You know that guy—the one at work you kinda want to fuck? But when you’re being honest with yourself and/or had too many gin and tonics at the company holiday party, you can admit that you don’t kinda want to fuck him, but really want to fuck him?
Well, in Dario Dalla Lasta’s “Marble Sentinels,” that guy’s name is Joey. You would be Brett. (Actually, you might remember Brett from “Spongebath Squeezepants.”) In this excerpt from Dario Dalla Lasta’s Squeeze Pants, we get to experience more of Mr. Dalla Lasta’s masterfully dirty mind, his exquisite attention to sensory detail, and, let’s be honest, his undying affection for cock. We pick up in the men’s room of Brett and Joey’s office building, where the two have planned to meet for what is possibly the most amazing “first time.” Ever.
The stall door pushes open, and immediately a pair of arms wrap around my waist, his soft lips crushing against mine with feverish intent. He must be even hornier than me. I return the kiss with just as much fervor while entwining my arms around his sinewy back until my hands rest on his ass shelf. Damn, boy has got a booty on him. My erection makes its presence known, especially after Joey’s packed crotch grinds against mine. His dick feels like a coiled snake, ready to strike. I throw my head back for a succession of kisses he plants along my neck. Our excitement echoes within the tiled walls, escalating as our fumblings turn more intense. By this point, my hands crawl up his shirt, playing with his nipples and smoothing down his fuzzy six pack. His tongue twirls in my ear, and his hot breath pours down the side of my face, ratcheting up my hotness to the boiling point. My cock drips with pre-come, the wetness spreading by the minute. Frantically, I begin undoing his belt by touch alone, my eyes blind in the dark, my tongue now swirling inside his mouth, trying to taste him, to get deeper inside this hunky man who I’ve been pining away for, this sexy stud who kisses me like a long-lost lover. No doubt he hasn’t kissed another man in quite some time from the way he paws at me.
The belt buckle undone, I unzip his pants to discover an insistent pecker knocking on my knuckles trying to get out of its tight cage. No problem there. I pull the briefs down his thighs and disengage our mouths to concentrate on what has sprung out of his pants. A lively and long beast, from the feel of it. My palm runs up and down its silky length, and I grasp the burning shaft in my fist, squeezing all the way to the tip until a drop of semen seeps out. My finger swipes at it, and I lick it off.
Joey squirms under my touch and swoops down to bite my nipple. When his teeth start to hurt me, I push him back so that I can fall to my knees and begin worshipping that gorgeous cock with my hungry mouth and loving hands. After a few sucks, his knees tremble and he almost pulls out. I refuse to let that happen and keep his cock right where it is. He relents, exhales loudly, and grabs the back of my neck. Forcing himself further down my throat, he pushes all the way in until I gag. My eyes begin watering—no doubt from happiness, at this point. He feels so good in there that I know his perfect-sized dick belongs in my mouth. He must agree with me because he begins face-fucking me faster and harder until his erection is ramming down my esophagus like a piston. Like I give a shit. I suck as if his dick is oxygen giving me life. I live for his fingers mauling my hair, for his groans of pleasure, for the nasty slurping sounds I make, and for the jizz that builds up in his bouncy balls that slap my chin. I want to drain him dry.
Squeeze Pants is now available on Amazon!
The image used on the home page is courtesy of Isaac Ben Sanchez via Wikimedia Commons. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/fester56/7238520676/in/photostream/)