average human’s Reviews > Twisted Trails > Status Update

I hum, satisfied, before taking him again. My jaw relaxes as I work him deeper into my mouth, and when I feel the back of my throat graze his tip, his hips buck. I keep up the pace, bobbing my head while one hand works his length in time with my mouth and the other slips down to cup his balls, rolling them gently as I suck harder, making him groan.
Then I let my fingers drift lower, trailing along the skin behind his sac. He stiffens under my touch, but not in a bad way. His moan turns breathy, almost pleading, when I circle his rim, not pressing in, just teasing, massaging, letting him feel the promise in my touch.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, and his hand tightens in my hair, tugging just enough to sting.
I hollow my cheeks and swallow around him. My throat flexes, muscles fluttering, and his hips jerk again, sharper this time. My finger presses down a little firmer, and Luc’s entire body goes taut. He gasps brokenly as warmth floods my mouth, and his grip in my hair tugs almost painfully.
Luc lets go of me instantly, pulling away like he’s been shocked. His cock slips from my mouth with a wet sound, and his eyes are wide with horror.
“Shit, oh fuck.” He’s panting, flushed from chest to hairline. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to hold it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in your mouth, but what you did was just so hot and merde.”
I blink, stunned, still holding his release on my tongue, tasting him. If he didn’t look so gutted about it, I’d probably laugh, but he looks like he thinks he’s ruined something. I rise to my feet slowly and cup his flushed face with one hand, tilting his chin until his wide, dazed eyes meet mine.
His lips part instinctively, and I keep my thumb on his chin, pressing to urge his mouth to stay wide as I open mine, letting his cum drip from my mouth to his. My heart hammers and my cock twitches as a single strand catches on his lower lip before vanishing down his throat.
Luc swallows without hesitation, his eyes never leaving mine.
Fuck.
I’ve never seen anything more devastatingly hot in my life.
“Looks like you still need to learn some manners, baby,” I murmur as my thumb strokes the flushed curve of his cheek. “We warn each other before we come into each other’s mouths.”
“Yes,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.”
My smirk is slow. “You’re forgiven.”
I kiss him deep, tongue and heat, and the taste of both of us still clings to our mouths. He melts into it, gripping my waist as if he needs the contact just to stay grounded.
When I finally pull back, Luc is flushed, panting, pupils blown wide, but before I can move away, his hand catches my wrist.
“Let me apologize with my tongue.”
I blink, taken off guard by the shift in him. “You sure?”
Luc swallows, but nods. “Yeah. I mean, I wanna know what it feels like and what you feel like.”
I take a step back to give him space, and he rises from the bed, standing tall and bare in front of me, before slowly sinking to the floor.
Luc kneeling in front of me is chaos in my bloodstream. My thighs tighten with restraint as his hands rise to the waistband of my sweats. He looks up for permission, and I nod, breathing shallowly.
He tugs them down slowly, reverently, and my cock springs free, already hard and aching. I sit back on the edge of the bed, right where he was moments ago, and watch as he inches closer on his knees.
Shite, I’m not going to last long either.
Luc’s lips begin their exploration of my skin, kissing and nipping everywhere around my pubic area, everywhere except where I’m dying for him to go.
His nose nuzzles into my dark, trimmed hair, inhaling before he exhales a groan. He glances up at me, and I try to smile reassuringly at him, but I’m so fucking hard, so close to the edge, it’s hard to keep myself still. I don’t want to guide him or rush him, especially at the beginning. He needs to move at his own pace, and I’m not about to ruin that.
“I don’t know what to do.” He pants, looking up at me with his mouth open and tongue sticking out.
Unless he asks.
I reach down, pinching his tongue gently between my forefinger and middle finger. “There’s no need to rush,” I murmur, then tug lightly. “Start by licking it.”
I let him go, and he nods before he licks a hot, wet stripe up the underside of my dick, making me groan. Hooded blue eyes flick up to mine, a cocksure grin tugging at his lips.
Should’ve known that the nerves wouldn’t last long with him.
His tongue flicks out again, still a little tentative, so I reach out to grip his hair and give him the words I needed to hear. “Good. Do it again.”
He licks again, firmer this time, dragging the flat of his tongue up the underside like he’s testing my reaction, and I definitely react. My hips twitch slightly, and he makes a sound, almost surprised.
