Latest gay erotic stories: Safe Deposit – Chapter 5
“Yeah, you are.” His unoccupied hand cupped Sam’s cheek, stroked his jaw. He knew what Sam wanted, what would happen if he got it. It was impossible knowledge, but Thomas had it, and Sam was losing the fight to keep his mouth closed.
Thomas’s fingers on his cheek felt lighter but somehow more insistent, and Sam’s lips parted. Just a bit, but it was enough.
Thomas touched his tongue and Sam knew it would be over in a matter of minutes. In a distant corner of his mind he was humiliated by how close he was, but he knew this would happen, and there was no stopping it.
It had caught him by surprise the first time he had given head, and the other guy had laughed at him. He could still remember the come that had streaked the hideous green bathroom tiles as the guy had squirted into his throat, and it hadn’t gotten any easier over the years. He rarely gave head because of it.
But here he was with a stranger’s warm length resting on his tongue, not moving. The stillness was killing him and his hands reached up for Thomas’s hips, trying to make him move.
“You want me to do all the work?” There was mirth in his voice, but strain, too. Sam could feel how close he was, taut in Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s vision whited out when he realized what he had said. Tears prickled the back of his eyes as he hollowed out his cheeks and tried to swallow Thomas.
Thomas let out an actual groan and grabbed Sam’s hair. He wasn’t big enough to choke Sam, but he filled his entire mouth and that was more than enough.
Sam felt the fluttering start in his groin and sucked harder. He didn’t have much time.
Thomas finally did start to fuck his face, growling and pulling Sam’s hair. His cock began to twitch in Sam’s mouth, and he pulled out abruptly, taking himself in hand.
Sam nearly screamed at the loss of contact. He felt like was on fire, he was about to explode, and now his mouth was empty. He tried to pull Thomas back inside, but he kept a tight grip on Sam’s hair.
“No,” he breathed. He was stroking himself furiously, inches from Sam’s mouth; it was torture. “I want to see it.”
Sam felt it before he registered what had been said. Thomas shouted and let go of his hair, both hands on his cock. The first shot hit Sam square on the lips, but the rest ended up on his cheek and nose. He thought he would die of the pain in his cock; he’d never done this without coming and didn’t think he could stand it…
Thomas took his hands before they could reach his pants; Sam didn’t have the will to fight. All he could do was sit there and throb while Thomas pulled himself together. He was leaning over Sam on the bed, breathing hard and looking at Sam in awe.
“Lay down.” Sam was three fourths of the way there already, and it was a relief not so have to support his own weight, not to have to do anything.
Thomas unzipped him and he nearly shot off the bed. A tear really did escape his eye, and he prayed Thomas didn’t see; if they stopped again he would burst into actual flames. But Thomas was quick with the necessities, and he was naked from the waist down in what seemed like a flash. Thomas was straddling his thighs and staring down at him, his expression soft.
“I want to see it,” he whispered. When his hand touched Sam, his hips tried to jump off the bed. But Thomas’s weight held him in place; he couldn’t do anything to speed things up.
Thomas’s touch was light and exploratory, maddening. He somehow knew that he was making a number of embarrassing noises, but all Sam could hear was the rush of blood in his ears and Thomas’s voice.
“Are you always like that?” His voice was all honey again. “When you’re blowing someone, I mean. Are you always so…” His strokes grew more serious; one hand was teasing Sam’s nuts. The fluttering started again.
It had started. Sam felt a scream rising in his throat.
“I want you to,” Thomas said in a warm tone. “I want to see it…”
It tore through him with a force he hadn’t felt before, a whole-body thing. His eyes were shut tight as he rode it out, Thomas pumping him and saying things he could no longer hear. He felt disembodied and light, and it seemed to go on forever.
He was under blankets.
It was dark in the room; the only light was from a small and very dim lamp on the table beside him. He was in a bed, and there was a glass of water in front of him on a knitted coaster — red with a purple star in the middle. He tried to wrap his mind around where he was; he didn’t own such a thing, but it was familiar in a way that scared him.
There were arms around him, someone behind him.
It crashed into him like car into a wall and he started, sitting up. There was no clock in here, and his phone was still out front.
“What time is it?”
Thomas stirred behind him; the mattress groaned. Sam wondered absently why it hadn’t made any noise earlier.
Or maybe he’d just been too far gone to notice.
After a yawn, Thomas sat up too. “I don’t know, my phone’s in the kitchen. Why does it matter?”
It was a good question. The storm wasn’t going to let up for a full twenty-four hours, and he felt sure they hadn’t been in here that long. And then there were the roads to consider.
He could be here for days.
His cheeks burned, and he was really glad Thomas couldn’t see that. He lay down, facing the table with his back to Thomas and tried to get his bearings. He felt unmoored, free floating. The island of light in the otherwise dark room didn’t help.
Thomas pressed his chest to Sam’s back, squeezing him around the middle. Sam was alarmed by how much of a comfort that was; he felt better already, and that was a problem. He shouldn’t be leaning so hard on Thomas so soon.
“Just take a breath.” He spoke into Sam’s shoulder blade. “Just lay here.”
Sam let his eyes shut and tried to follow the advice.
“I take it you don’t do that too often?”
Shame threatened to swallow him, but didn’t let it affect his voice; he’d surrendered enough to Thomas already.
Sam chuckled. “You really go right for it, don’t you?”
He shrugged, not opening his eyes. “Always goes like that, even the first time. It’s worse if I’m on my knees.”
He wondered how much he should say. “I don’t last as long. It’s…I just can’t for some reason. It’s overwhelming.”
He couldn’t believe he was talking about this. Sam had gone to some pretty extreme lengths to avoid even the suggestion that he give head in his past relationships, even the ones with women. It exposed a part of him that he wasn’t interested in exploring. It was too intense.