Buckle Up, page 5
part #1 of Commitment Series
“I don’t know Elliott,” I’m about to continue.
“What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?” Elliott is astounded.
“Well, maybe about eight inches. I didn’t measure it!”
Elliott laughs, he’s teasing me.
“You’ve had the measuring tape against yours, haven’t you?” I know his answer, but ask him anyway.
“Of course I have,” he says. “How is a superstar supposed to hook up with a small cock? I had to know. You don’t want it turning up in the tabloids that Elliott Judd, playboy extraordinaire, has a minuscule penis.”
I chuckle. “No, I can appreciate that would be a problem, but you’re not telling me you’d have changed your ways if it turned out you measured up short?”
“Well, I could. You never know.”
“You’re so full of shit,” but I give my eight inches another soft tug. Even joking around with him is hot.
“Are you cut?”
Whoa, he’s really going for it. “No.” I mutter. If I were in the toilets next to any amount of strangers, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed if they saw my penis, but here, chatting to, well, who is he? My prospective lover? Lover feels a little formal. No matter what I call him, I’m feeling the heat.
“What about you?” I manage.
“I fit a condom perfectly and yes I’m intact.”
“So you don’t know whether it’s true, that saying about it being more sensitive?” I ask.
“Well, all I can say is, I feel a lot down there without needing to have my end lopped off, and I love it.”
“OK.” I’m mute again for a while. “So, carry on telling me what you’d do to me.”
I grin as I hear him sitting up tall. “Getting bossy!” He laughs, light and carefree. My heart floods with something I’m unfamiliar with. “Once I’ve unbuttoned your pants and slid them down your legs, I’ll free your cock and take it in my mouth, just like you saw Jessie doing the other night. You liked that didn’t you?”
That’s it. My hand slips inside my underwear and I grip the base of my hard length, working it slowly up. Reaching the limit, I tease my end, clasping my fingers over the tip and slightly twisting my foreskin against the sensitive flesh underneath. “I was thinking about you doing it to me. I’m not sure I’m ready for the other way around yet.”
I ignore my subconscious use of ‘yet’, but the electricity that strikes up my body has registered it. He moans, and I know he got it too. “Hmm. I’m going to take you down my throat and give you pleasure the way only a guy knows how.”
“That does sound like an appealing idea.” I groan as my cock springs up, demanding more attention.
“Good,” Elliott drawls.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m holding my penis in my palm and wishing it were you rubbing it.” He answers without hesitation. “Tell me you're joining me?”
“You know you made me horny when you got changed in your trailer. You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”
He laughs, it’s low and throaty. “I hoped you’d come in and grab me. I wanted to throw you down on the bed and have you lying on your back. But then you informed me you’re straight.”
“I knew you did it on purpose. I admired you for trying though.” I ignore his intimation, not comfortable joining in properly for now.
“You know you’re not straight don’t you, Kyle. You get that now?”
“Well, I guess. I’m here jacking off while on the phone with you, but I’m not ready to put a label on anything yet. I’m just happy to accept that when you kissed me, it was incredible, and I wanted more. I’m just not sure if it comes down to it, whether I’ll back out, that’s all. I don’t know if this is fantasy or reality.”
“Well, whatever it is, you drive me crazy. Let’s enjoy this moment and see where it leads,” he breaths.
I hesitate, wanting nothing more than to take the next step, but struggling to untie the invisible string that’s tying me to an accepted way of living my life. But, in that pause I have time to remind myself that this isn’t anyone else’s life.
“Do you trust me?” Elliott asks.
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“Well you should. This is between you and me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I sound so formal in the throws of what is a pretty heady conversation. So stilted and virgin like.
“So, do you trust yourself?” Elliott’s voice is soft, part teasing and part caring.
And in that moment, I make a decision to trust everything and nothing. “Let me hear you come,” I growl.
Elliott
His low voice is so fucking sexy, but when he says, “Let me hear you come” down the phone, I almost explode in my hand there and then.
His breathing is heavy, labored, growing more rapid as I gasp amidst a building crescendo of pleasure. It’s the struggle, his inability to focus on taking in air, that show he catches the gliding of my cock, lathered in lube, as I twist it in my fist.
“You sound awesome,” Kyle rasps. “Describe what you’re doing.” I hear his hand moving with a more frantic pace.
“I’m lying back on the hotel bed, eyes shut, head propped against the pillow, so I can keep your voice close. I’m imagining you on this enormous mattress with me, your delicious mouth wrapped around my shaft. I’m moving my hand up and down as I think of you. You’re naked, straddling my face, your cock rigid, allowing me to work you.”
“Ohh,” Kyle oozes.
“You feel incredible. Your tongue is tasting my aching arousal... I’m holding myself back,” I continue as I slow down, determined not to finish before we’re ready. The hotel room TV is on mute. The light changes as the screen flashes, but I keep my eyes closed. “I can see you tremble as I tease you. It’s so fucking hot. You’re begging me to enter you.”
“Go on, do it,” Kyle instructs, and although I know we’re only playing fantasy, I can’t help but marvel at how far he’s come in such a short space of time.
