An Excerpt from the Novel The Price of Dick By Dan Skinner
Within a couple of weeks he closed the deal. We loaded the apartment’s furniture and the boxes of our belongings into a rented moving truck and moved into the new condo. We still had only one set of bedroom furniture and a petite dining room set that was fine for a small apartment but was dwarfed by the huge open space of the new place. It would be an evolving process to add things to fill up the empty spots.
For dinner that first night we lit the fireplace, roasted hot dogs and drank boxed Cabernet. We had that fuzzy feeling of accomplishment as we talked about decorating. I was still having difficulty choosing a bedroom for myself. I figured since he was paying the mortgage, the master should be designated as his own.
His eyes were wildly static with wine in the dancing orange of the fireplace. “ I had my own ideas about that,” he said. A smile came to his lips. I noticed the first wrinkles crinkle the edge of his eyes. He was maturing. The weight loss had aged his face.
“What?” I wondered.
“Let’s make one the studio, and the other two guest rooms for when the models have to stay over.”
“But that doesn’t leave one for…”
His voice rode over mine. “And we share the master bedroom,” he finished.
“What?” He’d floored me with that.
“Not as boyfriends,” he said, clarifying. “Just friends. But that doesn’t mean we have to sleep in separate places. I mean nobody really likes to sleep alone, do they?”
I’m certain my mouth looked like a huge empty space, matching the rest of the house.
He smirked a little. “Buddies with occasional benefits,” he said with a wink. “We all have needs.”
I was still staring at him in the flickering of flames as he closed the gap between us. He pulled me to his mouth for a kiss that tasted like warm wine and hot dogs. My dick sprung immediately to life in my shorts. I glanced down. It looked like his own was unzipping his jeans for him.
The bed hadn’t even been put together yet. It’s frame stood in pieces against one bedroom wall; the box springs leaned against another. The mattress had been thrown on the floor. That didn’t hinder us as we left a trail of clothes on the stairs; clumsily making our way to it. His half-year of pent-up need spilled out in the form of passionate motion as we ascended the stairs. His kisses missed their mark, catching me on the nose, eyelid and chin in his desperation to get me out of my button down shirt.
We were naked as we fell onto the mattress, and he took me fully with his mouth and throat. His fingers dragged trails on my thighs and ass cheeks. We were moving like fumbling teenagers. A dry, anxious finger stabbed me anally, startling me, but eventually made it inside. I winced. I knew I wouldn’t last long under the powerful suction of his mouth and tongue. He was yanking my orgasm from me second by second. And then he had it. I couldn’t hold on and I fed him every drop as my pelvis took over instinctively. I heard him swallow. Big, strained gulps. Noises that proved he’d tasted me. When I was done, I found hairs twisted on my fingers that I’d torn from his scalp.
Then he flipped me. Pushed my face into the mattress, hiked my hips up so that he had my ass where he wanted in front of his mouth. His thumbs pulled hard, opening me, his tongue tip jabbed deep. I shook hard, feeling the muscles of my legs turn weak as he backed away to mount. I heard the roll of latex and then the stab of hard flesh sent a flash of pain up my spine. He pumped hard and fast and uncontrolled. There was no finesse to this fuck. He plunged deep, pulled back to the tip before plunging deep again. He was sweating more than usual. The hairs of his chest and stomach were sticking to me as if coated with glue. The bristles of his pubes were soaked as they pressed against my ass. He was making ugly, angry dog-like noises. A hungry animal devouring, taking. And then I felt the pulse of the release filling up the latex balloon. He held completely motionless and let his orgasm pump itself to completion. Then he lay atop me, long testicles drooping steamily against my own. I felt his heart thumping against my backbone and knew we would be asleep before long. I would be sore in the morning. No question about it. He was definitely alive again.