FELLATIO FRIDAY

With the neon lights of the city playing across my bare chest, the letters of my crop top gleamed like a beacon of mischief: “Fellatio Friday.” The fabric was snug, but not too tight, hugging my torso in a way that screamed confidence rather than desperation. The cool evening air kissed my shaved legs, the sensation sending a shiver up my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. At 5’7″, 160lbs, I knew I wasn’t the typical eye candy that graced the pages of men’s magazines, but the thrill of the night was in the unexpected, the unconventional. My skimpy shorts, a size smaller than what the tag suggested, whispered a promise of what might be revealed later in the night.

The bass of the music pulsed through my veins as I sauntered into the dimly lit bar. The air was thick with the scent of cologne and desire, a heady mix that had me feeling alive. I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one potential conquest to the next, each one more tantalizing than the last. The bar was a sea of chiseled abs and sculpted biceps, but I wasn’t looking for someone to bench press me into oblivion. No, I was searching for the kind of man who appreciated the finer things in life, like the art of a perfectly executed blowjob.

My gaze locked onto a hunk in the corner, his eyes as dark as the whiskey he was nursing. He had the kind of stubble that looked good enough to eat, and a smirk that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. He leaned against the bar, his leather jacket hanging open to reveal a tight, white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. The tattoos snaking down his arms told a story I was dying to read, each ink-filled line a chapter of a book I wanted to get lost in.

I made my way through the throng of bodies, the heat from the dance floor warming the chilly air that clung to my skin from outside. As I approached him, the music grew louder, the rhythm syncing with the beat of my racing heart. His eyes followed me, a silent invitation that sent my pulse skyrocketing. He took a slow sip of his drink, watching as I stopped just a few feet away, my breath hitching in anticipation. Our eyes met, and for a moment, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared.

“Buy you a drink?” I offered, my voice a smooth purr that seemed to resonate with the bass of the music. He nodded, his smirk growing into a full-blown smile that made my knees wobble. As I signaled the bartender, my fingers traced the condensation on the edge of the bar, my thoughts racing with the possibilities of the evening. The bartender slid a gin and tonic my way, and I took a sip, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the fire building in my belly.

Leaning in, I whispered, “I see you’ve got good taste in whiskey.” He chuckled, the sound as rich as the amber liquid in his glass. “And you’ve got a knack for understatement,” he replied, his voice a gravelly rumble that sent shivers down my spine. We talked, our words dancing around the flirty banter and sexual tension that was as palpable as the bass thumping around us. He told me about his tattoos, each one a memory etched into his skin, a map of his past conquests and heartaches.

As the night grew darker and the music grew louder, our conversation grew more heated. His hand found its way to the small of my back, his fingers tracing the line of my spine, sending electric jolts through my body. I leaned into his touch, my breath shallow, my heart racing. The crop top was doing its job, showcasing my toned abs and hinting at the treasure trail that led below my waistline.

“Care to dance?” he suggested, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate in the very core of my being. I nodded, eager to feel his body pressed against mine, to let the music guide us into a rhythm that was as old as time. The dance floor was a mass of grinding bodies, the strobe lights painting us in a mosaic of colors as we moved together. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer, our hips swaying in a silent conversation that needed no words.

The whiskey in his gaze had turned into a smolder, and I could feel the heat of his stare as it traveled the length of my body. My own hands found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath my fingertips. His skin was hot to the touch, and the fabric of his shirt grew damp with the sweat that beaded there. We danced like we were the only two people in the world, our movements growing bolder, more intimate with every passing second.

His hands slid up my back, tangling in my hair, and he pulled my head back to expose the column of my throat. His teeth grazed my skin, a gentle nip that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my groin. I moaned, the sound swallowed by the pounding bass, and his eyes lit up with hunger. The crowd around us faded away until it was just us, our bodies moving in a dance as old as the stars themselves. His hips ground against mine, and I could feel the hard length of him pressing against my thigh, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

As the song changed, the tempo slowed, and our bodies melded together. Our dance became a sensual grind, a silent negotiation of lust and need. His hand slid down to cup my ass, and I pushed back against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. We swayed together, lost in our own little world, until the beat dropped out and the lights grew dimmer.

He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling my ear. “You’re not like the others,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. “I can tell you’re a man who knows what he wants.” His words were a siren’s call, and I found myself nodding, unable to resist the allure of his confidence. “And what do you want?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the music.

