Page 60 of Breaking Vincent
“The one with David Bowie. The hair, the tights… the bulge. I’m pretty sure that film was my gay-awakening.”
David laughs, but he's got to understand how insane the man looked with the grey tights framing his goods.
“What about you, what's your favourite film?”
“Gremlins,” he says with a shrug. “What does a perfect day or date sound like for you?”
I guess we’re getting deep, but it doesn't take me long to think of my answer. “Something like this, I’m a real homebody. I like to sleep in on my days off and spend my time lounging about watching telly, eating crappy food and relaxing. My perfect date night is basically the same, except it's dark outside and you’re there.”
Our date continues in a pleasant way, we chat about nothing and everything. Once all the food has been eaten and cleaned away, David suggests moving over to the living room area with a bottle of wine.
I’m not usually a wine drinker, but I want the night to continue. So, we sit comfortably on the sofa, each holding a glass of red wine.
I don’t know a lot about wine, so I couldn’t tell you if this one is a good or bad brand, but either way it tastes like vinegar.
I take one more sip before placing my glass on the coffee table in front of me. I sit back and lean on my side, fully facing the man in front of me.
He stretches his arm out and offers me his hand, I eagerly accept.
Just like his feet, his hands are ridiculously soft.Dammit stop thinking about his feet!
Chapter 24 –
David
Vincent climbs over and plonks himself down on top of my lap, straddling my hips.
The weight of his bigger body on top of mine is crushing, but in the best possible way. My hands automatically brush up his thighs, finding their own way to his ass.
He leans in closer and rubs his nose against mine. I pull his body closer to me, feeling the hardness of his cock rub against my lower stomach.
“I know you said it was ok to go as fast or as slow as I wanted, but I don’t want to go slow. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. I need you too much.” He slowly rocks his ass in my lap, making my semi shoot to fully erect.
He leans closer to me, nudging my ear with his nose, “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. Just know that I want it all. Call me greedy, but I need it.” He pants against my skin as he uses his tongue to lick my neck.
How am I supposed to deny the man what he obviously wants?
I wrap one of my hands around the back of his neck and pull him closer to me. “What do you want from me? If you knew I would say yes, what would you want?” I ask as I slip my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He whines something, too jumbled for me to understand. “Tell me, Tesoro, what dirty fantasies do you have stored away in that pretty head of yours?” I say as I tighten my grip and snap his neck back.
I lick a stripe up his neck, groaning at the taste of him on my tongue. His Adams Apple clicks over and over again.
His hips grind down harder on my lap, it feels so good that I swear I could come from the friction alone.
“I want you to hurt me. Whip me until I bleed. Choke me until I pass out. I want you to carve your name into my skin, so everybody knows who I belong to.”
He tips his head down to look at me, so I release my hold on his hair. “I know we might not be there yet, but it’s true. I belong to you.”
And there it is, the weighty feeling of somebody not only wanting me, but wanting to be owned by me.
“Kiss me?” he pleas.
I sit further up and hold his body close to mine, both hands holding him firmly against my dick. I press my lips to his and he responds by opening his mouth and shoving his tongue against mine.
He tastes like red wine and lust.
So. Fucking. Tasty. I swear, I’ll never get enough.