by Neve Wilder
When I was breathless and panting, and my heart slamming against my chest so hard it seemed it should’ve have filled the air around us with its racket, Eric lifted my shirt off before sliding a touch down my arms and planting my hands on the counter.
“Up against the counter? I’d have thought you’d get more creative than that,” I teased as he ran one hand down the midline of my torso and let it drift lightly, tauntingly over the fabric straining at my groin.
“Mmm.”
That murmur, damn that murmur, all velvet-soft promise of devious things. My nuts tingled every time he did it, like they were warning bells chiming before the door to my libido was blasted wide. Swallowing hard, I gripped the counter tighter as Eric’s fingers moved lower to the top of my thigh, where he pulled up the leg hem of my shorts and slid his hand inside, fingertips lightly caressing the gulley where my leg met my groin. My back arched violently, and I tilted my hips slightly, pushing into his touch.
“You’re looking a little flushed, baby. You hot?”
“Sweltering. I swear I fucking turned the thermostat down but…” I trailed off when I recognized the dark twinkle in his eyes. He angled a look at the glass I’d set down on the counter, condensation dripping down the side as the ice within melted. Oh yes, oh fucking yes, please.
I think I said that aloud—at least part of it—because next he dipped those long, quick fingers into the glass and fished out a gleaming wet cube.
“Maybe you need some help cooling off,” he suggested.
“Oh, I definitely do. I’m getting a strong porno premise vibe here, and I’m totally onboard.” The way my dick strained like it was trying to punch through my shorts and how close I was to panting, I figured I was a heat stroke risk not even a tub of ice could prevent if Eric was anywhere in the vicinity. But fuck if I was going to do anything to dissuade him.
He winked at me, and that wink might as well have been a telegraphed message tapped out against my cock as he popped the ice cube in his mouth, crushing it to bits before he leaned in and licked over my lips. Icy slush dribbled down my chin, dropped onto my chest, and bloomed in a delicious chill.
“Oh fuck me,” I whispered, mentally taking back what I’d just said about him not being creative and tilting my head back as he picked up another cube to drag a cool wet trail from my sternum up to my throat. My body didn’t seem to know whether to shrink away from the cold or to press into the accompanying heat of Eric’s hand. Somehow it was trying to do both, and I squirmed side to side in the cage of his body as he drew the ice up over my chin and glided it along my lower lip.
“Not yet but very soon,” he murmured, the drawl of his voice just as warm as his skin. “Open,” he commanded, and when I did, he cupped my jaw in one hand and slid the ice cube over my lips and just behind, running it over my teeth with a soft click of sound before guiding it down my chin. Cool liquid collected in the hollow of my throat and spilled over, streaming down my chest like a gentle caress.
“You know how much I love making you come? How much I love fucking your ass, sucking your cock—” He traced the head of my cock through my shorts with his other hand. ”—making your whole body shake?”
“Mmph.” I exhaled the affirmative, because I knew he loved it as much I loved him doing it. “But maybe I need a reminder.”
When he circled the cube around my nipple, it tightened up so fast I actually felt the pinch of flesh hardening. I dropped my head back and let out a quiet moan. More ice, more slow spirals of blessed coolness moving over my skin. I hardly even noticed Eric had unbuttoned my shorts until he wrapped his cold hand around my cock and I jolted, my eyes flying open as I yelped in surprise. Eric snickered and soothed the ice-water shock electrifying my shaft with his other hand, which felt like a sleeve of fire in comparison. My stomach caved in on itself, and my dick didn’t know whether to retreat or press the offense. Cold, hot, cold, hot. The temperature differences chased each other over my erection in alternating strokes and, fuck, it was amazing.
Eric shoved my shorts farther down to my knees and freed his own cock, still stroking me in between. I reached for his dick immediately, gripped him tight, and smirked at the sharp look of lust that passed through his eyes and made his eyelids droop to half-mast. For a second, he forgot all about his ice crusade as he leaned into the slow caresses up and down his shaft. I ran my thumb over his foreskin, stretched it back, and dipped into the precome oozing from his slit over the swollen crown of his cock, catching the hard shift of his Adam’s apple from the edge of my vision as he swallowed.