“I want to taste you,” he said, his words a whispered challenge. My cock twitched in response, straining against the fabric of my shorts. The dance floor was crowded, but it was as if we were the only two people in the room. I licked my lips, tasting the sweetness of desire that had pooled there. “What makes you think you’re up for the task?” I teased, my hand sliding down to brush against the growing bulge in his jeans.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my neck. “I’ve got skills,” he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. “Skills that’ll make you forget your own name.” His confidence was intoxicating, a potent cocktail that had me eager to see if he could live up to his promise. The music grew louder, the lights flashing in time with our racing pulses. Our bodies moved together in a dance that was both a challenge and an invitation, each thrust and grind speaking a language of pure, unbridled passion.

Our kiss was like lightning striking, a sudden jolt of electricity that sent shockwaves through every inch of my body. His lips were firm, yet soft, and his tongue danced with mine in a duel of desire. His hands roamed my body, mapping every curve and plane with a hunger that was palpable. As we broke apart, gasping for air, I knew that the night was just getting started.

He led me through the throng of bodies, his hand firm on the small of my back. The crowd parted for us like the Red Sea, the air growing thick with the scent of lust and anticipation. We found a quiet corner, hidden from the prying eyes of the clubgoers, and he pushed me against the wall. His body pressed into mine, his erection now unmistakable against my thigh. He took my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the line of my jaw as he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth.

My hands slid down to his waist, my fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. He broke the kiss with a growl, his teeth grazing my bottom lip as he helped me free him. His cock sprang forth, thick and hard, and I couldn’t help but stare. He smirked, running his thumb over my bottom lip, smearing the gloss I’d applied earlier. “Ready to put those skills of yours to the test?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

Dropping to my knees, I looked up at him, my eyes never leaving his. The challenge in his gaze was all the motivation I needed. I took him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. His groan of pleasure was like music to my ears, a symphony of desire that had me eager to perform. I sucked him slow and deep, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him in my mouth. His hands tangled in my hair, guiding my movements, setting a rhythm that had him panting and gasping.

The crop top was forgotten, the world outside the bar a distant memory. All that existed was the heat of his body, the salt of his skin, and the pulsing beat of his cock against my tongue. I teased and tormented him, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin, my throat taking him in time and again. His hips bucked, his movements growing erratic as he approached the edge.

The fabric of my shorts grew damp with my own arousal, and I could feel my cock straining for release. But this was his moment, and I was the eager servant to his desires. My hands roamed his thighs, the muscles taut with need, my fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers. He groaned, the vibrations sending shivers through my body. His grip tightened in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me deeper.

I took him in, my mouth a wet, tight fist around his shaft, my cheeks hollowing with each bob of my head. His hips rocked in time with my movements, and the sounds of his pleasure filled the space between us. His breath grew ragged, his chest heaving with every gasp. I knew he was close, his body taut as a bowstring, and the thought of making him come undone had me hard and eager.

I quickened my pace, my hand wrapping around the base of his cock to stroke in time with my mouth. His eyes squeezed shut, and his head fell back, the cords of his neck standing out as he fought for control. The air was charged with lust, and the pressure was building, the tension coiling in my own body like a spring waiting to be released.

His breathing grew more erratic, his moans growing louder with each passing second. His hips thrust forward, and I took him deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat. He was close, so close, and the thrill of knowing I had him in the palm of my hand was exhilarating. With one final, desperate groan, he spilled into my mouth, his release hot and thick. I swallowed, savoring the taste of him, the power of bringing him to such heights of pleasure.

He leaned heavily against the wall, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes searched mine, a look of awe and gratitude that made me feel like a king. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, a smug smile playing on my lips. “Impressed?” I asked, my voice a low purr. He nodded, unable to form words, his eyes still glazed with passion.

But the night was young, and I had more to offer. Standing up, I grabbed his hand and led him out of the bar, the music fading into the background as we stepped into the cool, night air. The streets were alive with the sounds of the city, but all I heard was the steady throb of my own heart and the anticipation of what was to come.

He followed willingly, his hand tight in mine, and I could feel his excitement growing with every step. We didn’t speak, the unspoken understanding between us as potent as any words could be. We found ourselves in a quiet alleyway, the only light coming from the flickering neon signs above. His eyes searched mine, the question clear in his gaze.

With a smirk, I pushed him against the brick wall, the coolness of the night a stark contrast to the heat of his body. His breath hitched as I leaned in, my crop top riding up to expose my abs, which were now glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. I kissed him again, deeper, harder, my tongue claiming his mouth as my hands roamed his body. He moaned into the kiss, his hips rolling against me, the friction of our bodies setting me on fire.

