“You think I could make that a definite yes?” Austin asked, before he even realized what he was saying, let alone in time to stop himself.
Liam shot him a look that was as shocked as Austin felt.
Well, no going back now, not that Austin wanted to, if he was honest. He wanted to get this over with, break this tension, quiet this sick anticipation humming inside him. He also wanted to pleasure Liam even half as much as Liam had pleasured him tonight. After all, hadn’t Liam withheld Austin’s orgasm as a form of punishment? Did that punishment mean anything if Liam, as the Dom, didn’t orgasm either?
Austin let the blanket fall from his shoulders and leaned in closer, one hand reaching out and making contact with Liam’s hard chest. He licked his lips, out of nervous habit, at first, and then slower out of some hope of turning Liam on. Liam looked back at him with his dark, unreadable eyes. He didn’t move. Austin could see in the shifting TV’s light that his jaw was tense. Holding back?
“Please?” Austin asked, because it seemed right, because it made this craving make sense somehow. “May I?”
Puck’s head fell back against the couch, his hand around Austin’s shoulder digging in. “Yeah,” he said, and spread his legs.
Oh. He wants . . .
Austin looked to him—for reprieve? for encouragement? for strength?—then reached with both hands for the elasticized waistband of his sweats.
The grey fabric was soft and plush and warm, and under it, Puck’s massive cock stirred and started to lift, shifting the fabric. Austin stared at it in a heady, horrible mix of admiration and fucking terror.
The thing was huge. Imposing. Austin had no idea what to do with it, had no idea what it made him that he wanted to do anything with it in the first place, only knew that he was going to. Had to. Needed to.
He should say that aloud. Keeping it a secret felt akin to lying. “I need this,” he said, mouth carefully shaping each word, wanting to make it perfect.
The hand on his shoulder lifted to cup the back of his head, fingers tightening in his hair. “I know you do, buddy.”
“Why didn’t you . . .” Austin’s hands moved almost on their own, finally pulling the waistband of Puck’s sweatpants so that massive pierced erection of his sprung free.
“Why didn’t I just make you?” Puck’s mouth quirked. “Because you needed to ask for it, Austin. You needed to get to the point where you wanted it enough to ask for it yourself. No deniability now, kiddo. Nobody forcing you, nobody coercing you, nobody to blame. This is all you.”
That should have scared the shit out of him or made him angry, but it didn’t, not right then.
Because Puck was proud. Of him.
“How should I—” Austin stared at that big curved dick, almost afraid to lean toward it. Which was dumb as shit, because it wasn’t like it was gonna jump out and bite him on the face.
“Do what comes naturally to you, buddy. Give it a lick, give it a taste, hell, if you’re feeling romantic you can give it a kiss with those cocksucking lips of yours.”
Austin touched his mouth self-consciously.
“Oh yeah, you heard me. Cocksucking lips. Soft, pretty pink lips like yours are made for sucking dick. Kissing dick, worshipping dick. Lips like that, you’re gonna be a natural at this, so get in there and give it a go.”
The hand on the back of his head pushed a little.
Austin leaned in the rest of the way on his own. Parted his cocksucking lips and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the very tip of Puck’s substantial dick, taking the heavy piercing between his teeth.
“Mmm,” Puck murmured, encouraging, and gently tugged his hair.
Austin moaned, wet and breathy, around Puck’s girth. Stretched out his tongue and gave the firm, salty skin a lick. The taste made him shudder, the weight of it made him gag, but he wasn’t gonna quit now.
“Don’t be shy. Give it a little suck, huh?”
So he did. Gently at first, little tentative suckles, not sure if he was doing right, and then, when he heard Puck groan, a little harder. Bobbed up and down over the head of Puck’s dick, the way Austin liked girls to do to him.
He supposed that made him the girl. His wrung-out cock tingled and twitched just thinking of it.
Couldn’t get hard, though. Maybe Puck’s training was already sinking in. Maybe his body knew instinctively that he wasn’t going to be fucking anything anytime soon.
The bobbing motion seemed to be what Puck liked, because he grunted and pushed back against the couch, fingers scraping the upholstery. Like he was struggling. Maybe he was. After all, he never fucked Austin’s face. Never took Austin by the hair and shoved him down onto his dick. Never acted the remotest bit impatient with how timid and likely lousy Austin was at sucking dick.
