Song Hyunsoo kept his gaze locked straight on Yoon Jooho’s eyes as he took the head of his cock into his mouth.
When his mouth was filled with him, he used the pressure of his tongue and the roof of his mouth to push it back out.
As Yoon Jooho was pushed out, his glans slick with saliva, he aimed it again at Song Hyunsoo’s lips.
Song Hyunsoo parted his lips just enough to take only the tip, then lifted his tongue to tease the slit.
Hmm, hoo.
Yoon Jooho’s breathing was intense. The eyes looking down at him glinted, almost as if filled with anger.
It’s because of me. He’s this excited because of me.
A shiver of thrill ran down Song Hyunsoo’s nape, making his whole body tingle. With his arms pinned beneath Yoon Jooho’s calves, he clenched and unclenched his fists again and again.
He sucked hard, filling his mouth and squeezing tight, then pushed it out, wrapped his tongue around the head and rubbed it, sometimes glancing up, only to spit it out again.
Song Hyunsoo acted like a fickle child.
Each time he pushed it out of his lips, Yoon Jooho frowned deeply and grabbed the base of his cock, pushing the head back in.
They repeated this over and over.
A crooked smile appeared on Yoon Jooho’s face as Song Hyunsoo’s agile tongue flicked over the slit.
“Not pulling out feels pretty good, you know?”
Threading his fingers through Song Hyunsoo’s damp, sweat-soaked hair, he asked in a voice so sweetly affectionate it made one’s heart ache.
“Who taught you to use your tongue like that, hmm?”
Not pulling out is what you like, isn’t it? What does it matter who taught me how to give a blowjob?
Song Hyunsoo, feeling the urge to tease him more, pressed the tip of his tongue and tried to push down on the head. But the thick flesh filling his mouth didn’t budge this time.
Yoon Jooho lifted his hips, gripping the base tight, and pressed his cock even deeper into Song Hyunsoo’s mouth.
“Mm, mm. Mmm.”
It went so deep, the head was touching the back of his throat. And yet, two-thirds of that shaft still remained.
Song Hyunsoo lifted his head, moving it back and forth, focusing on pressing the head. He couldn’t take the whole length, so he used his tongue to directly stimulate the tip.
Yoon Jooho’s large hand cradled the back of Song Hyunsoo’s head. As he looked up at the broad shoulders and chest, trembling with arousal, Song Hyunsoo’s rear kept twitching involuntarily.
“Hey, Bibitan.”
Looking down at him with affectionate eyes, Yoon Jooho tapped Song Hyunsoo’s cheek.
“Mmm. Mmm?”
“It’s good, but… At this rate, I’ll never be able to finish, you know.”
His arousal kept peaking, but each time he was stopped just before release, leaving Yoon Jooho a little irritated.
He grabbed the base of his cock and pulled back.
The head scraped against the roof of Song Hyunsoo’s mouth, the pronounced ridge dragging across his lips as it slipped out— every sensation vivid and raw.
Honestly, he wasn’t usually one for anal sex. Yet now, he felt strangely empty inside, like a tight spring had suddenly been pulled out.
Yoon Jooho’s cock bounced out, slapping against his lower abdomen as if a strong spring had been released. The fluid that spattered from it splashed across Song Hyunsoo’s face and eyelashes.
Sliding his arms out from under Yoon Jooho’s calves, Song Hyunsoo wiped his face first. Then he tapped the thigh pressing down on his shoulder.
“Move. I’ll use my hand.”
“Your hand? I was hoping you’d finish me with your mouth, you know?”
“How is this my fault? It’s your fault for having dynamite strapped on, senior.”
He shot a glance at the cock still bobbing right in front of his nose, and Yoon Jooho sighed in resignation.
He relaxed his thighs and slid off Song Hyunsoo’s chest. Sitting up, Song Hyunsoo pushed him back onto the pillow.
Oh ho. Yoon Jooho cheered playfully as Song Hyunsoo, already a mess, tossed aside his disheveled robe. Without hesitation, he buried his face between Yoon Jooho’s legs and lay down.
He gripped the thick, veined shaft and began to stroke.
Tak, tak, tak.
He squeezed the shaft with his fingers, while simultaneously assaulting the head with lips and tongue.
He added visual stimulation, too— locking eyes with Yoon Jooho as he rubbed his lips over the head, or sticking out his tongue to slowly, deeply lick from the base all the way up.
Yoon Jooho’s gaze was scorching. What he held in his hand was even hotter.
Even if it was another man’s cock, if it was shaped beautifully, it was easier to take it in his mouth. It was honestly a perfectly sculpted piece, like ivory carved by a master.
The head had the ideal slope to slide smoothly into a tight body, the thickness and length to fill every inch inside, and a hardness that made it seem like it could plunge in and out as many times as needed to fully satisfy a partner.
Could this thing even get a man pregnant? If his virility was this overwhelming, maybe it was possible.
What would it feel like to have this buried all the way to the end of your guts?
Ah…
Yoon Jooho closed his eyes, tilting his chin up as a low moan escaped him. He surrendered to the sensations, savoring the pleasure. He ruffled Song Hyunsoo’s hair, fingers playing with his earlobe as Song Hyunsoo’s face was buried between his thighs.