Our kiss grew more urgent, more demanding, as we explored each other’s mouths. His taste lingered on my tongue, a heady mix of whiskey and desire that had me craving more. My hands found the zipper of his leather jacket, pulling it open to reveal the tight white t-shirt beneath. I slid my hands under the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin, the hard planes of his chest. His muscles tensed under my touch, a silent invitation for me to explore further.

He reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts, and with one swift tug, they were around my ankles. The cool air kissed my skin, sending goosebumps racing across my body. He knelt before me, his eyes never leaving mine, and took my cock in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip with a practiced ease that had me moaning. His stubble grazed my thighs, sending delicious shivers through me, as he took me deep, his cheeks hollowing with every suck.

The alley was a cocoon of shadows, the distant sounds of the city muffled by the pounding of my heart in my ears. We were lost in our own little world of pleasure, two strangers brought together by the thrill of the chase and the promise of the night. My hands found his hair, threading through the strands as I guided him, setting a pace that had me teetering on the edge of release. His mouth was like heaven, a warm, wet heaven that I never wanted to leave.

But the night was our playground, and we had only just begun. I pulled him up, kissing him hard, tasting myself on his lips. He growled, a primal sound that sent a shiver down my spine, and I knew he was just as lost in the moment as I was. He spun me around, pressing my back against the wall, his body a wall of heat that had me trembling with need. His hands roamed my chest, tweaking my nipples through the fabric of my crop top, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my cock.

I gasped as he bent down, his teeth scraping against my abs, his tongue tracing the path of my treasure trail. He knelt before me again, but this time it was my turn to watch as he took my length in his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. The coolness of the bricks against my back only served to heighten the sensation of his hot, wet mouth on my skin. His tongue was a masterful instrument, dancing around my shaft, teasing the sensitive spot just beneath the head until I thought I’d lose my mind.

He took his time, savoring every inch of me, and I couldn’t help but let my head fall back, my eyes closing in ecstasy. The world outside the alley was a blur, a distant memory of noise and light that couldn’t compare to the intimate symphony playing out between us. The smell of the city mingled with the scent of sex, the sweet musk of our desire perfuming the air as we lost ourselves in the moment.

I could feel the head of my cock brushing against the back of his throat, the tightness making me gasp. His grip on my hips was firm, his nails digging in just enough to make me aware of his strength, his hunger. I thrust into his mouth, the sound of his wet sucks echoing in the narrow space. His hand found my balls, rolling them gently, adding a new layer of pleasure to the mix.

The alley was a canvas of shadows and light, the flickering neon casting us in a strobe of colors that danced across our skin. His eyes were closed, lost in the rhythm of his sucks and licks, and I watched him, the muscles in his neck straining as he worked me over. His tongue was a maestro, playing my body like a fine instrument, each stroke and swirl bringing me closer to the crescendo.

My breath grew ragged, my hips pushing into his face with every moan. His hands slid up my thighs, and I knew he was as lost in the moment as I was. The tension grew, the alleyway tightening around us until it was all I could do to keep from coming right then and there. But I wanted more, needed more. I pulled him to his feet, our chests heaving in unison.

“Let’s take this somewhere more…private,” I managed to say between gasps, my voice hoarse with lust. He nodded, his eyes gleaming with understanding. We stumbled down the alley, our hands intertwined, searching for a place where we could truly let go. We found it in a shadowy corner, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. The brick wall was cold against my back, but his body was a furnace, keeping me warm.

He kissed me again, our tongues tangling in a dance of passion that left me breathless. His hands roamed my chest, his thumbs brushing against my sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I moaned into the kiss, my hips bucking against him. His erection was still evident, pressing against my stomach, a silent promise of what was to come.

He broke away, his eyes dark with desire as he scanned the alley. “This way,” he murmured, leading me to a nearby stairwell. The metal railing was cold under my palm as we ascended, the dim light from the streetlamps casting eerie shadows across the concrete. At the top, we found ourselves on a rooftop, the city spread out before us like a glittering sea of lights. The wind whispered across our naked skin, sending shivers down my spine.

The rooftop was a mix of tar and gravel, but the view was breathtaking. Skyscrapers loomed in the distance, their windows like the eyes of giants watching over us. The moon cast a silvery glow, bathing us in its ethereal light. He pushed me against the ledge, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of his body. His hands slid down my back, cupping my ass, and he pulled me closer, our erections pressing together.

Our kisses grew more fervent, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths with a hunger that was insatiable. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I couldn’t help but whimper, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a heady cocktail that had me reeling. He tasted of whiskey and salt, a flavor that was now forever etched into my memory. Our breath mingled, hot and heavy, as we devoured each other, our hearts pounding in time with the distant beat of the city.

