Copper Script

by K.J. Charles

He pulled his mouth off at last, and shifted round to seat himself on Aaron’s powerful thighs, looking down at his painfully erect prick, slick with moisture where he was leaking like a Government department. A drop had fallen onto his belly, but was still connected with a line of glimmering spiderweb. It was beautiful. “Fuck me,” he said. “To be clear, I’m actually going to be quite disappointed in myself if you don’t blow when I touch you.” Aaron made a sound that might have been a laugh or a gasp of agony. Joel looked at him a second longer, then ran his hand up between Aaron’s thighs, over his balls, up his shaft. And that was all it took. Aaron convulsed, hips up and head back, gasping aloud, spending like a sailor in a spurt of white pleasure. Joel gave a crack of gleeful laughter. “Fuck. Yes.” He held on, making sure he’d milked every drop, until Aaron made a pleading noise and he reluctantly let go. Aaron looked like he’d been hit with a brick. Joel sat back on his thighs, watching, until he blinked his eyes open. “Great God,” he said. “God. That—” “I enjoyed every second of that,” Joel said. “Particularly the last few. I think you’ve got spunk on your face.” “I think I might have got it on the wall,” Aaron said. “Christ. Uh, would you...?” He moved his arm, just slightly, but enough that Joel read, Come here. “One minute.” Joel fished out a handkerchief and tossed it to him, while he rapidly unbuttoned his own shirt, because it was clean on this morning and he did...