“You’re close. So fucking close,” I taunted, thumbing at his head again. His gaze lifted from where he’d focused on my thumb rubbing over his crown and met mine, slitted and hazy with arousal. “Bet if I kept on playing with your—”
He caught my hand and stilled it as he bullied into me and turned me around.
“Can’t even answer, huh? Damn.” But I glimpsed a sliver of his grin before he palmed the back of my head and angled it down.
His lips brushed over the nape of my neck, so warm that the sudden cold that came next made me twist to one side in protest. The chill moved down my bare back in a lazy path as Eric laughed softly. He pressed his mouth to my shoulder blade and the chill came again, and this time it remained pressed against my skin, surrounded by the heat of his lips as the ice cube melted in his mouth against me and the rivulets tracked down my rib cage. Goose bumps broke over my shoulders.
I heard ice crunching in his mouth, then felt tiny shards dribbling down my spine all the way to my crack. And I might not have been a huge fan of cold on my dick, but when Eric’s chilly fingers slid over my hole, the force with which I reflexively clenched shot a ball of heat through my groin, and I let out a ragged breath of pleasure.
Eric kept on, fishing ice cubes from the glass, painting cool wet trails over my back, my stomach, the nape of my neck. My lips, again. He licked a stripe from the corner of my mouth to my earlobe and pressed his hand flat to my back. “Bend over and show me that tight little hole.”
Fuck. Filthy. Gulping, I leaned forward and held myself spread for him, my chest resting against the Formica countertop. The icy point of a cube touched down at the top of my crack. Its meandering downward trek toward my hole tickled and almost had me writhing away except Eric’s tongue swept over me again.
“Shit, that’s good. Really fucking good.” The mesh of disparate temperatures zinged through me, storming my insides with electricity, making muscles twitch reactively. He traced the ice cube around my rim, and the backs of my thighs quivered as I clenched up until he chased it with a flutter of his tongue, the touch so light it was just this soft dappling of heat that made me crave more. Cold, hot, cold, hot, a crazy ouroboros of sensation that was fast transforming me into a twisted up mess. Water was conductive, right? I fucking felt it, too, like each rivulet running over my skin carried its own erotic charge.
I could come like this easily, and I reached down to stroke myself a couple of times then let go, feeling arousal mount, thrilling fingers of pleasure soaring through me. That’d be kind of hot actually, if I came just from an ice cube teasing my hole alongside Eric’s tongue. The more I thought about it, the hornier I got, and my hips twitched, my cock spearing at the air a couple of times when Eric ran the cube over puckered muscle again. My balls tightened up, heavy and swollen, and fuck it was it gonna feel good to blow.
“Eric,” I rasped, and he slid a hand over my chest, easing me upright, turning me gently around as he stood and popped what was left of the cube in his mouth, crunching it to bits. Catching his hands in mine, I pulled him against me and kissed him until his mouth was hot again.
“Love when you say my name all hot and wrecked like that,” he murmured, brushing his lips over the corner of mine. “You want it, don’t you? Need my cock in your ass. My load.” He pushed a chilly finger inside me and woke up my prostate in a matter of two strokes that melted like gold around the slight sting of initial intrusion.
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br /> “Fuuuuuck yes.” I didn’t mean to say it all wheedling that way, but I was standing there both burning up and freezing cold at the same time, parts of me elastic and woozy and other parts of me tight as an ACE bandage. And I needed, desperately needed, to come.
He aligned our cocks, and I groaned at the stiffness of his shaft gliding against mine. Then he shifted his weight and took a half step back, a softer heat wrapping the head of my dick as he stroked me.
“What…” I looked down between us and moaned, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t come right. That. Fucking. Moment. Because Eric had covered my cockhead with his silky foreskin and was now jacking both of us.