With a growl, he pushed me back onto the gravel, the roughness of the stones biting into my skin. The sensation was surprisingly erotic, a reminder of the raw passion that thrummed through my veins. He hovered over me, his body a shadowy silhouette against the moonlit sky, and I reached up to trace the lines of his tattoos, feeling the power of his muscles beneath my fingertips.

His kiss grew more insistent, his teeth nipping at my chin, my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of fire along my collarbone. His hand found the hem of my crop top, pulling it up and over my head, leaving me bare before him. The cool night air kissed my skin, sending goosebumps racing across my body, standing my nipples at attention. He took one in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before soothing it with a gentle suck, and I arched into the sensation, my eyes rolling back in my head.

My own hands were busy, unbuckling his belt, sliding his zipper down. His jeans followed, and I palmed his cock, feeling the velvety skin, the heat of his arousal. He was thick and heavy in my hand, and I couldn’t wait to have him inside me. But first, I needed to show him that I was more than just a pretty mouth. I rolled us over, straddling his hips, and ground down against him, our cocks sliding together in a delicious dance of friction.

His eyes widened, surprise mixing with lust as I took the reins. I leaned in, whispering into his ear, “Let’s see if I can make you scream like you did me.” He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending vibrations through my body. “Oh, I have no doubt you can,” he murmured, his hands coming up to cup my ass, urging me closer. I leaned down, capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss as I positioned his cock at my entrance.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I slid down onto him, the feel of him filling me up sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by our frantic kisses. He was just as thick as he felt in my hand, stretching me in a way that was almost painful, but oh so good. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements, as I began to ride him.

The rooftop was our playground, the city lights twinkling like stars in the sky above us. His eyes never left mine, the intensity of his gaze a mirror to the fierce passion that was building between us. Our bodies moved together in a dance that was both ancient and new, each thrust a declaration of our desire for one another. The gravel dug into my knees, but the pain was a sweet reminder of the raw, primal nature of what we were doing.

Our rhythm grew more frantic, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying. He traced the lines of my abs, his thumbs circling my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my cock. His grip tightened on my hips, his hips bucking up to meet me, driving him deeper inside me.

The gravel dug into my knees, the pain a sweet counterpoint to the exquisite fullness of his cock. The city below was a blur, the distant sounds of traffic and laughter a muted backdrop to the symphony of our passion. The wind picked up, sending shivers down my spine, but the heat between us was a raging inferno that consumed everything in its path.

He sat up, his arms wrapping around my waist, his hands sliding up my back, his chest hair brushing against my abs. Our bodies moved in perfect harmony, the friction of our skin setting the air alight with electricity. His hips rolled in a slow, deliberate motion, each stroke hitting that spot inside me that had me seeing stars. I leaned back, my hands on his shoulders, watching the play of muscles across his chest as he worked himself deeper into me.

His breath grew harsher, his eyes never leaving mine, the connection between us as potent as the whiskey we’d shared earlier. His thumbs found my nipples again, twisting and teasing, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body. I moaned, my head falling back, the cold metal of the ledge a stark contrast to the heat of our passion. His other hand slid down, wrapping around my cock, stroking in time with our frenzied thrusts.

The rooftop was a stage for our desires, the moon a spotlight shining down on our entwined bodies. The wind picked up, playing with the strands of my hair, sending them swirling around us like a seductive veil. The coolness of the metal railing was a sharp contrast to the fire that burned between us. Our movements grew more urgent, our bodies a tapestry of need and want.

With each stroke of his hand on my cock, the tension coiled tighter within me, my moans echoing off the surrounding buildings. His eyes never left mine, a silent promise that he would take me to new heights of pleasure. The world outside the rooftop was a blur, a distant memory of a life that didn’t matter in that moment. All that was real was the two of us, lost in the throes of passion.

Our movements grew more urgent, our breaths mingling in the night air. His hand worked me with a familiarity that was both thrilling and terrifying. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me squirm with need. I could feel my orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that was just out of reach.

With a sudden move, he flipped us over, his powerful arms braced above me, his cock never leaving the warmth of my body. He began to pound into me, the sound of our flesh meeting echoing off the rooftop. His eyes bore into mine, the challenge in them unmistakable. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his back, urging him deeper, harder. The gravel bit into my back, but the pain was a sweet release, a reminder of the raw power we shared.

His thrusts grew more urgent, his hips moving with a fierce rhythm that had me gasping for air. Each stroke was a declaration of war on my senses, a battle that I was more than willing to lose. The city lights blurred around us, the world reduced to the frantic beat of our hearts, the slap of skin on skin, the ragged sound of our breaths. His abs flexed with every movement, the tattoos on his arms rippling like living art.

