L. A. Witt - Rules 1 - Rules of Engagement (6 page)

He propped himself up on one elbow and watched me, his lips parted and his eyes half-closed. Running his fingers through my hair, he said, “Oh fuck, that’s good….”

I smiled and ran my tongue up the shaft of his cock, intoxicated by the taste and warmth of his skin. I took the head into my mouth, then a little more, slowly rising before taking more. I wasn’t ready to try deep-throating, but I loved the way his cock felt in my mouth and I wanted more.

“Jesus, are you sure you’ve never done this?” His voice sounded like little more than a moan.

Running the tip of my tongue around the head of his cock, I caught the tiny, salty-sweet drop of pre-cum. “I think I’d remember if I had.” And I took him into my mouth again, stroking with one hand as he had done to me.

His fingers tightened against my scalp. “Then you’re a fast fucking learner.” He groaned and his hips lifted slightly, his cock twitching in my mouth. “Christ, Dustin, you’re gonna make me come.”

My own cock ached as he said that, and I stroked him faster, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could comfortably manage. My heart pounded and my balls tightened, my entire body reacting as if I were on the verge of an orgasm. The more I sucked him, the closer I was to coming. Giving him a blowjob turned me on as much as receiving a blowjob ever had.

He moaned. “Oh fuck, you’re going—” His body tensed. “Wait, wait,” he pleaded.

I stopped, looking up at him as I swept my tongue across my lips. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He was panting, his hand trembling as he ran his fingers through my hair. “But I want you to fuck me.”

My breath caught. I swallowed.
“Please,” he whispered. “I
need
you to fuck me.”

I couldn’t remember how to speak. The very thought of being inside him nearly made me come right then and there. We both moved to our knees and kissed hungrily. I don’t know whose body was trembling more, but we were both breathless and unsteady.

Brandon broke the kiss and leaned across the bed to the nightstand. He grabbed a condom and a small bottle of lube. Then he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Ever done this before?”

“Yes.” I paused and cleared my throat. “Not with a man, though.” He laughed as he handed me the condom. “Same idea.”

Tearing the condom wrapper with my teeth, I managed to get it on quickly in spite of my badly shaking hands. Brandon put some lube on his hand and kissed me as he stroked my cock.

“Careful,” I said.
“Why?” he asked, smirking.
“Keep touching me like that and you’ll make me come.”

He released me so abruptly it took my breath away. “Can’t have that,” he said with a grin.

“Turn around,” I growled playfully. He gave me a wink and did as I asked. Putting my hands on his hips, I paused just to look at him. I was used to the soft, hourglass shape of a woman viewed from this angle, but Brandon was no less sexy; his broad shoulders and back tapered perfectly to his narrow waist, the muscles rippling as he supported his weight with his arms. I ran my fingers over his tattoo, my breath catching as his back arched and his skin quivered beneath my touch.

“Jesus,” I whispered.
He looked over his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Just enjoying the view.”

He laughed softly. Then he pushed back against me, pressing his ass against my cock.

 

My fingertips made slow, soft circles on his lower back. “Impatient, are we?”

 

“You’re damn right.”

I teased him with my cock, pushing just slightly against him, grinning to myself as he shivered. Pushing a little harder, I let just the head of my cock slide into him before pulling back again. It was all I could do to keep myself in control. I wanted him so bad it hurt, but I wanted to draw this out, to tease him.

“Jesus, Dustin.” He was almost whimpering. “I can’t wait. Fuck me.”

“I will.” I gritted my teeth, fighting to stay in control. I gave him just a little more of my cock before pulling back. “But I like watching you like this.”
Knowing you’re as close as I am to losing it.

His shoulders shook and he leaned back against me, but I withdrew enough to keep him from taking more than I wanted to give. “You’re a tease.” His voice was tinged with frustration and amusement.

 

“Just taking my time.”

Without warning, he slammed himself back, and I was all the way inside him. I gasped, holding his hips against me as I tried to remember how to breathe.

I’m sure he intended to keep the bantering going at that point, but like me, he had lost the ability to string together a coherent thought. “Oh God,” he said. “Oh my God….”

I pulled out slowly and slid back in, turned on beyond belief by the sight of myself disappearing into him. “Jesus,” I whispered. I had watched myself fuck women in the past, had been enthralled by the sight of my cock slipping in and out of them, but this—this was different. It wasn’t even because it was a man.

It was
Brandon
.

 

I was inside
Brandon
.

A deep groan escaped my throat. Leaning forward, I kissed the center of his back, slowly drawing the tip of my tongue up his spine as I took long, slow strokes inside him. He moaned, moving his hips in time with mine. I put my hand on the bed behind his and slid my other around his waist. He released a hiss of breath as my fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. Then he took a breath and said, “Fuck me hard.”

 

“You want it hard?” I nipped the back of his shoulder.

“Everything you’ve got,” he growled. There was nothing in his voice but pure, unadulterated lust, and I had never wanted someone so badly in my life.

“With pleasure.” I sat up, grabbed his hips, and fucking
railed
him. I drove my cock into him, trying to keep myself from coming, but my orgasm was approaching fast. Digging my fingers into his hips, I bit my tongue, trying to hold back. This couldn’t be over yet. Not yet. Not so soon.

“Oh my God,” he moaned, slamming his hips back into me, meeting me stroke for stroke. “Jesus, Dustin, your cock is fucking incredible.”