“Oh fuck,” I rasped, and grabbed onto his arms to keep myself steady as sparks showered through me and made me tingle head to toe. My cock slid easily in his grasp, a slippery flesh sleeve cocooning my glans, so different than a hand or really anything else I’d ever felt in my life because it was so fucking seamless and smooth and warm and…fuck. I had no idea foreskin could drive me out of my mind like this, but there was something about the combination of texture, the firm guidance of his hand, and the sheer fucking primal resourcefulness of what was happening that was going to shatter me in seconds.
My chest rose and fell in harsh, staggered breaths, and somehow it felt like fucking him, my hips tilting and pushing toward him as he stroked faster, all the pressure of his grip concentrated just behind my crown. Eric clearly wasn’t immune either; he had his lower lip trapped between his teeth, nostrils flaring with the force of his exhales. I tried to hang on, because I wanted to keep riding the high of this next-level erotic union of our bodies, but it was too damn much. Eric maintained a punishing cocktail of pressure and speed, whispering a fucking laundry list of lewdness that spilled in the air between us, half of which I didn’t even really hear. There was a place between torture and pleasure, and I was in it. This weird kinda purgatory where the sensations crossed and twisted around each other and created sheer chaos in my nerve endings.
“Fuck, I can’t hold on, I can’t—” I moaned and gripped his shoulders tight as I lost my shit babbling nonsense and bucking into his hand while he held us together and rasped, “Lemme have it.”
My orgasm broke free like it was busting through a brick wall, hard and inevitable, slamming the air from my lungs with brute force as my nuts pulled tight and unleashed. The soft slap of skin against skin became loud, wet smacks as I jizzed all over Eric’s cock, his hand, the floor.
He pumped me until my legs threatened to collapse from beneath me and I pushed him away, sinking back against the lip of the counter.
“Shit, get in me,” I demanded, my stomach still fluttery with aftershocks.
Eric granted me a two-second reprieve before slicking my come over his length and lifting my balls out of the way as he pressed his fat cockhead against my hole, which all but swallowed him up at the first hint of pressure.
He ran a hand down my chest and fucked me deep and slow.
“It’s gonna be quick, because you were right: I was already close a while ago, and you coming all over my dick?” Eric sucked a breath through clenched teeth and stilled inside me, his hand dropping from my stomach to caress my hip. “That was so hot I think we need to make it a regular thing.”
“So fucking game,” I moaned, leveraging the counter to give him a better angle and clamping down hard on his cock as he thrust inside me. He gritted his teeth, thrust again, and I managed to brace one heel on the counter running at a right angle to the one I was backed against.
“Perfect, fucking perfect,” he murmured, the approving purr its own kind of pleasure saturating me in a hazy afterglow. I could see his pupils dilate, his eyes go glassy as hunger took over, and he came on a hard punch of his hips that knocked me back against the counter and flooded me with warmth that seeped out of me and ran down my thighs. He withdrew and pressed back inside, over and over until he’d gone soft.
Releasing his grip on my leg, Eric traced a finger up the inside of my thigh and leaned heavily against me as I eased us both down to the blessedly cool linoleum floor.
He twisted around and rested his back against my chest, and we were quiet as our strained breaths slowed and returned to normal. I drifted my fingers over the crown of his head, down the side of his neck, and he reached for them, pulling them to his lips and kissing the tips as he let out a satisfied sigh. “What were we doing?” He angled his head to the side to grin at me as I laughed.
“Putting up groceries, which I suddenly no longer hate doing as much.”
“You didn’t mention that when we were divvying up the household stuff.”
“I forgot. Also, why haven’t we done that before?”
“Docking?”
“Mm.”
He shrugged. “Dunno. I used to be shy about the whole circumcised-uncircumcised thing I guess. All these guys I knew when we moved back to the States with these nice, cut cocks…”
The cock in question rested against his thigh, still mouthwatering to me even in its spent state. I stretched my hand to run my fingers over the soft length. “I’m a fan. A big fan. Superfan.”