I could feel him thickening inside me, his cock swelling with the promise of release. His grip on my hips tightened, his breath hot and ragged in my ear. “You’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. “So perfect.” The words were a balm to my ego, a drug that had me pushing back into him, eager for more.

His strokes grew deeper, the head of his cock brushing against my prostate with a precision that had me seeing spots. The wind howled around us, a chorus to the symphony of our passion, but we were lost in our own little world, oblivious to the city’s siren song. My nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons in his flesh, a silent testament to the power of our union.

He leaned down, his stubble scraping my cheek as he whispered, “You’re mine tonight,” and I could only nod, my breath coming in gasps. The words sent a shiver down my spine, a delicious thrill of submission that had my cock leaking pre-cum onto the gravel beneath us. His hand tightened around my shaft, his strokes matching the rhythm of his hips, and I knew I was close.

The cityscape below was a blur of lights, a mosaic of colors that danced in time with the pounding of my heart. His mouth found mine again, our kisses desperate, as if we were trying to devour each other whole. His tongue slid against mine, the taste of whiskey still lingering, a reminder of the beginnings of this tumultuous night. Our bodies moved together, a symphony of passion that had me feeling like I could fly.

He pulled back, his eyes burning with a lust that mirrored my own. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a gruff whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “So fucking perfect.” His words were a balm to my soul, a declaration of desire that had me feeling invincible. I could feel the tension coiling tight within him, the tremble of his muscles as he held back, waiting for me to shatter.

The wind picked up, sending a shiver down my spine, but his body was a furnace, keeping me warm. His thrusts grew more erratic, his eyes never leaving mine, and I knew he was close. I tightened my grip on his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, urging him on. The head of his cock hit that perfect spot inside me, and stars burst behind my eyelids.

With a guttural growl, he reached down, his hand wrapping around my own, guiding my strokes on my cock to match the tempo of his hips. His movements grew more frenzied, his breath hot against my neck as he buried his face in my shoulder. I could feel his muscles tense, his whole body coiled like a spring about to snap. And then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the city, he came, his hot seed filling me up, the sensation making me shiver with pleasure.

For a moment, we lay there, our breaths ragged, our hearts pounding in time with the distant beat of the city. The wind whispered across our sweat-slicked skin, a gentle caress that seemed to soothe the raw passion that had taken us. He kissed me softly, his eyes searching my own, the intensity of his gaze a silent question. And in that moment, with the city at our feet and the stars above us, I knew that this was more than just a random hookup.

I rolled us over, his cock slipping from me with a wet sound that seemed to echo in the quiet of the night. Straddling him, I leaned down, my crop top riding up to expose my abs. Our eyes never left each other’s, the connection between us palpable, as if we were two halves of a whole that had finally found each other. I took his face in my hands, our foreheads touching, and whispered, “Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and pulled me down for another kiss, our tongues tangling in a lazy dance of satisfaction. His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight as if he never wanted to let go. We lay there, our hearts slowing to a steady rhythm, the city’s pulse a gentle lullaby beneath us. The gravel was cold and uncomfortable, but in his embrace, I felt as if I could conquer the world.

Our kiss grew deeper, more tender, as the passion cooled to a gentle simmer. His hand slid down my back, his fingers tracing the line of my spine, sending shivers down my body. His other hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek, the calloused pad a stark contrast to the softness of my skin. It was a moment of sweetness amidst the decadence of the night, a gentle reminder that there was more to this encounter than just sex.

We lay there, our bodies tangled, the only sound the distant wail of a siren, a reminder that the world below was still turning. His chest was a pillow of warmth, the steady rise and fall a soothing balm to my racing heart. I could feel his cock, still semi-hard, pressing against my thigh, a testament to the desire that still lingered between us. The wind played with the strands of my hair, tickling my neck and sending goosebumps across my body.

Jessi broke the silence, his voice a soft rumble against my skin. “We should get going,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s getting late.” I nodded, the reality of the night seeping back in. The crop top was now a rumpled mess, the words “Fellatio Friday” a silent promise that had been more than fulfilled.

We gathered our clothes, the act almost tender in its mundanity. He helped me to my feet, the gravel biting at my knees as I stood. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little too loud in the quiet alleyway. “I’m not sure my knees will ever forgive you,” I said, rubbing at the abused skin. He grinned, a flash of white in the moonlight, and pulled me closer.

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his breath a warm caress against my neck. “Come home with me.” The words were a seductive whisper, a promise of more pleasure to come. Home. It wasn’t just a place to crash after a night of debauchery. It was a sanctuary, a place where the masks could come off, and we could explore the depths of our desires without the prying eyes of the world.

