by Leyla Hunt
He narrowed his eyes, tossed his glasses on the desk and stalked across the room as I, momentarily taken aback, shuffled away. I bumped into the sofa as he sped over the wooden floor and wrapped an arm around my hip. He glanced down at the space between us, one swollen dick eying another. “This is what you wanted, right?” He placed my hand on his length, and I squeezed.
“Not quite.”
A wariness crept into his dark eyes and he withdrew his hand. “I don’t want to suck you off. No, that came out wrong. I do. At some point,” I explained, or tried to.
“I’m confused.”
“Sorry. I’m not saying this right. I want you in me. Your dick in my hole.” I trailed a finger over his pants and cupped his bulge.
“Shit!”
Now it was my turn to be perplexed. Did he want this or not? “I… sorry… was a mistake coming here…”
“No,” his voice louder than when he’d spoken previously. “I want that too, I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Air whooshed out of me. “Good, we’re on the same page.”
He pulled me close, and his hand cupped my ass. “Are you wet?”
“Soaking. Drenched. Saturated.”
He pulled back, his mouth twisted in a mischievous grin. “Are you sure?”
Oh, so he wants to play a little game. Two can do that. “Maybe.”
“Perhaps I should check,” he grunted.
“I agree. One can never be certain about these things.”
He had my pants and underwear around my ankles and me twisted over the couch, my ass high in the air in seconds. A palm on my ass, pinching and squeezing. He removed it and then slammed it down on my bare backside. “Ouch!”
I pulled in a deep breath and let it out, and then another as I pictured the mark of his hand on my butt. “Again,” I begged.
His mouth was on my ear. “You like that, do you?”
“Ummm, yes. More please.” The line between pain and pleasure was almost invisible.
Another slap. This time the vibrations hurtled through to my dick. I groaned and arched my back as Marc’s fingers slid through the slippery slick and found my hole. “Put it in. Fuck me with your finger,” I pleaded.
His lips nibbled at my shoulder while he prodded around the puckered entrance. “You’re tight,” he whispered.
I whimpered and leaned right over the couch, my hands on the cushions, the top under my waist, my dick ramrod straight, brushing over the back. “Please.”
He inserted, not one or two fingers, but three. I could feel each one as he eased them into my channel. And out. They were back inside me, fitting snugly, and then he finger fucked me. In and out, fast and slow. And my breathing mirrored his actions.
“Is this want you wanted?” He was beside me, his hips pressed against my side, while his fingers thrust in and out of my hole. “Yes and no.” Sweat dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision as I added, “I want your cock in me.”
He paused, his fingers buried deep in my ass. He withdrew and I whimpered at the loss. Turning around, he was kicking off his chinos, and I got the first glance at his cock. So beautiful. Hard. Straight. A beautiful pink.
I pursed my lips, giddy at the thought that the gorgeous specimen of manhood would be buried in my hole, making me scream. In the movies, the professor and the student always flung everything off the desk and fucked on top. But that hard surface was ouch-worthy.
I eyed the sofa. Too narrow. The carpet was our best bet.
“On your knees,” he instructed as he removed his shirt and I did the same.
Are we crazy? But I didn’t care as Marc pushed me to the floor and I offered him my ass.
Seven
Marc
I blinked, not quite believing what I was seeing. An omega’s glorious wet ass, covered in slick, waiting for me. In my office, on my carpet. Steve purring, begging me to fuck him. I almost pinched myself. But my cock was aiming straight for the hole. It knew. This was no dream.
I got on the floor and shuffled closer to Steve, and placed my palm over the red mark on his butt. It matched perfectly and showed where I smacked him. It made me even harder, and I’d wanted to do it again which surprised me. Where did that come from? I’d never slapped anyone in my life except in the sandbox when I was a kid and someone snatched a toy from me.
Shoving those questions and childhood memories out of my head, I parted his cheeks and peered at the hole I was desperate to possess. It was mine, at least for tonight.