“I’m swiping my finger around your rim. Your eyes are rolling back in your head, and you’re struggling to focus on my mouth because the way I am touching you is so fucking hot.”
My words are running fast now, keeping pace with my rapid-fire breathing which matches the movement of my hand as it skims up and down with ever more ferocity. I’m breathy as I continue, “I’m parting your cheeks and squirting a stream of cold lube down your crack. Your hips jerk forward from the shock of the cold.”
“Oh, God, Elliott... I’m getting close.”
The thought of him getting off on the other end of the phone because of what I plan to do to him is thrilling. My hand jerks up and my breath catches. I stop talking and nip it, concentrating on holding back. The phone shakes against my ear as I tense my jaw, my body rigid, clinging on for dear life.
“I tease, the tip of my finger inside you. You moan, I slide further, and you widen allowing my knuckle past to enter you. I’m in, up to the base of my finger now, and I find your sweet spot, massage it, and you groan, sitting back onto me, feeling me slip deeper.”
“Uhhh.” Kyle lets out a guttural sigh as he releases, which is enough to push me over the edge. I join him, panting as my head explodes with the pressure releasing from my groin, and I thrust upwards, dropping the phone from my shoulder.
I scramble for it, reconnecting in time to hear a breathy, “Wow.” We both fall quiet as we lie, satisfied, in our own thoughts.
“What are you thinking?” I ask after a few moments.
“That was pretty awesome and I’m wondering whether I’ll ever actually be up for the real thing.”
Let’s hope so.
Instead of sharing my thoughts, I reply, “Listen, there’s no pressure. We can do this at your pace. I’m not going to push you into anything. We can enjoy this and let it play out.”
I’m quite proud of myself because I mean what I say, and that level of patience is so unlike me.
‘But why am I so prepared to wait for this guy?’
Kyle
I’m going out of my mind waiting for Elliott to return. It’s been great for work, not having him muddling my concentration, but wretched on my emotions. Since our phone sex the other night, I’m up for trying more, so when the day comes where he’s finally going to materialize, I can’t stop looking at the clock. I’m ready to head off and spend some personal time with him.
Except, it doesn’t get that far.
“Hi guys.” He saunters into the garage whilst I’m buried to my elbows in grease.
Not only was I not prepared to see him right now, but I’m also not prepared for just how fucking amazing he looks. He’s dressed in his formal uniform, white logoed shirt and standard issue trousers. But they’re far from standard issue. Elliott Judd doesn’t wear anything that isn’t tailored to bring out the best of him, and his uniform is no exception. His shirt cinches in at his belt with just enough to show off his toned abs. And the way his butt looks with that thick cotton hugged around it -- need I say more?
His relaxed curls frame his face, and I resist the urge to run a finger under a wave and push it behind his ear before resting my hand on the back of his neck. I imagine him claiming my lips in that kiss as I do, the hunger of his fiery heat, exploring inside me, curling and probing, his intense seductiveness still lingering in every crevice of my body. His jaw has grown a layer of blond stubble while he’s been gone, and his pink lips are pursed as he studies the alterations we’ve made to the car in his absence. He’s so close, the energy pulsates between us, yet still we don’t touch.
His flame blue eyes burn into me. I raise my head and let them meet mine. A lazy smile forms on his lips, as we languish in our proximity.
“Don’t hang about, lad. Go get ready for testing. We’ve been waiting for you. Can’t wait to see what you can do with this baby now,” Greg hollers over the hum of busy workers.
“Oh, I’m planning on riding this baby hard,” Elliott shouts back across the workshop. Only I understand his inferred meaning, and I can’t help it, my chest puffs -- just a little.
“Kyle, come with me and explain what you’ve been working on while I get changed.”
Jesus, is he kidding me?
I shoot a questioning glance in Greg’s direction.
“Sure, off you go,” he says, waving me out of the garage. I shrug my shoulders and wipe the grease from my arms on an old rag.
Fine by me!
As soon as we’re in Elliott’s private quarters at the back of the pits, he kicks the door shut. It slams in the quiet hallway. That’s his signal. He pounces on me. His chin rubs into mine, and then from nowhere, pure, unbridled passion overtakes every single rational thought and our mouths come together, connecting with a force that parts our lips in a mutually furious kiss. He runs his sinful mouth down my throat and around my neck. He grazes every inch of my available flesh with his teeth, and I gasp as the sharp pinch of pain sends my cock pulsing.
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes.
His hands are everywhere, running inside my t-shirt and up my spine, whipping around to my front and palming over my solid wall of male chest.
I tug his shirt. Then sigh as I finally touch the smooth skin on his back, feeling the heat of his desire as sweat starts to form in the arc of his spine. I run my hands to his chest, fiddling with his buttons, struggling to undo them.
“Don’t worry about that.” He steps back briefly, pulling the restrictive garment over his head, buttons intact. I take a mental snapshot of his rippling muscles as he shifts, logging it in the wank-bank for the next time he’s away.
The force at which he slams against me whips any remaining breath I had from my lungs.
He pushes his hips backwards, leaving only enough room for him to maneuver one hand between us. I loosen the buckle on my leather belt. My shorts fall around my ankles and he’s on his knees.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs.
