Download the bonus ebook for free. | Read the book “You. Always you.” //

I see you in the reflection of the bedroom window. You’re right there, in the door frame, arms crossed, leaning on your shoulder. Still, I continue doing my push-ups, squats, pull-ups, like I don’t see you. Keeping my back turned to you, not revealing just how much I love it when you watch me.

And you don’t leave. You stand there, like a hawk watching over its prey.

“Ninety-eight,” I grit out the number, my toes against the floor, feet together, arms straight. Fucking push-ups. My core tenses as I lower my torso again. “Ninety-nine.” Up again.

And then. “One fucking hundred.” 

I suck in several breaths before I look back at you. You smirk at me smugly. When I was your age, there was no need for me to do one hundred push-ups in a workout either. I inhale deeply, slowly rising to my feet.

“Look who’s here.” Most days you don’t even leave to go to your place anymore, so I am not even trying to act surprised. Completely drenched in sweat, I approach you. Hair damp, the air against my neck prickles delightfully while my heart is thumping out a rapid rhythm. You flinch back as I come too close.

“You’re filthy.”

I laugh at your observation and try to catch you again, but you escape once more, scowling playfully at me. “Oh c’mon,” I say with a grin, my hands on either side of the tall door frame. You shake your head, and then … I snatch up the front of your shirt and haul you toward me so fast you can’t fight it.

“Don’t hug me,” you warn as I pin you to the inside of the door frame and loom over you. One side of your upper lip curls in a half-snarl.

I shake my head innocently. “I’d never.” But. You’ve been watching me for the past ten minutes, which is why I am wondering …

“Do you like me all sweaty?”

“No.”

Stripping off my shirt, I throw the damp thing to the floor. It lands with a soft thud. Next, I grab your wrist to press your palm to my stomach. Slick with sweat. Your expression changes in milliseconds. Eyes going wide, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You sure you don’t like it, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sure.” And yet you keep your hand pressed to my firm stomach.

“Hm, really?” I push your hand down farther to my workout shorts, across the waistband to the bulge of my cock. I lean in, “One hundred percent sure, baby?”

You gulp visibly, then nod. Once, twice. “Mhm.” I practically feel your body temperature rise. I smirk. Gotcha.

“Maybe you should …” I cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, right into me, against my chest. “Give it a taste before you decide.” Not even a second passes before I feel your tongue dart out, tentatively gliding across the juncture of my pecs. Oh, hell, yes. I’m definitely into that. “You like that, darling boy? Tasting my sweat?” I ask breathlessly, my chest still heaving from my workout and … you.

“Mhm,” you manage, tongue lapping out once more while I hold you close. God, I had no idea this would turn you (and me) on so much. Your hands come up to trace along my waist, my chest, my arms. You squeeze my round, solid biceps, pumped up from my workout. I groan.

Your left thumb then swipes across my armpit, indicating that I should lift my arm. I do. The sweetest, shaky whimper escapes your lips as I bend my arm and place my hand between my shoulder blades, giving you full access. 

“Fuck …” You nuzzle into it, moaning and fucking whining. Jesus Christ. I’m growing hard so fast I’m getting dizzy. I let you lick me clean, then lift my other arm so you can get more, get your fill.

“Good God.” I groan as my hand guides you a little, my fingers interlacing with your hair, encouraging you. I don’t think you’ve ever done this before. Neither have I. “That’s good, baby, keep going, come on. Get a real good taste … perfect, nuzzle deeper. There you go.”

You are fucking hungry for it. I can see it in your eyes. Glazed with arousal, with need and want whenever you glance up. You keep worshipping my body, your hands roaming over every inch, and then you lick your fingertips to taste my sweat.

It’s too late to hide your arousal now. It is prodding against my leg whenever you move closer, rutting against me. “Kneel.”

You kneel, big puppy eyes staring up at me until I hook my fingers in the waistband of my briefs and shorts and tug. My engorged cock springs free, dangling in front of your mouth. You’re practically drooling as you watch it sway. “Lick my balls first, sweetheart, go on. Don’t be shy.”

Whimpering, you rub your nose along the base of my shaft, through my cropped pubes, and then bury your nose against my (sweaty) balls. My legs shake so much I have to grab the door frame. Jesus Christ. Your hands land on my thighs and you squeeze my rock-hard muscles. I run and work out a lot; you fucking love it. Although you hate it when I leave you in bed early in the morning.

Lap, suck, lick. Then you tug. Play. Roll my balls against your tongue. 

It’s pure h e a v e n.

—- book scene ends here —-

“That’s a good puppy,” I rasp hoarsely, my voice cracking at how horny I am. “Now lick up my shaft, come on. I know you’d like to suck on my balls for longer, but Daddy is dripping precum. Don’t you wanna taste that too? Look at you nodding, my sweet and eager boy.”

You do exactly as I say, licking up my shaft, from the base to the tip. “That’s it. Lick up. All the way to the tip. That’s so good. Fuck … you get me so hard.” I watch you on your knees, feel your nails dig into my muscles, like little hooks trying to break through my skin. And then, you’re there.

Your eyelashes flutter, and you moan long and loud at the taste of my precum. I am not touching you; I am not even touching myself. And yet I can feel myself climbing the hill of my orgasm. Almost at the top. So close …

My breath comes out short and fast as you pop my cockhead in like you’d suck on a lollipop. My perfect little boy. My fingers clutch at the door frame, and my feet try to press through the wooden floor. I growl, a low and dangerous sound. I’m sweating just as much as during my workout, my body glistening … I am climbing higher, higher, higher.

“Baby, c’mon, a little deeper. Yes … oh fuck, yes, that’s it.” My breath catches in my throat, and every fiber of my body tenses. I’m on top of the hill, I’m right there; my balls draw up tight, and I feel my come shooting upward. Stars flicker across my blacked-out vision. My palms hit the flat surface of the frame, and I shout out in pleasure.

You suck me off like your life depends on it. Never stopping, always bobbing, milking, drinking down every last drop. When I finally come to and my legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly, you pop off my cock and bury your face between my legs again.

That familiar body shudder ripples through you. You squeeze your crotch. And you come.