Didn’t do any of the things he did to the guys in his videos.
And far from being disappointed that Puck wasn’t being forceful enough with him, it almost turned Austin on more, knowing that Puck expected him to figure it out on his own, make it happen on his own, prove his enthusiasm. Prove himself.
Or maybe Puck was trying to be a considerate lover.
Nah.
He reached out, taking the base of Puck’s dick in hand, and jerked him off as he licked and sucked on the head.
“Now you’re getting it,” Puck praised. “Yeah. Getting into this whole cocksucking thing, aren’t you?”
Austin’s jaw was getting tired. His lips were numb to the point of hurting. He pulled off, stomach twisting at the sight of his own drool all over that engorged dick, then slapped the head against his outstretched tongue. Did Puck like that? He’d certainly seen it enough times in STRAIGHT SUB SETUP.
Puck hadn’t needed to set Austin up. Austin had come to him.
A natural cocksucker. That was all Austin was. He should be on his knees on the floor. Yeah, that was where he belonged, wasn’t it?
Never letting go of Puck’s shaft, he slid to the floor, legs spread wide where he knelt, and looked up into Puck’s face. Puck stared down at him, corner of his mouth twitching.
Laugh at me, Austin thought, and suddenly it was the thing he wanted above everything else. To be on his knees for a man, to have that man laugh at how desperate and pathetic and cock hungry he was.
But Puck didn’t laugh. He swept his fingers through Austin’s floppy, half-curled bangs, and that little twitch at the corner of his mouth turned into a soft smile. “Aren’t you so pretty,” he said, and there was nothing about his tone that suggested he was trying to be humiliating about it this time.
Austin knelt there perfectly still, letting Puck get his fill of looking. Nobody’d looked at him like this before.
He didn’t know, exactly, what he was supposed to do.
A hot little blush hit the highest point of his cheeks. His eyes twitched momentarily to the left, and that seemed to break Puck’s concentration, because he shook his head a little, expression hardening, and dug a hand into Austin’s hair hard. “All right, cocksucker, not that I don’t enjoy the view, but I think it’s high time for me to get off, so I’ll give you a choice.”
Austin nodded and swallowed, forcing himself to look up at Puck and not away.
“You can either let me fuck your face and take my cum down your throat, or you can kneel there nice and pretty while I jerk off on your face and give your cute little nose a few new freckles. What’ll it be?”
“You’re giving me a ch-choice?” Austin’s hands, resting on his knees, curled into fists.
“That’s right. Boy’s choice. So?”
It was almost too much to wrap his head around. Choosing? What was the goal, here? To get what he wanted? To give Puck what he wanted? God, he didn’t know what Puck wanted! How could he possibly? Hell, he didn’t even know what he wanted!
And then he thought of STRAIGHT SUB SETUP 4 and Puck fucking Danny Domino’s face, and the horrible guttural noises Danny had made, the way the tendons in his neck had popped out, the way his face had turned almost purpl
e. And then there had been the drool and the mucus, running down Danny’s face, gushing out of his mouth in sticky clumps. Would Austin be able to withstand that? Puck obviously thought he could, or else he wouldn’t have offered.
On the other hand, it would probably hurt, that big, pierced dick battering his throat. Getting painted with Puck’s cum, though, that was so disgusting and demeaning that it made his nipples pebble.
“Come on my face.” Austin licked his lips. “Please. Sir.”
Puck’s eyebrows went up. “Sir, is it? Hmm. No, I don’t think so. Try Coach.”
Austin’s throat went dry. That word was sacred. Puck must have some suspicion of how sacred it was to Austin.
Yeah, that’s why he’s getting you to pervert it this way. He wants under your skin.
And Austin was fucking letting him.
“Please . . . Coach,” Austin said, nearly choking on the word. It was like his mouth was full of sand and dust.
“Please what?”
“Please come on my face, Coach.”
Puck grinned cruelly. He was already jerking his dick slowly, his foreskin sliding up and down the taut shaft. “Can do, sport. Chin up, tongue out.”
Tongue out?
