Look At You

Oren

This is a continuation of chapter 24.

With the leggings in hand, I step back into the closet and pull them on.

The fabric is soft and airy. It hugs my body like skin and feels magical under my hands. Once they’re in place—Albie’s right, they fit fine once on my body—I look into the mirror and stare. Well… there’s my junk. Okay, maybe a jockstrap isn’t what you’re supposed to wear under leggings.

Twisting again, I look at my ass and suddenly it’s far more impressive. I’m not sure why, but I’m actually kind of impressed. The leggings somehow shape it and grip my ass so each cheek is prominent.

“Huh,” I say.

This shirt no longer looks right, so I pull it over my head and grab one of the ones that Albie sent. It’s short, barely reaching the waistband of the leggings, and loose. Long sleeves and silky as a cloud.

I stare at myself and… don’t recognize me. I’m not even sure my face looks the same.

“Look. At. You.”

I jump at Adak’s voice and stare at him with wide, horrified eyes. Hell! How did I not hear him come in?!

My skin heats but then… the way he’s looking at me. He… likes it.

Adak holds his hand out and I place mine in his. He pulls me closer, spins me around slowly with my hand over my head. My skin is so fucking hot right now.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

When he’s looking at me like that? I feel beautiful. “Good,” I whisper.

His head tilts. “You sound unsure.”

“I also feel self-conscious,” I admit.

Adak nods. With his hand cupping the back of my head, he pulls me flush against him. His mouth covers mine and he kisses me. It takes my breath away. “You’re stunning, Oren. Simply breathtaking.”

I shiver. “You like it?”

“A lot.”

A smile that feels a little more sure spreads.

“Come here. Let me touch you for a while.”

I’m not sure if I groan or whimper or whine but yes, please. Oh, yes, please!

Keeping my hand in his, Adak leads me back into the bedroom where there’s still a small pile of clothes from Albie. He ignores them, bringing me around the side and then urging me on the bed. When I lay back, the shirt rises and the cool air brushes my skin.

Adak’s eyes find that sliver of skin. With his hands on my hips, he moves me along the bed as he climbs over me. Even in gym shorts and a tight tank, he might as well be naked for how much I drool when looking at him. I’ve never seen someone more stunning. If this coaching thing doesn’t work out, I’m going to suggest modeling.

Or maybe not. I don’t want everyone drooling over him.

He spreads my legs, moving between them and I nearly forget how to breathe when he leans in and buries his face in my stomach. The soft scratch of his beard makes my muscles jump, but it’s his lips skimming across my skin that takes my breath away. And then the feel of his hot wet tongue turns my brain off.

His kisses are slow, as if he’s tasting and savoring every part of me. His face rucks my shirt up higher so he can access more of my skin. The way he’s moving over me isn’t necessarily sexual in nature. But my dick has been starved for attention since puberty and it doesn’t know the difference.

Which only makes me more self-conscious since you can literally see everything in these leggings. I might as well be wearing nothing.

Adak’s hands move to my thighs and under them. Around and up before sliding down to my knees. I think he’s just as mesmerized with the fabric as I am. The thought is confirmed when he asks, “Where did you get these? Does heaven have a consignment shop?”

I laugh. “Sure. His name is Albie.”

His eyes flicker to mine. “Albie?”

Nodding, I say, “Albie Daunt.”

Most people know his name, even if they don’t know why it’s familiar at first. I watch Adak’s face as he tries to figure it out. Eventually, he just nods and presses his face to my stomach again. I’m not sure if that means he knows Albie’s name or not. When his mouth continues to taste my skin, I decide that I don’t care either way. Albie who?

My hands tangle in his hair, moving slowly through the short, soft strands. I wonder if my hair is this soft. I’m distracted from comparing the softness of our hair when Adak’s mouth dips lower and he buries his face in my crotch.

I groan and try desperately hard not to wiggle around too much when everything inside me is trying to thrust my hips closer. “Have you been told you have a nice dick?” Adak asks.

Breathless laughter bursts out and I shake my head. There’s a chance I flush, but then again, who knows? I might already be burning up just from his hands on me.

“It’s perfect,” Adak says, as his nose and mouth run along my length through my leggings. It’s a strange sensation of both being touched and the frustration of not feeling him enough. “The right length to suck without it reaching my lungs but I can still choke on it a bit.” He nips my crown and I gasp. “Perfectly shaped head—not too big or small.” He skims down my length again until I’m shaking when his mouth rubs against my balls like he’s a cat marking me. “Such big balls too.”

I’m going to come just like this. I can tell.

The yelp or weird mewling sound that comes out of my mouth when he takes my left ball sac gently between his teeth has me arching my back. Torture. This is torture and madness.

Adak chuckles. “Roll over, sweetheart. I need to see your fine ass.”

“Can’t,” I say when he leans back on his haunches. “Can’t move.”

His grin is wide. “Let me help you.”

He rolls me gently until my face is buried in the twisted sheets and comforter. I barely get my arms on either side of my face when Adak spreads my legs again. It’s one thing spreading yourself wide when you can see the person looking at you. It’s an entirely different sensation when you can’t see them.

