Filthy Little Secret Read online Devon McCormack

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
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A rush of excitement even more intense than what I felt in that first encounter races through me.

He grins. He must see how aroused I am by this.

I can’t believe Keith never mentioned Tim’s kink. Perhaps he was too embarrassed. Or perhaps he just wanted to keep this special thing between the two of them.

Tim is so hard it seems as though a quick rub would have him shooting all over me.

I pull my legs back, offering myself up.

He leans down and kisses and licks my hole. His tongue flicks about, his movements scattered and yet with purpose. He slides his tongue in, and before I know it, he’s sticking his forefinger in me.

I watch it on the camera, enjoying the sensation as his touch pleasures my nerves. His elbow shifts about as he moves his finger in and out of me. Then he adds another.

I moan as I enjoy the sensations that crawl up and down my body.

He leans forward, and with his free hand, pulls my cock upright and sticks it in his mouth.

It’s sensory overload. Delight. Ecstasy. Excitement.

The tips of his hairs tickle my abdomen as he shifts about, working his tongue across the shaft and head of my cock. My toes curl as he slides his fingers deeper within me and tickles my prostate, creating a powerful sensation that leaves me trembling.

He lets my cock fall out of his mouth and slides his fingers out before he leans off the couch and fetches the condom and lube from the back pocket of his pants. Apparently, he’s always ready to play. He was planning on fucking, if not me, someone. Between all the deliveries he makes throughout the day, I’m sure he picks up quite a few tricks.

He puts on the condom and lathers up with some lube.

I keep my ass positioned for him to take me. His knees press into the couch cushions as he pushes the head of his dick onto my hole.

“I want you to beg for me to stick it in,” he says.

A part of me resists—the part of me that knows I shouldn’t let him dominate me. But another part of me is too excited not to play along.

“Please,” I say.

“That’s not good enough.”

“I need it, Tim. I need you inside me. Fucking me. Hard. Make me come.”

His left eyebrow arches higher than the right before he fills me with his hard dick.

As he touches those same nerves that his body is so good at exciting, jolts of energy race up my pelvis, through my spine, then shooting out in every direction.

Once he’s worked into me, he pushes deep and hits my prostate. A rush of adrenaline stimulates me further. Takes me higher.

He fucks me hard, hitting all those sweet places inside me. I love the sensation of being filled with him.

My face warms. I’m stiff as a board.

He kisses me.

It’s a volcanic eruption. Wild. Chaotic. A force of motherfucking nature.

His tongue slides past my lips, and I welcome it with my own.

I feel my climax rise and rise, droplets of pre-come oozing from me as his cock slides deep inside me.

I watch his tight ass in the camera, his movements swift, powerful. Each thrust reveals another beautiful contraction of his glutes.

He leans back and steadies his pace. He runs his hand through his hair before turning to see our work in the camera.

I wonder if he’s enjoying watching me as much as I’m enjoying watching him.

Am I giving the sort of performance he wants? Is this a recording he’ll be proud of?

He turns to me and tilts his head back. He lowers his body, pressing his hands on either side of my head as he moves close like he’s going to kiss me. But he never gets close enough. Just hovers.

“You like having me inside you, cocksucker?” he asks, a bit of spit trailing behind his words and hitting me in the face. “You like when I hit that spot just right, you greedy bottom?”

“Yes.”

“You spend too much time thinking. Someone else needs to think for you. Someone else needs to tell you what to do. Push you around. Show you what you like.”

“Show me. Please.”

He grips my hair and pulls back forcefully, but not enough that it hurts.

He moves even closer so our cheeks touch. His breath slams against my ear.

“I know what you really want,” he says. “You want me to totally make you mine. You want me to make you my fucking sex slave. Tell me that’s what you want.”

He leans back, a bead of sweat dropping from his forehead and landing on my cheek.

His movements are even more frenzied. And the delight rippling through me intensifies. Pre-come pools in my navel.

“I want to be your fucking sex slave,” I admit.

And it’s the truth, but I’m terrified he’ll take advantage of this weakness. That he’ll take this too far.


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