Twilight: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 3

my tongue until you beg for my dick.” Mason’s mouth moved below John’s navel and not talking was good because he was pretty sure that the only thing that would come out of his mouth was “Finally.” Roald didn’t kiss, and reciprocating a blow job was out of the question.
“You’re gonna scream a little when I get it in you, but then it’s gonna feel so good.” Mason’s thumbs started under John’s balls and stroked up in the crease of John’s thighs, coming to rest on his hips like he was going to hold him down.
Not necessary. John wasn’t going anywhere.
“Sweet cock.” Mason licked the head. “Anybody ever do this to you before?”
“No. No one.” Maybe holding John down wouldn’t be a bad idea because he wanted to arch up, slam his dick to the back of Mason’s throat, and as he knew from personal experience, that took a minute or so to work up to.
Mason’s lips wrapped tight around the head, tongue flicking the slit. Hot. Wet. Oh God. This was so worth…
The tongue stopped moving, the pressure eased. John brought his hands to that soft prickle of hair just above Mason’s ears.
“Mason?”
Silence. John lifted his head and then propped himself up on his elbows.
If John didn’t have a sense of proportion, he might have thought it was the shittiest thing that had ever happened to him. But shitty or not, Mason had passed out, head heavy on John’s thigh, lips slack, stuttering breath teasing the wet skin on John’s dick.
John let his head flop back against the mattress. This was so not his year.