I nodded, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of what awaited us. His hand in mine, we navigated the dark streets, the city’s neon lights casting us in a rainbow of hues that danced across our naked chests. The anticipation was a living, breathing thing, a creature that grew more insistent with every step we took away from the bar.

His apartm ent was a loft, a sprawling space with high ceilings and windows that looked out over the city like a king’s balcony. The walls were adorned with a eclectic mix of street art and vintage movie posters, the floor a polished concrete that felt cool under my bare feet. The smell of leather and musk filled the air, a scent that was distinctly his, and it had my cock twitching with renewed interest.

The living room was dominated by a plush, leather couch that looked like it had seen its fair share of action. The kind of couch that had stories to tell, if only it could talk. The lighting was dim, casting everything in a soft, seductive glow that made my heart race. The room was open, leading into a kitchen that gleamed with stainless steel and a fridge that probably held more whiskey than food.

He led me to the bedroom, his hand a warm presence in mine, the heat of his skin a stark contrast to the coolness of the air-conditioned loft. The space was dominated by a king-sized bed, the sheets a tangled mess of velvet and silk that looked like they’d been painted with the colors of a sunset. The walls were adorned with shelves of books and knickknacks, each one a silent testament to a life lived without apology.

Our eyes met, the challenge in his gaze now replaced with a gentle curiosity. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, and tilted my face up to meet his. His kiss was soft, almost tentative, as if he was afraid I’d vanish in a puff of smoke if he pushed too hard. His lips were warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and the sensation had me melting into him, my body responding to his touch like a plant to the sun.

The bed was a sea of sensation, the velvet sheets caressing my skin as we tumbled onto it. He pulled me close, his body a warm, solid presence that made me feel safe, even as the desire within me grew to a fever pitch. His hand slid down my side, his fingers skimming the waistband of my shorts, teasing the skin above my cock. The anticipation was delicious, a sweet agony that had me squirming against him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust as he pulled away to remove my shorts. His gaze roamed my body, taking in every inch with a hunger that had me feeling like a feast laid out just for him. I watched as he took in the crop top, the words “Fellatio Friday” a silent declaration of intent. He smirked, a knowing look in his eyes, and I felt a flush creep up my chest.

The bedroom was a sanctuary of dark wood and rich fabrics, the scent of sandalwood and leather wrapping around us like a lover’s embrace. The walls were adorned with art that whispered of his tastes, a mix of the macabre and the erotic that made my heart race. Above the bed hung an elaborate chandelier, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his skin as he moved closer.

His eyes roamed over my body, lingering on the crop top that had been my beacon of intent. He traced the letters with a finger, his eyes meeting mine with a wicked gleam. “I think it’s time we make this Fellatio Friday a night to remember,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded eagerly, the anticipation a delicious ache in my belly.

With a flick of his wrist, the crop top was off, my chest bared to his hungry gaze. He leaned in, his breath hot against my skin, and took a nipple into his mouth. The sensation was exquisite, a sharp pleasure that had me arching into his touch. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub, sending sparks of pleasure through me, and I couldn’t help but moan. His other hand slid down my stomach, his fingers teasing the trail of hair that led to my cock, now standing at full attention.

He took his time, exploring every inch of me with a patience that was both maddening and thrilling. His touch was a masterclass in seduction, each caress and kiss designed to drive me wild. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he kissed his way down my chest, his tongue tracing the lines of my abs. He took my cock in his hand, the grip firm and sure, and took me in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip before he took me deep.

The sensation was like nothing I’d ever felt before, a mix of pleasure and pressure that had me bucking my hips, my hands fisting in the velvet sheets. His eyes never left mine, the connection between us like a live wire, crackling with electricity. His mouth was a warm, wet heaven, the suction and rhythm a symphony that had me on the edge in no time. My hips rolled, my breath coming in gasps as he worked me over, his fingers playing with my balls, his thumb teasing the sensitive spot behind them.

I could feel him growing hard again, his erection pressing into my thigh, and the knowledge that I was the one driving him crazy had me grinning like a fool. His eyes never left mine, the smirk on his lips a silent challenge. “You like that?” he murmured, his voice a low purr that had me nodding, my eyes rolling back in my head. “Good,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “Because I’ve got all night.”

He pulled off his shirt, revealing a chest that was a canvas of ink and muscle. His abs rippled as he moved, each muscle defined like it had been chiseled from marble. I reached out, my hand trembling with desire, and traced the outline of a phoenix that spread its wings across his pectorals. The heat of his skin was like a brand against my palm, a promise of the fire that burned within him.