Elliott
I follow the dark treasure trail down from his chest and my eyes linger at his stiff shaft. He’s just as I expected, wide, long and so fucking solid. He’s pulsing, his thick veins ready to burst.
We don’t have much time; people will start to wonder where we are, so I take him in my mouth. All the way.
He gasps, leaning his head back against the closed door, hands resting on my shoulders, fingertips digging in.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you,” I say, while still encircling him with my mouth. The vibration of my voice makes him groan. His dick pulses down my throat, and I swallow compressing his throbbing end within my hot chamber.
His eyes are squeezed shut now. “Fuck. Elliott. What the hell are you doing to me?”
I laugh, release his tension a little, slide him higher, pop him out of my mouth, and suck his bulbous tip, swallowing his salty precum. Riding my tongue around his ridge, I tantalize him, sending him to the edge of a cliff and then bringing him back, repeating the motions over and over again until I’m aware of nothing other than the insane way I’m making him feel.
Loosening my shorts, I free my cock and wrap my fingers round its base. Gripping tightly, I work it up and down, while delving deep with my mouth, sliding back up to the top. The erratic speed unsettles him. His eyes spring open and I melt in the warmth of their ganache pools.
“Come here.” He beckons me to stand, pulling me up until my body slides against his and we are standing chest-to-chest.
'Oh, God.' I think. His tribal tattoo stretches from his arm and across his trimmed chest, a tantalizing path which leads to nowhere, and yet everywhere I’d love to touch. Dark hair runs over it and my desire to hold out my fingers and press them against it is all consuming. I run my fingers over the pattern, tracing the line from left to right before diving low as I trail over his stomach, letting my hand wander further south.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in, holding my length with his other.
“Is this OK?” he checks.
“It’s more than OK Kyle.”
He smiles, dipping his eyes. “I’ve just never done it before, so tell me if I do something wrong.”
“Oh, I will.” I grin, but my hooded look does nothing to disguise my passion and we kiss as we stand facing each other. My hand rubs up and down his rigid length. Our teeth clash as our movements become more frantic. Our mouths are locked in a furious embrace as we work hard for the other’s pleasure.
He sucks in air and then groans, “Oh, Elliott” into my mouth. His excitement thrills my body, stimulating every nerve. My toes curl and I let loose, just as he does, the evidence creaming over our chests and hands, a release of pent up need splattering over us in heavy bursts. We crash onto each other, still leaning against that door, having made it no further into my changing room.
And then we laugh. We laugh in elation that after all the false turns, we’re finally there. It was good. We both know it. And there’ll be more.
My lips ghost over his. “Come on. We’d better take a shower and get down to the pits before someone notices we’re missing.”
He grins. “I’ll go first. You’re the star of the show, you can follow me in your own time.”
“I’ll watch. If I get in with you, we’ll never get out,” I say.
“You will not watch, because we both know how that will work out,” he says as he passes through into my private shower room, leaving the door ajar.
Kyle
Time slows. I am being watched and Elliott wants a show.
I become acutely aware of how external factors affect the way my body moves as I step into Elliott's minuscule shower. The sound of my toes gripping the plastic tray is deafening. The spray of water, cold at first before turning warm and steamy is sensational on my skin while the thousands of piercing needles slicing into my chest is painful in my hyper sensitive state. I react strongly to it all. These sensations are far more noticeable now that Elliott is watching, and every move I make has an erotic undertone which screams out in the silence of the mundane.
I’m conscious of having to return to my unsuspecting work colleagues, so I lean back to avoid the jet streams from soaking my face and hair.
I have to get back, but I know there’s just enough time to put on a show.
The spray of water and rising steam are rapidly building on the shower door, blocking Elliott’s view. I sponge the glass, heart slamming against my ribcage, to allow him a sliver through which he can view me running my hands over my body, ensuring it’s sufficiently drenched before pouring Elliott’s body wash into my palm. I lather thick streaks of foaming wash over my skin and swirl my hand around my satisfied cock which begins to stiffen.
Elliott groans from behind the crack in the door, triggering my imagination to run wild. I mentally scroll through the images I’ve committed to my memory of his sensual mouth, coiling tongue, moist lips, and yes, his stiff length rubbing against mine. I must concentrate. I have to go back to the pits. And soon!
But it’s almost impossible. I feel his eyes boring into me, their heated gaze locked onto my every move, appreciating each small piece of my private self. Intimate moments only ever shared with a sexual partner, by their very nature now signifying a relationship status that has moved forward another notch.
I grab the shower head and run the steaming water over the suds. They run down my flesh and pool by my feet before sinking down the drain. I’m left totally bare, devoid of even the most meager layer of protection. I shut off the water and step out, grabbing a towel off the rail on the side. Its rattle echoes in the silence.
I don’t have time to wrap it round my waist and put on another show, so instead I am content with quickly drying off. The rough fibers of the towel brush my nerves alive and my skin puckers.
My display over, I step back into the changing area to find Elliott laid on the bed, resting on his elbows, legs lolling off the edge of the mattress, spread wide.
