Chapter Three: The Forbidden

Ryan 

I thought about it for days on end. I have awoken many nights to throbbing erections, knowing that my neighbor and the man I’m supposedly dating is the cause. 

But it has never gone beyond that. 

   I have not once tried to touch him or come face to face with how I truly feel.  Because he isn’t like me—he's in love with a woman who loves him back. Going after what I want would only shatter his happiness. 

But, at this moment, he’s kissing me, and all I can think about is slipping my hands down there and touching him. I want to know what makes him hot and heavy, what does it for him when I’m stroking myself in the shower, the fog from the hot water covering my naked body. 

  So, I do it. I let my hands roam down his body, taking time to tease his nipples, growing even harder when he groans into my mouth. I resist the urge to tear my lips from his and tongue his nipples, like I’ve done to many other girls. 

  Because there is a part of me that is scared of what will happen if this moment is stolen from us. So, still kissing him, I work the ropes of his joggers with my fingers, untying it and slipping my hand in.  

I cup him through his briefs, marveling at how big he is in my palm. I wonder for a brief second if I will be able to take him in. Of course, I haven’t done it before, and I don’t know if I like men…

I just know that at this moment, all I want to do is touch Caleb. 

   I pull his briefs down a bit, and there is nothing between his hard length and my eager, stroking fingers. He moans into my mouth again and catches my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly. 

   I thumb the tip of his erection, surprised and delighted when I feel pre-cum beads on his head. 

   His hand comes to cover mine, and he guides me to stroke him. It’s a little slow at first, and I play with his balls at some point, but his hands become hurried, faster as his breath comes out in frantic gasps into my mouth. 

    

  

   Caleb stops kissing me for a moment, and I go still, keeping my eyes down, afraid that I would see rejection in them. But he only adjusts so that he is higher than I am on the couch, and I am close to his erection. 

  Then, he guides my head to his throbbing manhood and gently pushes my face until my lips touch him. On impulse, my tongue darts out to touch the corner of my lip, and I taste a hint of salt. 

I’ve heard men talk about tasting their cum out of curiosity, but none have admitted to liking how it tasted. Caleb must be different, because all I want, as I take him fully into my mouth, is to find out how he tastes. 

  His fingers take hold of my hair, and he gets a little rough, pushing me further down when I try to take him in. I don’t mind, because he lets me come up for air when it gets too much, and he seems to like it when I slobber all over. 

      His throaty moans echo in our apartment as I try different things on his cock—taking him deep till I’m gagging, licking the side of his entire length, and deep sucking the tip, lightly folding him underneath. 

    I feel myself getting even harder, and one hand finds its way between my legs and into the pants I had been wearing when he came out to the living room. 

I stroke myself as he pushes me down and groans even louder, his toes curling behind my waist. I know he’s getting close when his breath begins to come out in labored gasps, and his fingers pull tighter on my hair. 

  But the combination of pushing him closer to the edge and the pain that brings pleasure pushes me even further too, and I feel myself getting close. 

  “Fuck…Ryan. Fuck. I don’t know, I think, I think I’m going to come,” his voice is like a strangled plea. 

I would have said the same too, if I weren't filled with him.  If I didn’t need him to come undone, to prove that I could do it better than Anna. Caleb confessed to me once that Anna had never made him get off from a blow job, but I knew I could do it this time around.

   I deliberately withdraw and lick around his head, making eager circles while my hands work on me. Sensing the withdrawal, he reaches down and touches my arousal, his body curved over mine in a way that pushes him further down my throat. 

   Feeling his hand on me as he begins to stroke takes away my last thread of control, and I snap, grunting hard enough and coming into his hand seconds later after warm, thick liquid fills my throat and spills down the sides of my mouth. 

I stay in my position, my tongue licking away whatever remained on him. When his hand comes down to pay my head, soothing the parts where he pulled too hard, I almost purr in contentment. 

   We stay there for minutes, chests heaving and trying to catch our breath. 

   Then, Caleb edges away from me, leaving me on the couch, and stands up. 

“Where are you going?” I ask, reaching out to touch him, needing the aftercare. But he shies away from my touch and looks away, adjusting his briefs and joggers. 

  

“I need to use the bathroom and get some rest. I had a long day, and arguing with Anna really stressed me out. I also have to cover a shift for someone in the night, so a lot of sleep will do me good. 

   Go to bed, okay? I’ll probably be asleep when you wake up in the morning.”

I watch as he walks away, puzzled as to why the sudden change came over him. A moment ago, he was holding on to me for dear life. Now, it looks as though he cannot wait to not see me again.