Boy Will

My girl will bring home a boy who looks just like me so we can fuck him. This will be at my request because I am a narcissist. She will be thrilled to fuck him, for us to fuck him, and she will talk about it at dinner the night before, then again in bed when she realizes she’s too excited to fall asleep.

The evening of she will wonder if we should drink a little before he shows up, and she will ask me aloud while she paces a little and I shower and trim around my cock into a strip. She will be full bald for the occasion but she’ll have no idea what to wear. Shoes? If so, the whole time? Makeup? And if so, is she going to sweat it off or drool it off? I will say that it’s really up to her and that the boy will drool, himself, no matter what.

The boy will show up exactly on time, meaning late, and she will act so nervous that I will know she’s not going to be able to cum. She is still excited, though, especially to see how I handle, she says, but I know she wants to have him inside her too, of course, and I will like seeing that for myself. The boy will start out seeming a little shy in a sweet boyish way, and she will keep grinning without realizing and that will make me grin too. She will strip with the same energy, sweet, a little shy, and I will watch, watch him watch. I will make him notice that I am looking at him. He will have my nose and what my girl calls my “doe eyes” but even more so, actually, my high school long hair, and he will look into her skin like he’s never seen it before, like I look at it too, like it’s a different color, texture with me there. I will strip too.

Her heart will feel tight like she’s at the top of a ladder and she will spin and bend over to drop her panties, but she will not once mention her asshole, hoping it isn’t the elephant in the room—not sure if she is ready for that yet, here—and so I will lick it but not try to put anything in it while the boy who looks just like me undresses. He will watch me slap a little at her vulva, and we will nearly kiss while licking her together.

It will be off to a great start and I will cup my balls while he pounds her, and she will not tell him slower or faster like she should be. I’ll shrug and say to come here and grab at his cock and balls daintily. I’ll squat and stick out my tongue slowly while staring right at her, performatively at first, then not, maybe more dedicated. Indulgently maybe, and my girl will like that and touch herself with one hand and my short hair with the other, the boy’s cock looking pink and full.

I will inhale deeply and smell salts. I will go ooh and kiss his shaft with a sticky phuah sound. Then they both will watch me dab my finger on the tip of his cock and stretch out a gleaming strand, like honey. She will feel hot and want me to stop, but I will not notice that and fuck up.

I will try to lift his cock with my tongue like a dumbbell, and I will blow bubbles and get spit foam in my eye and squint. I will jerk him how we hadn’t practiced, with my hand backwards like I do alone trying to be fancy or kinky, as kinky as I feel reasonable, when I’m in a rush and a finger on my prostate seemed too much—and I will consider that too, long and hard, and maybe decide against it—and I’ll roll my knuckles down his sunned back, his thin back like mine, from high school.

She will lock her fingers and think she just might cum after all so she’ll start rubbing and rubbing. I will keep glancing over at her purple labia starting to drip as much as my chin, when he calls me “good boy” for sucking him off, my first time but I’ll do okay, sloshy. My girl will hesitate to figure out what I’m doing and why, and I will make the gurt gurt sound like he’s in my tonsils but thankfully for me he is not that lucky. He will grab at my head and put his thumb on my eyebrow and moan, and my girl will not like it when I roll back my eyes and say gurt gurt gurt from in my throat like a doll and play with his ass even though she will have done it, herself, just a few minutes back when he was in her, and she will feel weird and naked naked when she realizes neither of us are fucking her.

She will hide baby hairs behind her ears and touch her tits performatively and he will flick at one of my nipples and then decide to kiss her slow with dragging lips. Then she’ll wrap her fingers around his cock and I’ll let go and just use my neck, half assuming that’s what she meant for me to do but also half loving it. She will quit kissing him when he quits kissing her to stare at me, into what she calls my “doe eyes.”

I will jerk myself and rock back and forth on my knees and she will quit touching herself altogether to just stare and she will put her hands on her knees, and sweat, quiet for another minute or so, as quiet as she might have been already, actually. I will not have noticed, actually, and he’ll fuck her again a little from behind and she will moan performatively and I will be able to tell that she is not even getting close, but he will pull out to cum at some point once the moaning is even more performative, cheap almost, and he will grab at her head this time and put a hand on her eyebrow this time and moan like he’s surprised or intimidated and that’ll get me pretty damn close, actually, just that on its own.

I’ll feel a trembly tingle in my back or my ass or somewhere and I’ll squat again and stick out my slobbery tongue readily to taste like she tastes, try for myself, be different than myself, but if I try to lean in she will push a hand square on the middle my chest, without looking back at all, like she just knew I’d be right there.

Photo by Helmut Newton


Kink, QueerLance Milhammain