Slurp, slurp, slurp.
The moment Song Hyunsoo felt the pulse quicken in his mouth, Yoon Jooho grabbed the back of his head and yanked him off. As his cock slipped out, semen spattered everywhere.
He thought Yoon Jooho would finish in his mouth, but surprisingly, he didn’t. Before he could fully process that, Yoon Jooho’s hot hand covered the back of Song Hyunsoo’s as he still gripped the shaft.
Their hands overlapped, stroking together. Sitting up, Yoon Jooho’s breath brushed right against Song Hyunsoo’s cheek.
He parted his lips, then bit down on them, frowning, breathing hard, glaring at Song Hyunsoo. Song Hyunsoo couldn’t look away from Yoon Jooho’s face, twisted in climax.
I want to kiss him.
He wanted to press their lips together, tangle their tongues, and share the most intense moment of pleasure, holding each other tight.
But Song Hyunsoo’s lips, which had parted, slowly closed again.
After he finished, Yoon Jooho sprawled out on the mattress. Stretching his arms out like he was yawning, he turned his head to look up at Song Hyunsoo.
“I can’t call you Bibitan anymore, can I?”
“Was it that good?”
“Easily Top 3.”
Even after both of them had finished once, Song Hyunsoo still felt unsatisfied, like he’d stopped at just an erection.
“That’s a relief. I’d like to use the bathroom, if that’s okay.”
Yoon Jooho nodded, pointing toward the door.
“That way. Down the hall from earlier.”
As he walked to the door, he could feel Yoon Jooho’s gaze clinging to his back, but he didn’t feel like provoking him anymore.
He didn’t even have the energy to admire how luxurious Yoon Jooho’s bathroom was, far beyond anything for guests.
He splashed water on his face and rinsed out his mouth.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What’s your problem, huh?”
He wiped the water from his face and muttered curses at his reflection in the mirror.
Kisses or hugs. He’d never expected those things from other men on a bed. Maybe as foreplay to heighten the mood, but after sex, cuddling was just an unnecessary step between men. That’s how Song Hyunsoo had always lived.
Maybe Yoon Jooho hadn’t noticed, but acting so out of character left him feeling unsettled.
Did he want to pretend to be lovers with Yoon Jooho or something? Why was he acting like this, doing things he never did?
When he returned from the bathroom, Yoon Jooho was still sprawled out, propped on his elbow, smoking a cigarette.
The long, smooth, well-kept lines of his back were enough to draw the eye and disrupt anyone’s breathing. But Song Hyunsoo feigned indifference.
He circled the bed to pick up his robe, half hanging off the far corner.
Yoon Jooho’s gaze followed Song Hyunsoo’s body, inch by inch. He was never the type to hide his interest, anyway.
“You’ve got a pretty nice body, now that I see you naked.”
“Working at the bar and doing odd jobs at the theater are all basically manual labor.”
As he picked up the crumpled robe, he shot Yoon Jooho a sidelong glance.
“Are you into the delicate type?”
“Delicate, burly… It’s not really about that…”
Yoon Jooho seemed to consider for a moment, then tapped his cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand.
“I just prefer beautiful things, whatever side they’re on.”
Beautiful things.
Thump. Something heavy shook Song Hyunsoo’s world again.
He’d heard he was handsome, good-looking, even that he looked like a troublemaker, and his girlfriends had called him cute. But he’d never been told he was beautiful.
You didn’t have to look like Yoon Jooho to be a beautiful man. But no matter how he thought about it, his own looks didn’t seem to fall into that category.
Song Hyunsoo paused as he turned his back to Yoon Jooho, pulling on his robe. As if yanked by an invisible hook, he turned his head sharply to look back at Yoon Jooho lying on the bed.
He wondered why he always felt disappointed or hopeful when he tried to see himself in Yoon Jooho’s words.
Why did he want to kiss him after sex, to hold him close?
He’d finally figured it out. He’d realized it.
“Why.”
“No. It’s nothing, really.”
He shook his head several times and turned his face away. He hurriedly fastened the collar of his robe and tied the belt.
“Leaving already?”
“Once business is done, it’s time to go.”
“……”
“We’re not even dating.”
Mimicking Yoon Jooho’s words, Song Hyunsoo gave a bitter smile.
He finally understood why, when Yoon Jooho had said those words, it had felt like the ground was falling away beneath his feet.
As Song Hyunsoo was tying his belt, Yoon Jooho came up behind him. He wrapped his arms across Song Hyunsoo’s chest, slipping his hands inside the robe, and pressed his lips to his ear.
“Not enough.”
“What are you talking about? After cumming that much.”
The teeth biting at his earlobe were threatening. It felt like he’d bare hidden fangs and tear into his flesh at any moment. It was obvious his lust hadn’t been satisfied at all.
“Just cumming isn’t enough for me.”
That whining voice— so cleverly calculated to know exactly how to conquer someone and get what he wanted.
“That’s your problem, senior.”
“I want to fuck you.”
Yoon Jooho pressed his half-hard cock right up against Song Hyunsoo’s ass. As if whispering a lover’s secret, he lowered his voice and murmured intimately by his ear.
“I want to shove this into your body and fuck you so hard you cry and beg me to stop.”
“……”
“My hips are itching like crazy.”