Of course. Puck wanted him to taste his cum.
Didn’t want him to take it on the face or swallow it, he wanted him to really taste it.
Austin stuck his tongue out. Shut his eyes.
“Ah, ah. Keep ’em open. Keep ’em on me.”
He opened them again, turned them up so they were locked on Puck’s face.
Puck was looking at him too. His hand on his dick squelched with Austin’s drool, but turned to that familiar slapping sound as the spit dried. Austin couldn’t see how fast he was going, how he was holding himself, whether his cock was pulsing and ready to blow. He was looking at Puck’s face, Puck’s fierce eyes. The line of tension in Puck’s jaw, like he was either angry or concentrating really, really hard.
And then Puck’s eyelids half closed, and his lips pulled back over his teeth, and Austin knew he was about to come.
It surprised the hell out of him when the first hot, white rope of it striped across the bridge of his nose. He recoiled, but didn’t pull his tongue in, so the change in position meant the next shot hit his tongue and mouth. He didn’t think about what to do next: he spat. Puck’s cum was nasty, salty and bitter. It bubbled out of Austin’s sealed lips and coated his chin as Puck got him one last time, on his cheek.
Puck grunted in satisfaction and leaned back. “Not bad for your first time, kiddo. We’ll have to keep practicing. Teach you to keep your eyes on me and your mouth open. Hold position. Mmmm.” He pulled his sweatpants back over his dick and closed his eyes. Austin knelt there, panting and unsure of what to do next. Puck’s cum was already going cold on his face, and he was pretty sure he’d gotten a bit of it on his eyelashes. After a couple of long, awkward minutes, Puck sat up again. Now he laughed. “You look like a cat somebody threw in a bathtub.”
Austin narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, a bathtub full of cum.”
They shuddered simultaneously as the mental image of that hit them both at the same time.
“All right, all right,” Liam said, still laughing a little, and stood. Walked away, leaving Austin still kneeling like an asshole on the living room floor.
It seemed to be the right thing to do, though, because when Liam returned, hot washcloth in hand, and saw Austin still kneeling there, glazed with cooling cum, he got that soft-around-the-edges look again.
Austin blushed furiously. Yeah, maybe he could get used to a guy touching his asshole, but no way was he ever gonna get used to a guy looking at him like that.
Maybe noting Austin’s distaste, Liam coughed, cleared his throat, and knelt, gently wiping the mess from Austin’s nose and cheeks and chin.
“You have something to drink?” Austin asked, a little hesitantly, not sure if it would offend the guy.
“Sure, kiddo. Orange juice okay?”
“Beer?” Austin tried.
Liam laughed. “Yeah, there’s some Granville Island Pale Ale in the fridge. What say you get dressed, and I’ll open us up a couple bottles?”
Austin struggled to his feet, refusing Liam’s hand up and was about to pull the crusty jockstrap off when Liam caught him by the wrist.
He wagged a finger. “You’re wearing that home.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Dead serious.” Liam reached for the red-and-blue-striped elastic around Austin’s hips and snapped it against his skin. “You wanna test me?”
Austin shook his head. As gross as it was, being forced to sit around in his own cum like the bitch he was kind of turned him on, anyway. But there was no way he was going to give in to that urge without at least a little bit of token resistance. If Liam ever figured out what an eager, depraved little fag he was, it would be game over. He’d be crawling around on all fours with a dog tail plugged into his ass or something. Or—God forbid—wearing lipstick.
By the time Austin had dressed, Liam had returned with their beers. They sat together on the couch and drank, like two normal dudes, except for the whole time, their respective inside knees stayed pressed together.
And once or twice, when Liam dropped his hand by his side, it landed on Austin’s thigh, or—once, only—on top of Austin’s hand.
After Canada’s game-winning overtime goal, after Austin relived that electrifying stadium roar, it was finally time to go.
Liam walked him to the door. Waited while he put on his sneakers. And then, just before he was about to open the door, pushed him back against it. Austin thought—with stomach-dropping dread—that Liam was about to kiss him, but then he pushed their foreheads together instead, held Austin by the nape, and drew away again. “That was fun,” he said, and then his soft smile turned into a stern line. “And you’re officially forgiven for showing up here and scaring the shit out of my roommate. But from now on, you wait for my call.”
