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Proof
"No way."
"Tellin' ya."
"Riiight." Ray rolled his eyes. "And it gets me hot to give a backrub. Why don't you try it and see if you get off?"
The Polack snorted good-naturedly. "Don't know what you're missing." And he went down with no protest, nothing but a grin that reminded Ray enough of the wolf that he thought, That mouth could do some serious damage to my equipment. And then that mouth was doing serious damage to his train of thought, and he gasped out, "Fuck, Kowalski, you do that like you like it," and Kowalski, damn it, let go, and grinned up at him with swollen lips, and said, "I do like it."
Which was crazy, right? Do a guy a favor, get a favor back, yeah, he could see that, and he was working up to this particular favor in his own go od time. Maybe next time. But when you came right down to it, it had to be uncomfortable. And that wasn't even thinking about what it must taste like.
So you had to give him the prize for idiot of the day, because he sat there with his dick sticking out of his pants and argued with the guy.
"No way."
"Hey, it's hot." Kowalski still had Ray's cock in his hand, and he gave it a little tug and said, "I can make you do anything I want. Think I don't get off on that?"
"Sure," he said when he could get a breath, "nice in your mind maybe --"
Kowalski got to his feet, undoing those ratty jeans with one hand and grabbing Ray's head with the other. "This look like job satisfaction, Vecchio? Nice warm feeling you get from work well done?" He tipped out his cock, obscenely red and shiny. Ray jerked his head back, and Kowalski made a hushing noise like he was a dog, and then he leaned forward and just rubbed it on Ray's lips for a second.
Smooth. Hot. Slick. He tucked his botto m lip in, and it didn't taste like spunk. More like tears, maybe. He took a deep breath and got a whiff of musk and motor oil, and it was good, and before he knew what he was doing, he'd pursed his lips around the tip of Kowalski's cock.
"Yeah," Kowalski said soothingly. "That's it."
Ray glanced up and saw Kowalski looking down at him, looking, what, fond? Kowalski had hold of his cock with one hand, offering Ray just the last couple inches, and his other hand was petting Ray's face. He kept doing it as Ray opened up for that hot mouthful, and he grated out, "Yyyyeah," and Ray, feeling absurdly pleased to have gotten that much reaction out of him, went down a bit further, until his mouth touched Kowalski's fingers, which tightened convulsively against his lips.
He pulled back a little and gave an experimental suck, and Kowalski's hips bucked, driving his knuckles against Ray's mouth. "Sorry," he gasped ou |t. Ray sucked again, and Kowalski grabbed his head and pulled him off. He was panting.
Ray rolled his tongue over the salty roof of his mouth, looked up at Kowalski's fuck-drunk face. "Gimme more. I can take it."
Kowalski grinned at him and dropped to his knees again. "Maybe," and his voice was muffled by Ray's trousers, "next time."
-end-
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July 12, 2004
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