“What a good boy you are.” I run my fingers through his hair, petting him as my cock glides along his tongue.
His lips close around me, and his tongue laps me up. I have to fight the urge to thrust into his mouth.
“You like that?” he asks, lips brushing the base as he finally grabs me.
“I like you like this.”
Luc grins. “Good. Because I’m making it up as I go.”
Then he opens his mouth again and takes me in. He’s not perfect, goes too fast at first, takes in more than he’s ready for, and pulls back quickly, his eyes watering, but I’m already gone for him, and for how he tries again, his mouth hot and soft and so goddamn eager.
The sight of him between my knees, looking up at me like that, makes butterflies explode in my chest and drives me insane with need.
It’s really happening.
After years of longing for this menace, he’s sucking my dick.
“Relax your jaw,” I murmur. “Don’t suck too hard yet. Just… fuck, yeah, like that.”
His hands come up, one bracing against my thigh, the other resting lightly on my stomach as he finds a rhythm. Luc moans around me, and it shoots through me like electricity.
“Jesus, Luc.” I groan. “You’re doing so good.”
He hums again like he knows, like he’s starting to enjoy it. He pulls back briefly, lips slick, eyes locking on mine.
“You gonna fall in love with me if I keep going, Payne?” he teases.
“Too late,” I manage, half-laughing, half-gasping.
And then he dives back in.
He doesn’t stop until my thighs tremble and my voice is hoarse from saying his name over and over. When I finally tug him up, his mouth is swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied.
“Holy shit. That was kinda fun.”
I brush the mess of hair back from his forehead. “You have no idea how good you were.”
“Guess I’m a quick learner.” Luc smirks, then his gaze drops to my still-hard cock. “But I didn’t manage to make you come.”
“Oh, you would have, but I didn’t want to finish in your mouth. Figured that’d be a little much for your first time.”
“Fair,” he says, but then a new glint enters his eyes. “Want to come on my face? Or my stomach?”
Christ on a bike.
My cock twitches hard at the image he just painted.
I look him up and down, all long limbs and flushed skin, kneeling in front of me like sin incarnate, and notice that he’s hard again.
“I’ve got a better idea. Up.”
I pull him to his feet, only to guide him back onto the bed. He falls onto his back, so wide-eyed as I straddle his thighs that he almost reminds me of my Bambi.
Our cocks brush, and I grind down, making him moan deep in his throat.
Kissing his cheek, I murmur, “I’m not gonna fuck you, Luc. But can I jerk us off together?”
The “Oui” comes so fast it makes me chuckle. I reach down and wrap my hand around both of us, feeling the weight of him against me, the heat, the slickness of our skin already damp with sweat. Then I lean back just enough to spit into my palm and stroke us together.
Feeling him slotted against me is almost too much, combined with the sight of him. I can’t remember the last time I wanted something this badly.
My hand tightens on instinct, the rhythm starting slow, controlled, but the friction, the intimacy of it, nearly undoes me before it’s even really started. Luc gasps, head tipping back, and I lean in to kiss his shoulder, then his neck, each breath hitching against my lips. His hips twitch, chasing the friction, and his face buries into my neck, his breath coming fast and desperate, burning against my skin.
I adjust my angle, bracing myself better with one arm while my stroking hand finds its pace, long, slow drags that build tension with every glide. The slide of his cock against mine makes my hips stutter before finding a new rhythm. We’re already slick with pre-cum, and it just makes everything messier and hotter. Our cocks move together perfectly, each stroke coaxing out more gasps, more whispered swears from Luc’s lips.
“Harder,” he pleads, voice ragged, reaching up to grab my arm, fingers digging in like he needs to ground himself.
So I give him harder. My grip tightens, the strokes faster now, rougher. The wet slap of skin fills the room, and Luc’s legs fall open wider beneath me as he writhes, his muscles trembling with restraint.
His lashes brush his skin as his eyes flutter shut, cheeks flushed that perfect pink. I can’t decide where to look, my gaze getting caught on the contrast of our bodies—his fair skin flushed beneath mine—before jumping to his parted lips, and then our cocks. I’m panting, barely holding on, but I won’t let go until he does.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper, dragging my thumb in slow, tight circles over the head of his cock, feeling it twitch in my palm. “Think you’ve got one more in you? Just for me?” And then, softer, pressed right to his ear, I add, “Please.”