“Please, Marc. Don’t keep me waiting. I want your cock.”
With one hand enclosed over my shaft and the other probing his entrance, I shoved the tip in and paused, overwhelmed by the emotions and excitement charging through me. I didn’t know this man, only that I couldn’t get enough of him and his magnetic personality, intoxicating scent, seductive voice, and magnificent ass.
He wriggled that beautiful butt, and my body vibrated. Wave upon wave of desire rippled through me, claiming me, tossing me around and refusing to let go. I didn’t want it to. The frenzy inside me had me grunting and thrusting into his wet channel. So tight and warm. A perfect fit.
“God, yes. You’re so big.”
I pulled back. My length glistened in the lamplight. His slick over my shaft. With both hands on his hips, I surged back inside him, our bodies fused, both of us whimpering, him with his head down and wriggling his ass. Every turn, every moment sent a charge through me. My nerve endings were on fire.
Steve pushed his ass back as my dick penetrated his wet heat. Sweat, slick, saliva. It was me and him and slippery wetness, my hips slapping against his ass. But I needed to see his face as I charged into him. I couldn’t get enough of his man, and I wanted to be inside him forever.
I pulled out, and Steve cried out. “Don’t stop,” he panted.
“I’ve barely begun.” Did I say that? I was a mild-mannered professor not a sex God, but in my head, I was one right now. “On your back,” I ordered.
Steve collapsed on the rug, the one I’d bought on an overseas vacation, never for one minute believing I’d be fucking a man I hardly knew on it.
“Spread your legs.” I added, “Raise your knees,” though it was pretty obvious what I expected. As he lifted his knees and wrapped his arms around them, I eyed his hole, pink and puckered and wet. So freaking wet. In my head, I told myself he was never that wet for anyone else. Just me.
I crouched between his legs and kissed his inner thigh. He shuddered and one hand felt for me, tugging my hair. I sucked on the sensitive skin as he moaned and then I licked the redness. My tongue found his dick, and I flicked the pre-cum leaking from the tip.
“Marc,” he panted.
“Mmmm.”
“Lick my ass, please.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I hungered for every part of him, and I was consumed by greed. But before I stick my tongue in his hole, I had to claim his balls. I sucked at them, and he cried out that I was teasing him followed by, “Fuck yes!” His balls contracted, and I made my way to his hole.
And now I did tease him. A flick of the tongue around the rim had him lifting his hips, and he cried out, “Professor, you know your stuff.”
The intelligent part of my brain said we needed to muffle our cries, but when an alpha has his tongue on an omega’s ass, fuck keeping the noise down. I wanted it broadcast to the world. I had a naked omega on my office floor.
“Inside me. Slide your tongue into me.”
I eased the tip in and flicked and he went wild, rocking his hips and begging for more. In and out. Kissing around the rim, in again, making him pant and moan.
But my cock had been patient long enough, and I pulled away and got to my knees. I shoved my dick into him, up to the hilt. We both groaned and I panted, gulping air into me, making sure I had enough oxygen to continue.
Wet flesh smacking against soft, slick-coated skin was a sound created by the gods. With a hand on either side of him, I pounded into him as he lifted his hips to me. We w
ere covered in wetness, sweat shimmering on Steve’s chest while droplets of my own dripped from my chin and plopped onto him.
He called out my name, moaned and confessed my dick was amazing. Begged me to go faster, then slower. And finally he flung his legs over my shoulder and I angled my hips and went deeper than before.
Breath hitched in my throat as Steve dug his heels into my back, urging me forward. “Marc, I won’t last.”
I wanted to see him orgasm. I’d swallowed his cum and now I needed it to spray over us as I spurted into him. Words flitted through my head, but I couldn’t make sense of them. Cock and hole, sweat and slick. Me inside him. There was nothing else.
He tensed and I did the same. “Open your eyes,” I told him. As his lids fluttered, I emptied my load inside him and yelled, “Steve!” His lips formed an ‘O’ as cum gushed from his dick, covering both of us.
