wild. I continue to suck him, deep, worshipping his long dick with my lips, drawing out more of those salacious noises I’ve been dreaming about for so long.
The thing is, though… these ones are different. There’s something about them that’s registering in my head.
Less echo, more presence. Vibration in his body when he whispers, “Baby, I’m… I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come so soon.”
I let out my own hum on his dick, tonguing it with fervor, taking him as deep as I possibly can until I’m so dizzy I can barely hold myself up.
A sudden spark of pain brings my eyes up. He’s yanking at my hair, hard. Chewing on his bottom lip, eyes black like coal, the wide wall of muscle that is his chest pumping through heavy breaths.
This is real.
This is fucking real.
My lashes flutter, my balls spin out. And I fucking come.
Whimpering on his stiff flesh while my dick shoots off in my pants, I find myself gripping his thighs, digging my fingertips into the muscle. As hard as he’s gripping my hair.
Then he shoves his dick so deep into my throat, I have tears running from my eyes as he growls, “Fuck… yessss.”
An explosion of thick, salty liquid hits, pulsing onto the back of my tongue and all in my mouth. It keeps the high of my own orgasm going for what feels like hours while I drink him down, sipping his flavor like the eggnog from earlier…
On this couch. Right fucking here.
When I’m done eating his load, I pull my mouth off his many inches, head spiraling like a top.
I’m fucking lost. There’s no way that could have really just happened, but… it did.
I can taste him on my tongue. Feel him panting, and hear it, ringing through the room.
Glancing up at him, we lock eyes for several generous seconds of awkward, puzzled and blissful silence.
I blink.
He blinks.
We both blink.
His fingers finally release my hair, swiping the line of my jaw. Then they trail over my lower lip, brushing it in bewilderment that’s palpable.
The calm in this moment, however, dissipates fast. And then I witness a rage grow on his face. Guilt and shame and… disgust.
Yea… It was definitely real.
Those feelings are all too familiar to me. Except I’ve only ever felt them in myself. Having them mirrored back to me on his face is… not fun.
So I choose to hide.
I cower, zipping my eyes shut tight and curling up into a ball, pretending to fall back asleep. I’m not even really pretending as much as I’m wishing for it.
Praying that this was all just another one of my twisted dreams.
Though I know damn well, in my heart, it was not.
Chapter 7
James
* * *
Pacing.
Pacing and pacing and pacing, in circles and circles and circles.
I think I’ve walked the entire circumference of my bedroom fifty times. Maybe more.
All the while, my brain teetering between an active slideshow of what happened downstairs and a mental block forcing myself to erase it completely.
I’m still fighting for some kind of hope that it didn’t really happen. It cannot have been real.
But even if it weren’t, it’s equally bad. If I dreamt about something like that… then what the fuck is really wrong with me?
After what shall henceforth be referred to as The Incident, Jesse curled up and fell asleep. Maybe he truly was asleep the whole time. Which in no way makes it better.
I was stunned for many minutes. Unable to move or speak or even think. The orgasm fog wore off fast, and I was hit with a wave of guilt and shame unlike any other. A tsunami of bad and wrong swept me under, and I stumbled off the couch, running as fast as I could while trying to remain quiet, stealth.
I sprinted up the stairs two at a time and locked myself in my bedroom. Which is where I am now… Pacing.
Hours have passed by the time I finally crash onto my bed, exhausted from all the bullshit bubbling up in my head. It’s five in the morning and still dark outside as I crawl beneath my covers, rubbing my eyes hard with my fingers. What the fuck even happened down there?
Everything was normal. We watched the movie, Jesse passed out on the couch, as he’s done a million times before. Then I fell asleep too, which hasn’t happened in a while, but still, it’s not completely out of the ordinary that we’d both conk out on the couch.