He kissed me again, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, and I could taste the whiskey on his tongue. His hand slid down my body, his fingers dancing over my cock before he took me in his mouth again. The sensation was like nothing I’d ever felt before, a mix of pleasure and pain that had me writhing beneath him. He took his time, savoring every inch of me, his tongue swirling around the head before he took me deep.

The city outside was a blur, the sounds of the night a distant whisper compared to the roar of blood in my ears. His hand slid down to my balls, rolling them gently in his palm, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure through me. His other hand found the small of my back, his fingers digging in as he took control, setting a rhythm that had me gasping for air. I arched into his touch, my hips rising to meet his mouth, our bodies moving together in a dance that was as old as time.

The bedroom was a cocoon of darkness, the only light coming from the flickering candles scattered across the dresser. Their flames cast shadows that danced across the walls, painting our bodies in a sensual tableau of light and dark. His mouth was a vice around my cock, the suction a sweet agony that had me teetering on the edge. My hands found his hair, the strands soft and silky beneath my fingertips, as I guided him deeper, our bodies moving in a symphony of desire.

His tongue swirled around the head, the pressure building until I thought I might combust. My eyes squeezed shut, my teeth gritted, as I fought the urge to come. But I wanted more, needed more. I pulled him up, my mouth finding his in a bruising kiss, tasting myself on his lips. He groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, setting my blood on fire.

With a mischievous smile, he pushed me onto my back, spreading my legs wide. The room was spinning, my body a taut bowstring ready to snap. He knelt between my thighs, his eyes never leaving mine as he leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over my skin. I felt the wetness of his tongue as it traced a path down my shaft, teasing the sensitive spot behind my balls before continuing its descent.

The first touch of his tongue to my ass was like a spark, igniting a fire that had been smoldering all night. I gasped, my hips bucking with the unexpected sensation. He chuckled, the vibration sending a thrill through me, and pressed his mouth to my hole, his tongue lapping at me with an enthusiasm that was both surprising and incredibly arousing. His hands held my thighs apart, keeping me open for his exploration, and I couldn’t help but moan, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise.

He took his time, his tongue sliding in and out of me, teasing and tasting, his breath hot against my skin. His beard tickled, sending shivers down my spine, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. His eyes never left mine, the smirk on his face telling me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. The room spun, the candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced across the ceiling, a visual representation of the tumult of emotions and sensations I was experiencing.

His fingers joined the fray, one sliding into my mouth to be coated in my saliva before it disappeared to replace his tongue, the digit probing my tight opening. I could feel myself relaxing under his expert ministrations, my body opening up to him like a blooming flower. He pushed in deeper, the sensation foreign and yet incredibly arousing. I’d never had a man touch me like this before, and it was as if he was unlocking a part of me I didn’t even know existed.

The world outside the loft was a distant memory, the only reality the warmth of his mouth on my skin, the scent of sandalwood and leather, and the pounding of my own heart. His beard scraped against my thighs, sending bolts of pleasure through me, and I couldn’t help but whimper, my body a canvas of sensation. His tongue swirled around my opening, teasing and pressing, until I felt the tip of his finger breach me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that had me writhing and squirming beneath him.

With a wicked smirk, he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ready for the main event?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise that had me nodding eagerly. He reached for the nightstand, and I watched as he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, the sight of them sending a thrill through me. He tore the foil with his teeth, his eyes never leaving mine, and rolled the latex over his now fully erect cock. The sight of him, powerful and primal, had me begging for more, my voice a desperate plea in the quiet of the room.

He positioned himself at my entrance, his cock slick with the scent of lube and desire. He paused, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. I nodded, eager to feel him inside me, and he pushed in, inch by inch, his girth stretching me to the brink of pain. I gasped, my nails digging into the velvet of the bedspread, my eyes squeezed shut as the sensation of fullness washed over me. He was gentle, his movements slow and deliberate, allowing me to adjust to the newness of having him inside me.

The head of his cock hit that spot deep within, the one that made me see stars, and I couldn’t help but moan his name. He took it as a cue to pick up the pace, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had me lifting my hips to meet his. The bed creaked beneath us, a testament to the passion that had taken us over. His hands found my hips, his grip firm as he held me in place, his thrusts growing deeper, more demanding.

The room was filled with the sounds of our breathing, the slickness of our bodies moving together, and the occasional slap of skin against skin. His eyes never left mine, the intensity of his gaze a brand that seared into my very soul. Each thrust was a declaration, a promise of more to come, and I was eager to see just how far he’d take me. The world outside the loft didn’t exist, the only reality the feel of him inside me, the smell of our mingled sweat, and the throb of his cock as it claimed me.