“Marc, are you in there?”
A voice which reminded me of Arthur’s was calling my name.
I was in. Deep. And not just my dick. The door handle rattled, and my eyes met Steve’s.
Eight
Steve
With Marc’s dick still inside me, he called out to the person knocking on the door. His voice may have been stuttering and croaky, but the man was a machine. His cock was still hard as if he were ready to go again. I was all for it, though the hard wooden floor under the carpet was hurting my back. Maybe that desk would have been better.
“I’m in the middle of something, Arthur. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Silence. Then, “Marc? Are you okay?”
Shit, that guy outside wouldn’t take the hint. “F-Fine,” Marc answered as he slid out of me and lay on his back panting. I peered at his length, wet and shimmering, wishing I had given him a blow job before being fucking into the next universe.
“Are you sure? You sound as though you’ve run a marathon.”
Placing my mouth on Marc’s lips, I mouthed, “You have,” and he rubbed his furrowed brow.
“You’re not being held hostage, are you?” his friend called, and the door rattled.
I snorted and slapped a hand over my mouth a little too late, making a sound like a kid blowing raspberries.
“Most definitely not, Arthur.” And then Marc added, “Best night of my life.”
Awww, he’s a sweetheart.
Marc yelled, “But I am about to start a conference call.”
“Oh, more book promotion?”
I nodded at Marc.
“Yes.”
“Sorry, I’ll let you go. Bye.”
Marc put a finger to his lips as Arthur’s footfalls receded and faded. I got up on one elbow and took one glance at him and giggled. He did the same. “That was close,” he observed. “He has keys to my office.”
I rubbed my back and grunted. “You need a thicker carpet. Or maybe a folding bed.”
A spot of pink appeared on each cheek as he said, “I was thinking you could come back to my place. I have a proper bed.”
“Wow. You live a life of luxury. What about a shower? Do you have one of those?”
“I do.”
“I might take you up on that.” I bounded up, and Marc’s eyes instead of being on my face, were fixed on my cock.” He licked his lips, and I pulled him to his feet. I could go another round, me sitting on him as I rode him like a cowboy.
‘Now?” One eyebrow quirked as he tentatively stroked my hip.
“Mmmm.”
We spent the night together, though neither of us got much sleep. And as we lay curled in one another’s arms after a shower and a midnight snack, Marc’s fingers played with my damp hair. “Are you a student, Steve?”
“I am. I started college after high school but had to drop out. My dad lost his job, and I worked for a couple of years and helped him out before he got back on his feet. And now I’m back.”
‘Okay. And there’s no chance you’ll turn up in one of my classes?”
“I doubt it. I’m not taking English lit.” I flicked on a bedside lamp. I hadn’t thought beyond tonight. I grabbed his jaw and turned his face toward me. “Are you saying you’d like to see me again?” While I wasn’t against having a fuck buddy, it wasn’t something I’d planned on. And my life didn’t allow for a serious relationship. Though this alpha affected me in ways no one else had.
He chewed his bottom lip as he’d done earlier. “I… perhaps I spoke out of turn. I would like to…”
His words hung in the air, and I waited for him to complete the sentence. Sleeping with him every so often, no strings attached, would be a nice interlude to study. But what if he wanted more? If I was honest, I did too. But we knew nothing about one another. “Marc, I…”
He put a finger to my lips that held the scent of the crackers and cheese we’d eaten. The bed was covered in crumbs, and I gathered he wasn’t a neat freak, even though his house and office were pretty tidy. “It’s okay.”
“No. I’d like to see you again. But can we take it slow?” We’d done the opposite of dating and then sleeping together.
The light in his eyes faded. Poor guy, it wasn’t my intention to crush him. He’d misunderstood, thinking I was giving him the brushoff. “It’s just that with my student debt, I have little time for anything outside of study and tutoring.”
