Their cock is a thing of beauty. Just the right length, the perfect thickness, wrapped in his fist and then, when he drops it, landing hard and heavy on the pale expanse of their belly. He lies on his front between their open legs, and as he lowers his head he closes his eyes. They’re rimmed in kohl, dark and wet and glittering with intent, and as he opens his mouth to lick their length his painted lashes flicker against his cheekbones.
Five of us are squeezed on to the king- size bed, down in the basement with the hanging chair and the Beefheart poster and the smell of rose incense hanging sharp and sweet in the air. His girlfriend is curled up on the edge of the bed, drunk and asleep, and then there’s me and F, lolling and grinning at each other as we watch him suck, watch his head move, his sweat- dampened fringe flopping over his forehead. His fingers ring their cock as he slides his tongue over and around, gently jerking it into his mouth, pulling away and not so gently slapping the head against his spit- glazed lips between kisses.
And then suddenly he shifts forward, and with an audible inhale swoops his head down until the tip of his nose is flush against ther belly. They’re all the way inside his throat, every inch, his palms pressed firm against their jutting hipbones. They moan, and we, the viewing audience, giggle with delight. I shift on to my side so that the two of them are within reach- I need to touch skin. I run my fingers across the cross- hatch of their fishnets and the sinews of their thighs, slipping my thumb under and over the shoulder- strap of his top, feeling the leather soft and smooth and dry. Their skin is so warm against the back of my hand.
And I am transfixed, watching him. Occasionally his gaze shifts sideways as he sucks and our eyes meet, and I smile at him. He doesn’t smile back- his face is so serious, his mouth full and his lips stretched taut around their cock. And then all of a sudden they ask if they can and he says yes and the noises coming from his throat are fucking me up, as they rock their hips faster, fucking his face, and it’s the noises, the wet soft noises as they move in his open throat.
‘You’re very good at that’, they say in a quiet, curious tone of voice in a moment of rest.
‘It’s easy’, he mumbles into their thigh crease. ‘I have one’.
Until very recently it would never have occurred to me that this would be a thing I would be unable to stop watching, a man lavishing attention on a cock. It just wasn’t my thing, I thought, as a woman who had until that point only ever played with or been seriously attracted to cishet men. But, what a discovery- it turns out that watching a man I’m very attracted to enthusiastically sucking dick makes me unfurl inside, makes my cunt wet with intrigue. And, to be honest, this is such a masterclass we’ve been treated to that I feel discomforted. His utter focus on giving them the kind of pleasure he most enjoys is a little intimidating, which is in itself extremely, weirdly hot.
Because it’s my turn. He asks if I want to share, and by God, do I. F rolls off the bed to get a drink, and I shuffle onto all fours between their thighs. He stands behind me and pulls my high- waisted knickers down and off, down my thighs and over my heels, spreads my thighs and pushes his fingers into my cunt. Soon I am whimpering, licking the cool curve of their balls and reaching my hand back blindly to touch him, and then he is on the bed and I know their cock is in his mouth again. And even though I’m busy and my eyes are closed I can see him, with his eyes ringed in black, and his mouth full. I hear them moaning and even though I’m not watching I can see him sucking, as I lick and and they moan and she sleeps. It’s New Year’s Day, I think as I lick. Happy New Year, everybody. Happy New Year.
(note: in the absence of confirmation as to which pronouns the owner of the beautiful cock uses, I have employed they. This may be an incorrect assumption, and subject to future correction).