Adak’s hands move up the backs of my legs and further to my ass. His hands fit over my cheeks in the perfect cupping way. He jiggles them, making me burn hot. Then spreads them, which doesn’t do anything but somehow crank the flames melting my face from burning star to blazing sun hot.

I make some weird sound when his face is suddenly between my ass cheeks. This time I can’t stop myself when my body jerks, no matter how much I try. It’s a strange feeling of fuck, more! and what the hell is he doing there?

His tongue touches me through my leggings, and I can’t tell if I’m relieved they’re there or wishing they’d melt under the heat of my skin. Am I clean enough for this? How thoroughly did I wash this morning?

One thing’s for certain, I can’t stop the disturbing sounds coming from my mouth. They’re not necessarily loud—thank god—but I’m not sure they’re human either.

His fingers tuck beneath the waistband of my pants and my ass randomly shoves into his face. Needy, slutty ass! My god, it’s so embarrassing!

Adak doesn’t seem to care. Or notice. His face is still pressed between my cheeks as he slowly pulls down my leggings, and my underwear with them. One efficient move to have my lower half naked.

But slowly. He’s an expert in torture. There must have been classes on it when he learned how to coach.

I’m on my back again, though I’m not sure when the world spun. Adak isn’t between my legs now as he pulls my leggings down. Still slowly. The grip of them has my dick being pulled too. Until finally, it springs back and slaps my stomach. Adak smiles, looking quite satisfied.

He’s not quite as slow to remove the leggings the rest of the way. They come off quickly and are tossed on the pile of clothes to put away. I watch as he looks at me and my dick.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he doesn’t have to touch me if he doesn’t want to, but then his hand closes over my cock and the words are cut off. This is only the second time he’s touched me like this. The first being just a few mornings ago when I got hard in bed while we were kissing.

“You look tense,” Adak says.

Probably because my jaw is clenched. I might be trying to keep my excitement contained so I don’t go off like a water pistol.

He chuckles. Maybe seeing what my struggle is.

Once again, he spreads my legs and settles between them. I watch in horror as a river of pre-cum leaks from the head of my dick. It feels like no one’s face has ever been this close to it. And it’s Adak!

“Is it okay if I put you in my mouth, Oren?”

I groan. It’s long and shudders through me at his words. Especially since I can feel his breath on my cock.

“Yes,” I manage to squeak out. “But you don’t have to.”

I feel him smile more than anything else because even though I’m trying to keep my eyes open, as soon as his mouth touches my bare dick, they close.

His tongue, so fucking hot and wet, slides along the bottom of my cock. The tip lodges just under the ridge of my crown and then flicks off, making me jerk. But when he puts my mushroom tip in his mouth, I’m just done.

Thoughts scatter and become incoherent. All I can do is feel—his mouth on me and the way my arousal pulses and consumes every inch of my body. It touches every cell. Every molecule that makes me, me.

An inferno rises as he takes me to the back of his mouth. My body moves on its own, my knees lift to box his head in, my hands grip his hair like I’m hanging on for dear life, and my back arches.

And yet, that’s all nothing compared to the moment he starts to actually suck my dick. I might be crying. Babbling. Praying. Worshiping Adak. His mouth. His touch. My hips jerk on their own. I’m so close almost right away.

Even if I wanted this moment to last, there’s no way that’s possible. My orgasm moves through me like hot lead, spreading into all the crevices and cracks as I hiss and cry out from the sheer intensity of it.

It only lasts a short time, but I can still feel the heat after the initial burst for minutes after. My body twitches and I can’t make the smile on my face fade.

“First blow job?” Adak asks as he settles partially overtop of me, wrapping around me like a blanket.

“That obvious?” I slur.

He chuckles. “A little. I could listen to you howl all day though.”

And now I’m flushing again. “How do people stay quiet?”

His lips move along my neck, my jaw, just below my ear. I can feel his smile and it makes me smile, too. “Don’t ever be quiet,” he murmurs, his teeth tugging on my earlobe. My damn cock twitches again as if it hadn’t just been pleasured three minutes ago. “The sounds you make are sexy as fuck, Oren.”

It feels good to hear. I sigh. “Does this mean you like the leggings?”

“I’m not sure I want you to wear them in front of other people,” he says, and I grin. “Yes, I like the leggings.”

It takes me a few minutes to realize that this is what a compliment feels like. The way it fills me with… assurance, makes me feel good. I feel a little better about myself. I’ve never been too self-conscious; it’s unnecessary when most of my figure and body were hidden under what my father considered ‘appropriate masculine clothes.’ I wasn’t a shape at all.

The leggings definitely showed me I have a shape. It’s not very big but they emphasize all of it.

“You can wear them out of the house,” Adak says. “I’d never actually tell you what you can and cannot wear. You know that, right?”

I turn my face to his. We’re too close to be more than a double vision but that’s okay. “I know.”

“Good.”

We’re quiet as we lay with our faces pressed together. I can smell myself on his breath. This is the perfect way to spend a day.

“For the record, that wasn’t my first blow job. Just the first good blow job,” I say. Adak chuckles.