I hated disappointing him, and in truth, I wanted him in my life. “What I mean is, it’s almost summer and I won’t be in town during the vacation. So whatever this is, it has to be put on hold for the summer. I have a job as a junior speech writer on a political campaign for a guy who’s running for the Senate, so I’ll be traipsing over the state for ninety days. But we can keep in touch and see what happens in September.”
He nodded. “We can do that.” He pulled the covers over us and then made a face. “Crumbs!” we both said at the same time.
The last month of the semester was busy for both of us with exams and the end-of-year tying up of loose ends. I managed to stay at his place a few nights a week, and when we weren’t together, it’d become a habit to text one another morning and evening. It was cute. He’d send me cat videos and I’d reply with dog memes.
What surprised me was how comfortable it was. That wasn’t a word often used to describe a new relationship—more for a longer one where the first frenzy of new love had passed and they had entered a new phase.
Knowing we’d be separated for three months, I hadn’t considered what the future held—if anything. And that took the pressure off and we had a good time.
I spent the night at his place the day before I left. He was doing summer school, and I wished him well. I’d been offered a tutoring job, but it didn’t pay enough, sadly. That was the problem with academia. With mounting debts, I had to accept what offered the best salary.
Our parting was bitter-sweet. We’d made love. No fucking. And slept in one another’s arms. And as we said goodbye, a pang of loneliness hit me. I’m going to miss this alpha!
Nine
Marc
For the first six weeks or so of summer vacation, Steve and I communicated every day. We’d video chat and message whenever we had a spare moment and share amusing stories about our summer jobs. Me talking about my summer students and him about the excitement but also drudgery of a political campaign.
But the rest of the summer our communication was more spotty. His bosses were working him hard as their candidate was losing in the polls, and the workplace became more frenzied and not in a good way. Steve often pulled an all-nighter and instead of chatting he was either still in the office typing, or in the back of a campaign bus catching a few minutes sleep before getting on the merry-go-round again.
The closeness and camaraderie we’d developed was fraying by the time I said goodbye to my summer classes and enjoyed a couple of weeks break by the lake at Arthur’s summer cottage.
My friend and his husband, Samuel, shared glances as they did their best to get me enthusiastic about swimming, boating, and barbecues with neighbors while en
joying good food and a lakeside sunset. And I tried. Really, I did. I plastered a smile on my face as I attempted waterskiing. I was hopeless. Pretended to be interested in fishing. Boring. And agreed to camping under the stars, when I’d have preferred to be sipping wine on the cottage deck.
But Steve was foremost in my mind as I pictured him in the hot sun while his candidate spoke to small crowds outside grocery stores or in high school gyms, tweaking the speech each time to fit the audience.
The start of a school year held the promise of new beginnings, and was my favorite time of year. And this year, I was eager to get back to a routine and welcome a group of fresh faces, starting their tertiary education journey. And I hoped to reconnect with Steve. There’d been near total radio silence the past two weeks, which wasn’t a huge surprise as the wifi was spotty at the cottage. There were a handful of I’m so tired and Working late messages, and one missed call late at night.
But even though I was buried in paperwork and departmental meetings, my eyes constantly glanced at the phone, checking for messages. I sent one asking if he was back at college, and received a one-word reply. Soon.
And now classes had begun, and all I’d gotten was Talk soon.
Standing at my office window, I peered through the glass trying to spot him sitting on the grass with a book in his hand or chatting with a group of students. I had to face facts. He didn’t want to see me. I slumped in my chair and scrunched up a piece of paper. Aiming for the trash, I missed. Typical. Another crumpled up paper hit the window. A third landed near the door before I gave up and rested my head on the desk.
Arthur charged in without knocking and surveyed the mess. “Are you writing a new book? What’s it about? Do tell.” He was as giddy as a kid on Christmas Day.
“Nope. Frustrated.”
“You need to get laid. That omega at the lake wanted your number, but I said I had to ask you.”
