Defenseman No. 9 - Xavier Neal Page 0,73

the ground causes me to grunt, but when he slides forward to roll his face around in my crotch, I harshly growl needing him to abandon the rest of the dance I’m sure he planned, to let me fuck him instead.

The chorus starts and my boyfriend uses it to drag his fingers up my bare calves. He uses it to tease my thighs and the hot spots located on my knees. Mixtures of moans and groans trample through the air but don’t deter his dancing.

I fucking wish they would.

My desire to fuck him isn’t decreasing in the least.

He snakes his figure back to his feet on the first line of verse two; however, every lyric after it is used to lure his black pants to the floor. Hunger grows more rampant with every centimeter of skin gradually being exposed until I reach the point where I can’t stand seeing him naked and not doing anything about it. I prepare to voice my frustrations when he spins around to roll his ass towards my face revealing a provocative sight.

“F-f-fuck…” The black silicone butt plug is a beautiful surprise in itself, but the fact it’s far from one of the smaller ones has me desperately saying, “God, I wanna put my dick there.”

Crash tosses me a heated stare over his shoulder, lower half still whirling around. “It’s ready if you are.”

There’s a painful punch given to the fabric of my shorts from my cock.

“You can practically just…slide right in.”

I wanna ask how he knows that.

I wanna ask how long he’s had it in.

I wanna ask if he’s ever given this type of surprise to anyone else.

So many invasive questions are determined to pounce from me that I’m not even sure if biting the inside of my cheek like I am can keep them caged in.

“There’s lube in my pocket,” his head motions to the ground where his pants were discarded, “and my results came back clean.”

The new information effortlessly eradicates all previous queries. I poorly stifle down my growling, hastily retrieve the little bottle of liquid, and banish my shorts so haphazardly they somehow end up knocking over a glass on the bar counter.

Those shattering sounds don’t register nor does the fact the song is repeating.

All that I care about is getting rid of my boxers and switching the plug with my cock.

Crash, instinctively, keeps his back to me to take him from behind, but having him bare is something that should be done face to face. I want to be able to see his beautiful gray eyes roll into the back of his head. I want to see his Adam’s Apple bob and his mouth struggle to suck in that breath I know he needs yet can’t stop long enough to allow him to have. I want him to know it’s me buried deep inside him. It’s me who’s making him come. It’s me who loves him and the privilege being given to me.

“Turn around, baby.”

He bashfully does.

“I wanna watch you.” Crash starts to shy away, like I’m used to when he’s under too much personal attention, forcing me to fight for that side of him that he won’t accept is worthy of admiration. “You’re fucking beautiful, and I don’t want you to miss seeing my face when I come inside you. When you make me come inside you.” My boyfriend groans in excitement prompting me to possessively grin. “Now, get in my lap, so that shit can happen.”

His arms wind around my neck while his legs spread wide.

I slather on a good amount of lube to my cock before carefully removing the placeholder. As much as I love the way it makes him tremble, I love the sound of his breath when I push inside him more. Contrary to his previous statement, I don’t just slip right in; however, it damn sure is easier.

The wet warmth of the waiting muscles is inviting and their instant constriction invigorating.

The ability to feel every tiny quiver is more than enough to turn me into a one pump type of chump.

Crash clamps his nails into the nape of my neck creating a pain so unpredictably delectable I unconsciously demand, “Harder.”

On a heavy pant, he flexes his fingers again to repeat the action. Another groan of gratification is given in tandem with me tightening the grip I have on his hips. He moans and forces himself to take more of me. To adjust to the stretching and tearing. The position presents a heavenly view of