That’s what does it.
His whole body arches, a sharp inhale breaking into a cry as his cock pulses against mine. Luc shatters in my hand, shaking, swearing in rapid French, eyes squeezed shut, and lips parted as he spills across both of us.
It’s fucking gorgeous.
Watching him come and feeling him come against me snaps whatever thread was keeping me together.
My balls draw tight, my breath catches, and I lose it with a groan of his name, spilling across my knuckles and his stomach.
I collapse onto him, not caring about the slick between us, just needing to be close. I kiss him rough and deep, like I can pour everything I’m feeling into it—lust, relief, the sheer awe that it’s him.
Luc kisses back like he’s drowning in it too. His fingers find my hair, and his fist tightens, pulling me even closer like he never wants to let go.
Fuck. It’s never felt like this before. Never this wild or this right.
And we’re a mess of sticky, panting bodies trembling from the release.
Luc’s lips find my ear, his breath hot as he laughs against my damp skin. “I’m so fucking bi.”
I huff out a broken laugh, still trying to catch my breath. “Same.”
Fucking same.

48%

He pauses at the door. “You ready?”
He’s still holding my hand, and he’s going to have to let go before we walk out.
I take a breath, straighten my spine, and hold back a wince at feeling the binder again. Then I drop my voice to the low tone I use with everyone outside our inner circle. “Ready.”
Mason laughs. “Fuck. I have no idea how I didn’t see right through your cover. Your man voice is so damn bad.”
“No, it’s not,” I say, dropping it even lower just to mess with him.
He groans. “Okay, Darth Vader. Calm down.”
We both laugh as we grab the water bottles he brought and head outside. The morning sun is crisp as we walk across the lot toward the chaos that is Luc’s pit.
The pink tent is halfway up, and the crew is wrestling with one of the vinyl banners while Luc stands dead center, holding a corner of it, his expression locked somewhere between majestic disdain and first-world agony.
I snort. “Why does he look like a toddler in time-out?”
“Because he is.” Mason chuckles as we both drop onto the low metal railing across from the pit. The warm steel presses into my shorts as I take a sip of the water then set the bottle down on the ground in front of me.
Luc’s entire face lights up like someone flipped a switch when he spots us. He abandons the vinyl, throwing both arms into the air to wave at us, like the toddler in question.
We’re both laughing at how adorable he looks, and I glance at Mason to see his ears turning a little red.
“Fuck,” Mason says through another chuckle.
He looks so happy. I’ve never seen him like this, and it hits me hard, because yeah, I have the same problem.
“I have no idea what he’s doing to me,” he says quietly. “I think about him all the time.” He glances my way. “Is it just me, or…”
“No, it’s not just you. I’m probably thinking about that boy more than he thinks in general.”
But he shares that space in my head with you and Finn.
Mason throws his head back and laughs loud and hard.
He looks fucking adorable when he laughs.
Yeah, I’m so fucked.
Luc seems to have heard him, too, because he glances over, still grinning like sunshine, and gives me a little nod of approval.
I grin back at him, everything in me feeling lighter.
But then a shadow falls over us as a guy steps right in front of the sun, phone already up like we’re on stage, and he’s filming a goddamn documentary.
“Allen Crews!”
The UCI social media guy. Of course it is.
Fuck.
His eyes flick to Mason but don’t linger, like he’s not important. Fucker. “We were all wondering if you’re coming back for the race.”
“Yeah,” I say flatly, already annoyed. “I’m back.”
“Perfect.” He grins wider, still filming. “Can you tell us a bit about what happened and how you’re planning to come back to this race?”
I glance at Mason, who shrugs like it’s your call.
“I’m going to race as usual.”
The guy laughs like I told a joke, then lowers the phone, stopping the recording. “No, my guy. I know you’re a privateer, so you’re not media trained, but we can’t go with that.”
“We can’t?”
“No.” He clucks his tongue. “DH lives off the fans. Fans live on social media. We gotta hype this up. You crashing like that while being so high in rank, and now coming back? It’s a story, and we need it.”