“Fuck, Brandon…,” I gasped. “Oh God, I’m gonna come….” “So am I, so am—” His entire body tensed, and he threw his head back. “Oh…
fuck
….”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pounded him as hard as I could, driven by his shudders and helpless moans, until I pushed as far into him as possible and held his hips still, held him to me while I came. “Oh my God, Brandon….”

We didn’t move for a moment. I was so overwhelmed I wasn’t even sure what to do next. All I could do was convince myself that I still could—and needed to—breathe.

Finally, holding onto him for balance, I pulled out. I got rid of the condom, and we collapsed together on the bed, facing each other on our sides.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never been with a man before.” He kissed me gently.

I laughed. “I still can’t believe I’ve
just
been with a man.” He smiled. “I hope you can be persuaded to be with a man again.”

“I think I could be persuaded.” Pursing my lips, I watched my fingers trail along the edges of the tattoo on his bicep. “So, I assume this isn’t your first time with a man?”

“No, no, it isn’t.” He paused; then he chuckled. “I’ve been with women too.”
“Oh?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he said. “One of the perks of being bisexual.” “Guess that makes it twice as easy to find a date.”

He snorted. “Just means I have to deal with twice as much bullshit
trying
to find a date.” An amused look crossed his face. “I can’t say I’ve been anyone’s first in a long, long time, though.”

I laughed. “I suppose there aren’t too many virgins pushing thirty.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “A lot of guys don’t figure it out until later. I dated a guy once that didn’t realize he was gay—not bi, mind you,
gay
—until he was almost forty.”

“Damn, that must have been an eye opener for him.” “No kidding.”

Watching my fingers on his tattoo again, I was silent for a moment before I looked at him. “So how the hell did you know I was— well, whatever I am—before I did?”

“You mean when I came onto you in the parking lot?” “Yeah.”

Shrugging, he said, “I didn’t. I saw someone who was attractive, and I went for it.” He paused. “I wanted you the second I saw you, but it took me a while to figure out whether you’d be receptive to it. It’s always a risk approaching a guy that could be straight, because sometimes the response is a bit more hostile than just a rejection.”

I cringed. “I can imagine.” Then I ran my fingers through his hair. “So what gave it away?”

He smiled. At first I thought it was the cocky, knowing look I’d come to expect from him, but there was something distant in his eyes for a moment. Something nostalgic. Finally, he said, “When you went for the eight ball. Your hands were shaking, and you kept licking your lips.”

“I was doing that the whole game.”

The smile turned into a grin.
Ah, there you are, my cocky friend
. “You had that game in the bag,” he said. “It was an easy shot. You could have dropped that ball with your eyes closed.” He wetted his lips. “I’d never seen someone so nervous when he knew he was going to win.”

I laughed. “I had a feeling you were sizing me up. I just didn’t know why.”
“You’re right.” He leaned in to kiss me. “I was.”

“So you knew, when you came out to the parking lot—” “I didn’t know what was going to happen.” His smile turned almost shy. “I was just hoping.”

 

I touched his face and drew him in for a long, gentle kiss. “I hope you weren’t disappointed.”

“No.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m definitely
not
disappointed.”

W
HEN
I walked into the club the next night, most of the crowd was centered around the pool tables. I vaguely remembered a few faces from the night I met Brandon, but they definitely remembered me.

“Hey! The challenger is here!” one guy in a backwards baseball cap said.

“Oh, sweet!” said a blonde who was, I was fairly certain, the girl who had challenged Brandon right before my game with him. “Maybe someone
else
will win for once.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” I said, chuckling as I shouldered my way through the crowd to the signup sheet. As I put my name down and signed the “I understand the rules and all of that bullshit” blank next to it, I scanned the list. There were about a dozen players already signed up, and second from the top was Brandon. My heart jumped when I saw his name. I had to laugh. In the column where he’d written his name, his handwriting was perfect, but his signature was little more than a “B” followed by a hint of an “S” and a sharply angled line. The kind of quick, to-the-point signature that said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I read the fucking rules, whatever.” Flawless on one side, flippant on the other.
How very Brandon.

“I suppose I should have left that second place spot open for you.” His voice startled me.

 

Looking over my shoulder, I grinned. “I don’t know. I think your name looks pretty good right where it is.”

 

There went the cocky grin. “You just want to be on top, don’t you?”

 

I winked. “Always.”

He clapped my shoulder, a perfectly platonic heterosexual gesture except for the quick, deliberate brush of his thumb across my arm. “May the best man win, then.”

“Assuming you don’t let me win again, right?”

 

He snickered. “Dustin, you won that one fair and square. I may lose sometimes, but not without a fight. I never
let
anyone win.” “You’d never throw a game if the stakes were high enough?” “Please. I’d fight to the last ball even if my own mother’s soul was on the line.”

 

“Cutthroat son of a bitch.”

 

“You better believe it. Come on, let’s grab a beer before the tournament starts.”

A few minutes later, the jukebox abruptly cut off, and the bar manager picked up the mic from the karaoke setup. “This is your last chance to sign up for the pool tournament.” He sent a very pointed glare in our direction. “Which we’re considering renaming the ‘Pay to Get Fucked in the Ass by Brandon Stewart’ tournament.”

I bit my tongue so hard I almost drew blood.

 

“Come on, Joe, I don’t win every time,” Brandon called across the room before sipping his beer.