Eric chuckled, angling his arm behind my head so he could urge me closer for a kiss. “I noticed. And I’ll be exploiting it a lot more in the future.”
The proper way to celebrate a new place was with a riotous party, of course. Mark and a bunch of other brothers showed up with kegs at ten. Jesse was already hammered, having arrived straight after his final exam ended, ready to get blitzed. He’d been guzzling anything and everything since he’d arrived around eight. As I glanced over at him where he drooped like a wilting dandelion on the couch, it looked increasingly like he was going to miss the party altogether.
“Guess I could put him up in the bedroom,” I mused as Mark handed me a red Solo cup of brew.
“Nah, he’s good. Definitely gonna get a dick or two drawn on his forehead, though.” Mark sipped his beer and studied Jesse’s forehead like he already had a marker in his hand and was prospecting the territory for the best location.
“Oh, hey, did that guy call back about the room?” The other guys had slacked on trying to replace us. Sam had taken my old room, but so far they hadn’t filled Eric’s spot.
“Nope. But it’s cool. He sounded like a douche canoe anyway. The three of us can cover summer. I’m sure someone will turn up before fall semester. Somebody’ll come back after taking a semester off or change plans.” Mark shrugged. “Not a deal.”
He glanced around the living room. We had the front door wide open, as well as the sliding doors that led from the tiny kitchen onto the patio. “So you’re really doing this?” he said after a moment, and a prickle of heat ran through my stomach. I turned my head and stared him down until he raised his hands and blinked away, relenting. “Ignore me. I’m in a shit-ass mood. I’m pretty sure I bombed my physics final.”
“Nah. I’m sure you pulled it off. You always do.”
Mark waved away my reassurance and hefted his cup. “Cheers, dude. To summer. You better not be a stranger.”
People drifted in and out, and I was starting to be glad for our pitiful collection of furniture, because there wasn’t much for anyone to stumble over, knock down, or break. Our biggest risk factor was puke, and considering the carpet, I figured that road had been paved well before us.
“You. Are. Huge. What’re you six six, six seven?” Jesse had not passed out after all, but was now swaying slightly at my side as he tossed back a shot with our neighbor, Richard.
Richard chased his shot with a slug of beer and laughed. “Six five actually, not bad.” He and his girlfriend were grad students, but I hadn’t gotten as far as learning what they were studying before Jesse interrupted. And he wasn’t wrong. Dude was massive. Built like the fucking Hoover dam, but he seemed cool.
“Sooooo, this gonna be a frequent occurrence?” Richard asked after Jesse wandered off as quickly as he’d arrived. “Do I need to buy me and my girl some earplugs?”
“Gotcha. Had to ask. The last two dudes who lived here, it was constant partying. Girls coming in and out, shrieking and making a racket.”
Eric glanced up, catching me watching him, and gave me one of those slow napalm smiles that coated my entire body in fire.
I chuckled. “Girls won’t be a problem.”
Richard smiled, and when he looked between the two of us, it seemed to dawn on him what I’d meant. “Ahhh,” he gave me an understanding nod. “Right on. Well, never hesitate to holler if you need anything.” He turned his attention to the bare spot in our living area for a second, then said, “We’re actually getting rid of our old dining table, if you want it? I’ve got a friend who’s doing his master’s in furniture design and he made us a sweet-ass table out of mango wood.”
“No shit? That’d be awesome.” It would put us one step closer to a new couch. After a grill, of course.
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow.” He winced, looking down at our cups pointedly. “Or maybe the next day.”
I thanked him again, catching Chet heading out onto the patio and feeling Eric lightly swat the back of my thigh in passing as he moved toward the front door. Where the hell was he going? I trailed his progress, then blinked back to Richard. “Nice to meet you, dude. Just bang on the wall or something if we’re ever too loud.” A flush instantly rose to my cheeks, and I thought about earlier in the afternoon when we’d been in the kitchen. I’d fucking loved not having to worry about roommates. Richard chuckled as I backpedaled. “I meant, like…never mind.”