“It’s not a story. It’s my life,” I bite out, the good mood from earlier cracking even more at the edges.
“Exactly,” he says, like I’m agreeing with him. “The story of your life.”
Mason snorts beside me.
I sigh. “Fine. What do you want me to say?”
He brightens. “Dramatic flair, baby. Say you didn’t think you could come back, but now you’re here, broken fingers and all. Those are broken, right?”
I lift my hand without answering.
“Perfect. Hold them up to the camera and say you’re trying to grab that title anyway. Even if it kills you.”
That knocks the breath out of my chest.
Because I have thought that, over and over, but hearing it out loud, pitched like a trailer for a movie, it sounds deranged.
My breaths become uneven, but then I remember what my therapist said. Breathe through it.
I close my eyes and breathe.
“Is he okay?” the guy asks, like I’m a broken doll that stopped responding.
When I feel up to it, I open my eyes, but all I see is Mason’s back. He’s standing in front of me like a fucking wall. “He’s not in the headspace for an interview. Go make content with somebody else.”
“But we need a story about him,” the guy snaps.
“And he’s not up for it right now,” Mason repeats, sharper this time.
“Who even asked you, fucking scum?”
“Didn’t you hear him?” I lean over to look past Mason and the social media guy and find Luc standing behind him like a pink shadow with teeth. “He said non.”
The guy pivots, suddenly excited. “Delacroix! Perfect. Stand with Crews and say something like you’re gonna show no mercy even if he’s broken⁠—”
“Fuck off,” Luc says flatly, cutting him off.
Everything goes still. Luc never talks like this to the media, and I prepare to step in.
I can’t have him ruin his reputation for me.
“What?” the guy says, like Luc just betrayed some sacred code. “Delacroix, come on. This is the game. You know how to play it.”
Luc folds his tattooed arms across his chest, and Jesus, if they don’t call me by my government name.
“You were rude to my friends. So I’m rude to you. Leave.”
The guy blinks. “Your friends?”
He can’t compute that Luc, the star of the circuit, is standing up for his so-called rivals—a rookie and a scandal-stained has-been, who are both privateers.
“Yeah. My friends. Problem with that?” Luc asks, close to snapping.
“Luc,” I whisper, hoping to calm him because holy shit.
“Not a good look, Delacroix,” the social media guy mutters, retreating. “Not a good look.”
“How about you make a story about how the UCI plays favorites?” Luc calls after the guy, his voice cool as hell.
“Goddammit, Luc,” Mason mutters, grabbing his forearm. He’s probably bracing to hold Luc back in case the dude says one more wrong thing and gets himself flattened, but Luc doesn’t even twitch toward him. He just watches the guy walk off like he’s already deleted him from existence.
When the coast is clear, Luc glances at us and shrugs when he sees how we’re both gaping at him. “What?”
“What?” I echo. “You just went full hitman in front of the entire paddock.”
“I’m done with people fucking with you guys.” He looks between us. “You’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
A bolt of pure desire shoots through my spine at his fierce expression, his protective words. Judging by the way Mason goes pink? Yeah, that line didn’t just go straight to only my private parts.
My gaze travels down Mason’s body, and yup, definitely some growth happening in the shorts department.
If my socks were real, they’d be doing the same thing.
I choke on a laugh, and Luc raises a brow. “Quoi? What’s funny?”
He follows my gaze to Mason’s crotch and lets out a low, delighted laugh. “Ah. Speaking of cocks…”
“Luc,” Mason hisses, eyes wide as he checks if anyone overheard. No one is close, which only makes me laugh harder.
Luc’s grin turns wicked. “Let’s go to my hotel room. I’ve got a present for Petite.” He takes my wrist and starts tugging me along.
Mason groans. “If that’s just your dick and you’re calling it a present, Delacroix, I swear…”
Luc smirks over his shoulder. “Idée incroyable, but no. Not this time.”
“Can you even just leave pit setup like that?” I ask, letting myself be pulled because, well, it’s Luc.
“Did you not just see?” He glances back at the chaos behind us and flashes that arrogant grin. “I can do anything.”
Mason groans again, muttering something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like bloody maniac.
Seems like whatever the hell this ‘present’ is, I’m about to find out. And even if it’s just his dick. Um, honestly?
I’m kinda all in.