side,
Kinzer’s dick rushed in.
He reared his head back. It was the most painful, but the
most delightful sensation he’d ever experienced. His head tossed back and forth as he writhed in the delicious sensation that poured through his back, as if his nerves had been shot ful of morphine—
everywhere except his ass. Pre-cum projected out of his head, onto the carpet.
It was too much for him to handle. He caressed his hard
cock against the floor, forcing it against the rough carpet. His cock
83 Devon McCormack needed relief. It needed to come.
“Harder, harder!” he begged. “Please, harder!”
Kinzer released Dedrus’s wrists and pressed his hands against
the back of his wings, arching his back, pushing his abs forward, as he thrust with al his might in and out of Dedrus’s ass.
Dedrus knew he should be quiet, considering how many
people were probably sleeping, but he couldn’t. He screamed out.
Dedrus struggled against his cock’s desperate attempt at
climaxing. He moved his ass in circles, another move that he’d
acquired through his profession.
It must’ve been more than Kinzer could handle, because
Dedrus felt him swel . He loved knowing that Kinzer was filling his hole, his come spewing deep inside him. And a quick thrust as
Kinzer’s dick slipped across his own come sent him deeper in
Dedrus than he’d been before.
Dedrus’s cock was like a gun as a runny, translucent pre-cum
preceded a flurry of thick, white pockets that soared through the air and scattered across the carpet.
Dedrus’s legs quaked. His back trembled.
Oh, I fucking needed that .
~
Kid stood before the door.
The minituresque room reminded Kid of some of the
fucking rooms at Jerry’s, except it was far less empty. On the far end,
CLIPPED 84
by a window, was a twin bed. The comforter and pillows were piled together in the middle. Across from the bed was a desk with an old computer and printer. Surrounding it were mounds of paper. Books and CDs were scattered across the floor.
“My only rule is,” Treycore said, “don’t fucking hog the
covers.”
He unbuttoned his shirt.
Kid eyed the twin bed.
“Um,” Kid began, “maybe I should just sleep on the couch
downstairs.”
“Are you saying you’re a cover hog?”
“What? No. I just don’t want—”
“Then don’t be stupid. No reason to sleep on the couch.
We’re al adults. We can share a fucking bed, right? What? You
worried I’m queer?”
Kid shook his head. Although, he’d hoped.
Treycore undid the last button on his shirt and slipped it off.
It took a bit of effort, considering how tight the shirt was against his flesh. Kid’s eyes fixated on the curves at the edges of his abs, the sculpting just under his plump chest. Treycore had tiny, perky
nipples. Kid’s mouth salivated as he imagined licking, titillating them. Treycore tossed Kid a suspicious glare.
Kid’s eyes raced around. Had he been caught?
“You gonna get ready for bed?”
85 Devon McCormack
“Oh, yeah,” Kid said. He walked over to the bed, sat, and
untied his shoes.
“You younger mortals smel worse than the old ones,”
Treycore said, unzipping his jeans. He pul ed them down with his underwear, revealing his massive cock.
It was even bigger than Kid had realized at the bar. And he
wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. It almost seemed too big for any human to take.
Treycore’s ass muscles shifted about as he walked by a door,
opened it, revealing a closet, the bottom piled with clothes. He threw the jeans and underwear on top of the others and forced the door back shut.
Kid slid his jeans and shirt off. He slipped under the covers,
trying to keep Treycore from seeing his rock-hard erection.
Treycore opened another side door and stepped into a
bathroom.
“You need to wash off?” he cal ed out.
Kid heard a creak, fol owed the sound of running water.
“No. I’m good.”
What he real y wanted to say was, “Yes, and will you fuck
the shit
Landon Dixon, Giselle Renarde, Beverly Langland