He leaned down, his stubble grazing my cheek as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. “You’re so tight, so perfect,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress that had me panting. His hand slid up my chest, his thumb circling my nipple, the sensation making me arch into him, my body a live wire of need. His cock filled me, stretching me, the ache a delicious reminder of his presence. With each stroke, he hit that spot deep inside, the one that had me seeing stars, and I couldn’t help but cry out, my voice a raw, primal sound that echoed through the room.

Our bodies moved together in a symphony of passion, our hips rising and falling in perfect harmony. His mouth found my neck, his teeth nipping and sucking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hand slid down my chest, his fingers wrapping around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a crescendo that had me teetering on the edge of oblivion. “I’m gonna come,” I gasped, the words torn from my throat. He growled, his own need evident in the tension of his body.

“Not yet,” he grunted, his grip on my hips tightening. “You need to wait for permission.” His words were a command, a challenge that had me biting my lip to keep from exploding. The pressure built, each stroke bringing me closer to the precipice, and I could feel the beginnings of my climax coiling in my belly. He knew exactly what he was doing, drawing it out, making me beg for it.

I nodded, my eyes never leaving his, the connection between us a live wire of need. He leaned in, his teeth grazing my earlobe as he whispered, “When I say you can, you’ll cum for me, won’t you?” I moaned, my hips bucking up to meet his, the friction of his hand on my cock sending sparks through my body. “Yes,” I managed to gasp out, my voice a hoarse whisper.

He grinned, a feral look that had me shivering with anticipation. His strokes grew faster, his thumb pressing down on the sensitive spot beneath the head of my cock. The pressure was unbearable, a sweet torment that had me panting for release. His eyes bore into mine, a silent challenge that had me on the edge, my body wound tight as a coil.

“Who do you belong to?” he panted, his voice ragged with desire. The question hung in the air, thick with lust and dominance. I swallowed, my throat dry, my voice a croak when I finally answered. “You,” I managed to gasp out, the word a declaration that seemed to resonate through my very soul. His eyes lit up, the fire in them growing brighter, and he slammed into me, his cock filling me completely.

His pace grew erratic, his hips pistoning in a wild, primal rhythm that had me seeing spots. The candlelight played across his sweat-slicked skin, painting him in a palette of gold and shadow. His hand tightened around my cock, his strokes matching the tempo of his thrusts. “Say it again,” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. “I belong to you,” I moaned, the words a sweet release that had me spiraling closer to the edge.

“Who is your Master?”

The question was a rumble in his chest, the vibrations sending tremors through me. The word “Master” rolled off his tongue with such ease, as if it was a title he’d claimed long ago. My breath hitched, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I whispered the words back to him, “You are.”

He grinned, a wolfish expression that sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise that had my blood racing. “And now, you can come for me.” His thumb pressed down harder, the sensation like a bolt of lightning, and I exploded, my cum spurting into his hand, painting our chests with the proof of my release.

He watched me, his eyes hooded with pleasure, as I rode out the waves of my orgasm. Only when I’d collapsed back onto the bed, my chest heaving, did he start to move again, his cock still buried deep inside me. His strokes grew longer, slower, his eyes never leaving mine as he took his own pleasure. The tension in his body was a delicious sight, the muscles in his arms and chest standing out in stark relief as he held himself above me.

His thumb found my clit, the touch feather-light at first, teasing the sensitive bud until I was squirming beneath him, my eyes fluttering shut. He took his cue from my movements, his touch growing more insistent, his fingers circling and pressing until I was a writhing mess of nerves and desire. The feeling was intense, a crescendo building in my belly that had me arching off the bed, my nails digging into his shoulders.

The room was a blur of candlelight and shadow, the only focus the man above me, his eyes dark with need, his cock still buried deep inside me. His movements grew more urgent, his hips slamming into mine, his breath coming in harsh pants. “I’m going to come,” he warned, his voice tight with restraint. I could feel his cock swell within me, the pressure almost unbearable, and then he was there, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He roared, his body tensing, and I felt the hot spurt of his cum fill me up, the sensation of being claimed so completely sending me over the edge again.

As he emptied himself into me, I grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him closer, the feel of his muscles flexing beneath my palms sending shivers of pleasure through my body. His skin was slick with sweat, and my grip was tight, as if I could hold onto this moment forever. His eyes squeezed shut, his teeth gritted, and I watched as he gave himself over to the sensation, his body trembling with the force of his release.