Page 57 of Saving Pookie

There's something about fighting earlier that's gotten me aroused. Yeah, that has to be the reason. It totally has nothing to do with the boy with his thighs around my hips. Has nothing to do with the way he looks at me like I'm his favorite toy. Absolutely fucking nothing to do with the way the shadows lift from his eyes when I smile at him like this—crazily, stupidly, hungrily.

"You got torn the hell up." Pookie brushes a thumb under my right cheek. "It's kind of sexy."

Straight boy psychology 101: A guy can kiss you, suck your dick, let you fuck him, but the moment he calls you anything along the lines of sexy, well... that's just gay.

"If we're going to do this, we have to do it fast," I say, teasing the hem of his shirt with both hands. My fingertips brush against his bare skin and he shudders under my touch. I bow my head against his, pleading, "I'm so fucking horny."

He peels his gaze upward with the slightest bit of hesitation, and then a daring smirk passes over his lips. He doesn't break eye contact as he reaches forward, fingers clumsily undoing my belt buckle. I push my jeans and jock down past my knees as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the sink behind him. My throbbing cock curves just slightly upward, drumming against the marble sink. Pookie slinks backward against the mirror, hands folded to his sides. He watches as I pop the button on his jeans, slowly pull down the zipper, and pry the jeans down his legs where they bunch up at the top of pink cowboy boots. I hold one leg up to rip one boot off and then do the same with the other before ripping the denim from his body and disposing of them on the floor.

He cocks his head sideways, a curious glint in his eyes, as I shove his feet back into the boots. "What are you doing?"

"It's a kink," I say with a sly wink. "I love the feeling of boots on my shoulders."

A soft breath hitches in his throat as he begins to paw his erection over the pink fabric of his underwear, daring me to come hither. Which I do without further coaxing. I meet him at the edge of the sink, draping my forehead against his. Grab him by the chin and tilt his head up so I can easily caress his lips with my own. A soft kiss. Quick. Then, my hands are on his thighs, fingers dancing beneath the lining of his pink briefs. Another quick kiss.

I tangle the fabric of his undies in my fingers and pull them down his legs, letting his cock slip free with a slap against his muscled and hairless stomach. He chews into the bottom of his lip as I raise one leg up at a time to finish removing the briefs. Then, I rip him towards me, his ass in the perfect position for a good pounding. I palm the length of my dick and press it against his hole, lower my mouth to his, and let out a stifled moan as I press forward against his opening.

He slaps a hand against my bare chest and holds me there. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I look to the side, trying to determine if I missed a step. It comes to me rather quickly. "Right." I give him a playful nod and drop to my knees to rip open the cabinet beneath the sink. "The boys keep this bad boy fully stocked." I search through cleaning supplies and extra rolls of toilet paper to find a purple bottle of lube. "See, I told you you aren't the only one to get fucked in here." I peek up at him to find his brows arched inward, and as I'm grinning, I come face to face with his hole.

It forces me to pause as I study it as if I'm a National Geographic journalist—in its natural habitat, the hole winks in tandem with the subject's breathing, the prey practically begging for a predator to mount him.

The air is ripped from the back of my throat, leaving behind an emptiness that I can't quite swallow. My infatuation with the hole continues. I've never seen one up close like this. I mean, I've already crossed the line of fucking one, but it's astonishing just how tiny it is and how a cock can fit inside without tearing it open. I paw a finger at the rim, forcing a cock-maddening moan from Pookie's lips. The hole is so tender and pink. I rustle forward on my knees to get a better look while lubing up my fingers with a light dollop of lube.

I circle the rim with a slicked finger, and by the way his hole trembles, I can't tell who's enjoying this anatomical study more. But I get it now. This is why men pay top dollar when I drop to my knees and offer a wink of my ass. It's absolutely fucking mesmerizing. I'm surprised no man has tried to stick a finger inside. There was that one guy who licked it once.

I should fucking lick it.

I inch closer, holding a hand on each side of his crack to spread him as wide as possible. It stretches his hole just enough to open him up. I tap my tongue against it, and he shivers. And then I brush my tongue over it, and to my surprise, it doesn't have a bad taste. Quite the opposite. Salty and warm, with a faint echo of manly sweat. Intoxicating like the most potent drugs.

I manage to stick my tongue inside, lapping against the interior walls, but it's not quite enough. The back of my tongue strains as I stretch it out as far as I possibly can, my lips mouthing over the cleft of his ass. And again, this is all new to me. I mostly knew what I was getting myself into, but I didn't account for the balls drooping over my face. I finagle them with one hand to move them out of the fucking way and find myself massaging them together.

Pookie purrs above me, his toes spasming at the ends. "Please," he begs. "Can't be long."

"Fuckkkkk," I groan into his hole, wanting to savor this for as long as possible, but he's also right. The longer we're in here, the higher the risk of getting caught. I regrettably climb to my feet, drape one leg over my shoulder, and press a finger into his opening. He lets out a gasp, his mouth dropping open, and his lips trembling as he cries out in pleasure. I add another finger, stretching him wider and preparing him for what will probably be the quickest fuck of both of our lives.

"Fuck me," he begs.

And look, I'm a people-pleaser.

Pleasing people... that's what I do.

I squeeze a generous amount of lube onto my cock and give it a few complete strokes before dragging his other leg over my other shoulder. To get my cock lined up just right, I have to scoot him a little closer to the edge, and when I do, his cock bounces, leaking a pool of precum into the ridges of his abs.

"I've been thinking about this for days," I confess, giving my cock another stroke. "I've been thinking about you."

He stammers, almost like he wants to blurt out a confession of his own. But he doesn't. Instead, he just waits. Those damn puppy dog eyes begging in silence.

I shift forward, inching my way into him. We don't have time for games or foreplay, so I know I can't take my time. Thankfully, he accepts my width with ease, and maybe that's because he's so fucking turned on... I don't know, but as I reach the hilt, he grabs me by the ass and pulls me somehow even deeper. His eyes wince to a close as I still myself there, letting him get used to me. The longer I wait, the harder my grip on his thighs.

"Sweet fucking Christ, Pooks," I groan, my fingers now leaving marks on his skin. "I have to fucking move."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

A snicker gets caught in the back of my throat as I arch back, dragging my cock almost completely out of him, and then thrust forward again, hitting the deepest part of him with a gentle thud. I begin to rock in and out, savoring every moan and gasp that slips from his pretty fucking mouth.

And I can feel my release building already, his hole becoming more and more slick with every thrust—my precum combining with the lube creates a creamy whiteness on the shaft of my cock, building a dam of foam on my pelvis and around his rim.