Next time, Austin thought, bewildered, and practically fell out the door.
Liam texted him nine days later. Austin knew that because he counted. He drew the line at marking off the days on the calendar, though.
Barely.
Nine days of watching more porn than ever. Nine days of finger-fucking himself, trying to re-create that moment on the floor of Liam’s condo. Nine days of trying his hardest not to jerk off. Nine days of failing. Nine days of spilling his dirty secrets to Bobby, who he realized probably had enough collected dirt on his roommates by now to destroy each and every one of them. Nine days of Bobby not destroying anybody, except for the lobotomized reanimated dead on Lobotomy Hospital while Austin watched the game play with his hands over his eyes.
Nine days of practice and workouts with his teammates, who were finally adjusting to his alternate captain position and finally forgetting all about Drew, especially now that their game was shaping up to be ten times stronger. Nine days of almost no inappropriate boners when the trash-talking got personal.
And then the ninth day, and Austin was at Liam’s place in his jockstrap again, ready for anything.
Which was good, because on the ninth day, Puck plugged him for the first time, his ass training begun in earnest.
Afterward, they had three beers each and watched a Canucks game from last year’s Stanley Cup play-offs, but spent less time watching than they did shooting the shit about prospects for the upcoming season and arguing over the best and worst trades of the summer.
It was nice, Austin realized, to be able to talk about hockey with Liam. Not because he didn’t have anybody else to talk about it with—because in Canada you were never far from someone willing to talk hockey, whether it was a bus driver or your TA or the server at any given restaurant, not to mention Austin’s actual hockey team, who of course lived and breathed hockey. But it was nice to talk hockey with someone who also knew Austin, all of him, and in that aspect, Liam was one of a kind. His teammates could talk NHL until
their faces turned blue, but the secret Austin was keeping made it sort of . . . hollow, in a way. Like in the back of his mind Austin knew that if they really knew him, knew what Liam knew, they wouldn’t be willing to argue over who was this season’s team to beat anymore. And Bobby, who did know him and still liked him, didn’t know jack shit about hockey, other than the fact that when the Canucks lost the cup on home soil, Vancouverites had a bad habit of going completely apeshit.
And who wanted to talk about that?
So in a way, Liam became the fixed point in Austin’s life: the tiny place where the disparate sides of him overlapped. And that place was warm, and safe, and good, and Austin looked forward to being there. Looked forward to every text, every dirty phone call, every time Liam showed up at Rear Entrance Video and he was on shift. Started looking forward to the aftercare in their evenings together as much as he looked forward to the play.
Which was saying quite a lot, actually, because he really, really, really looked forward to the play.
He licked Puck’s black leather boots. Wore progressively bigger plugs. Had his balls bound off or stretched by thick silicone rings. Learned to deep-throat. Assumed the position. Got tied up and even suspended in the rigging at the Mischievous Pictures studio after hours. He begged, and sometimes he fought, but no matter what, Puck always won. And when Puck won, Austin did too. And though it still made him shudder, he learned to love being called fag and pussy and slut and bitch, which Puck used interchangeably with the kinder pet names: buddy and kiddo and little guy, affectionate but still deliciously humiliating in their own way. Through it all, Liam’s steady voice cooed to him, praised him, helped him fly.
And afterward, he could always count on Liam for a warm blanket and a cold beer and a good old hockey game on the “telly.”
June moved to July, and July to August. Austin’s life was busy as hell, but he still found time to sit around waiting for Liam’s next text or booty call. In between, Rear Entrance Video was Rear Entrance Video, now with the added stress and drama of an upcoming wedding. Living with his roommates was living with his roommates, now with the added happiness and security of calling those roommates friends. Austin’s classes got harder, and his homework got more overwhelming, and his practices got more intense. His team evolved into a well-oiled machine, everybody working harder and harder as they came to realize they actually had a chance this year of making the University Cup play-offs. And while none of them were ass-kissy enough to say it aloud, Austin couldn’t help but think that maybe his teammates had accepted that Austin had at least something to do with that.
Straight Shooter (Rear Entrance Video, #3) Page 17