The treehouse is cramped, and I have to hunch over to even fit in here. The place is dusty, covered in cobwebs and dead leaves, and it’s probably not structurally safe anymore, but I don’t care.
I need this. My lips break away from his and trail down his cheek, past the light stubble on his neck, and down to his shoulder. The material of his T-shirt is not as tasty as his skin.
“Off,” I murmur.
“I dunno. I’m kind of scared of getting tetanus in here or something.”
I chuckle. “Fine. I’ll just have to find somewhere to put my mouth without removing any clothing.”
“Sounds like a fun challenge.”
As I get to my knees, my back scrapes the side of the treehouse. “Ouch. There’s really no room in here. I remember it being a lot bigger when I was a kid.”
Lennon laughs. “I bet.”
“This is so not how I imagined this going,” I say. I think I’ve got a splinter in my back.
“You imagined this?”
“Not exactly, but I was definitely hoping for some of this.” My hand moves over his cock, and he shudders with a small moan. “I’d planned on doing it after the game tomorrow night and worm my way into your hotel room.” My voice goes all high and innocent. “It’s too late to drive back to my parents’ house. I’m tired. I promise I won’t jump you as soon as we get there.”
“And then you were going to jump me?” He’s breathless now as I continue to rub his cock over his jeans.
“Actually, I was going to be so damn irresistible you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and you’d jump me.”
“Brilliant plan,” he taunts.
“Flawless.”
“You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Confident.” I reach for the button on his jeans.
The light mood jumps out the crudely cut window, along with all the air—if Lennon’s gasp when I unzip him and pull out his cock is anything to go by.
His legs wobble, and he lifts his hand to the low roof to steady himself. His other hand flies to my shoulder and grips tight.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” I whisper, giving him a hard pump.
His cock, long and thick, twitches in my hand.
“I’ve wanted a jock on his knees in front of me since I was a teenager.”
“No pressure,” I say and finally, finally, we both get our wish as I run my tongue over his slit and then down his shaft.
His musky scent makes my dick ache, and if anyone had asked me what I missed most about sex, I wouldn’t have said giving head. Receiving, maybe, but not giving. This, right here, looking up at Lennon’s blissed-out face while I take him into my mouth, with his glasses slowly sliding down his thin nose … I’d gladly stay in this position forever, if my back wasn’t protesting and my knees weren’t killing me.
Blowjob in a treehouse? Not a smart idea.
“God, that’s so good.” Lennon’s voice is gruff, something I’ve never heard from him before, and the aches in my back disappear. All the pain goes to my groin, my cock leaking from excitement. Or neglect. I’m not sure yet.
Lennon’s hard length slides in and out of my mouth with ease, and I wish we didn’t have clothes in the way. I want to take him all the way to the back of my throat, breathe him in, play with his balls, but through the tiny hole in his boxer briefs, I only have access to his cock. Granted, it’s an amazing cock, but I want more.
Later, a voice says.
I pull off to catch my breath and lick my way down the underside, pressing my tongue against a pulsing vein. More delicious precum pools at the tip, and I can’t take it anymore. As I take him in my mouth again, my fingers go to my jeans and hastily unfasten them, taking my own cock out.
One hand strokes myself while the other goes to the base of Lennon’s dick. I suck harder, and he begins panting.
“I’m … I’m gonna …”
I don’t move away, and as the first spurts of his release hit my tongue, I work my cock faster. He continues to fill me, saliva and cum dribbling out the side of my mouth.
I keep going until Lennon comes down from his high, his dick softening in my mouth as I lap at his cum. His grip on my shoulder loosens, and when he takes a step back, I whine. I want more. I want—
Lennon sinks to the floor, and his hand lands on top of mine, stilling it on my cock. “Let me.”
He takes his glasses off and puts them in his shirt pocket. I watch as if he’s moving in slow motion. He’s not moving fast enough.
I breathe hard, and a begging quality I didn’t know I had enters my voice when I say, “I’m so close. I need … I need …”