“Shit, no,” I say, pulling back and grabbing the base of my dick. “God, that was too close,” I mutter, trying to get my breathing under control. He levers off me in a flurry of movement, and when I look up, he’s standing by the sofa stripping off his underwear. He tosses the fabric somewhere. It could be Outer Mongolia for all I care because I’m staring at his cock. It’s huge, the head angry and red-looking with moisture beading the top. His balls are big and hairy, swinging lower than mine, and my mouth is watering with the desire to suck him.

“Come here,” I say throatily, and he shakes his head, his cheeks ruddy and his eyes laser focused as he gropes for his trousers on the floor. When he comes back up with a tube and a gold packet, I shudder, and he smiles darkly.

He sits on the floor, leaning back against the sofa and chucking the lube next to him. “That sofa is like a torture instrument. Get down here,” he says, fisting his cock and starting to jerk himself lazily as he eyes me.

I get up and stand over him as he runs his hands up my legs. He cocks his head, watching as I shiver when his fingers touch my hips. Obeying the sharp pull of his hands, I lower myself to sit in his lap. We both groan as I settle, and his cock rubs against my hole as if demanding entrance.

“Come here,” he says gruffly, and I lower my lips to his. We both let out a sigh as they touch, gently at first but then harder as we sink into the kiss. I press down, groaning as my cock rubs against the hair on his stomach and sends bright sparks behind my eyes. We kiss hungrily, and I shudder as his hands leave my hips where they’ve been rubbing circles, and I hear the snap of a bottle opening.

I fold my arms behind his head and kiss him harder, only to pull away as he pulls my cheeks back to expose my hole. For a second I feel cold air and then the touch of wet, slippery fingers as he rubs over my entrance, gently flirting with the wrinkled skin.

He plays there for a second as he takes my mouth again in long, slow kisses before I feel one finger slide in. I tense for a second, and he stays still, watching me carefully, his eyes like neon in the dim light.

“Okay?” he whispers and I nod, easing down on the digit.

“God, yes,” I moan, feeling pleasure race through my passage. “Fuck, that’s good. More.”