And Call Me in the Morning by Willa Okati Page B

Maybe as punishment—though Eli wasn't about to complain—he slid down till his lips touched his hand and sucked, drawing his cheeks hollow enough that Eli could see the bulge of his cock inside.
     
    Eli wanted to ask if Zane had practiced on bananas or something. No one could be this good without some prep work. God knew Eli was sure he wouldn't be. Fuck. He didn't care. What he wanted more was to get his hands on some of Zane. Or any part of him. He shifted his leg and found, with his knee, the hard fullness of Zane's cock. Not much contact as contact went but he could remind Zane, intimately, that it wasn't just Eli up for grabs here.
     
    Zane spat out Eli's dick and arched his back. “Oh, God.”
     
    “Turnabout's fair play,” Eli said, or meant to. It came out as a long groan, shuddering with amazement. So maybe he didn't know what he was doing. Playing it by ear seemed to be working just fine. He tugged awkwardly at Zane's slacks, working them down inch by inch. Had to stop every time Zane's head bobbed and wet heat engulfed him, and kept fumbling every time he looked down at his cock, so huge and fat. Had he ever been this hard? Looked fucking huge, rigid and rock solid and straining to come.
     
    Zane drew off and began to work Eli with his hand and his hand alone, though he kept his face close enough to rub his cheek along the slick shaft. “Close,” he said, breathing shallow. He gave Eli's balls a quick, clumsy grope, licked them, licked Eli's cockhead. “No clue what I'm doing.”
     
    “Could have fucking fooled me,” Eli managed.
     
    Zane laughed. It was that, and the light that glinted in his eyes, and the slick twist of his wrist—who knew, but it was all too much, the roughness of his grasp and the rasp of his stubble against Eli's inner thigh and the surge his cock gave in Zane's hand. Eli couldn't hold it back—fought, but couldn't—and he was coming, just like he'd imagined, his cum striping Zane's face in creamy lines. Zane opened his mouth to catch some on his tongue.
     
    He came back to himself with Zane's cock throbbing against his palm and Zane kissing him, the taste of his own cum thick and salty on Zane's tongue, Zane's lips bent in a broad grin even as he kissed Eli sloppy and eager.
     
    “Not bad for a beginner, huh?”
     
    Eli tried to remember how to breathe.
     
    He knew he didn't have to reciprocate. He wanted to. Made all the difference in the world. Though his arms felt like rubber, and his legs no better, he pushed at Zane. “Get on your back,” he said, roughed out through the aftershocks of orgasm. “Now.”
     
    Zane let himself be tipped over. Once arranged to Eli's liking, he indulged himself with a good long stare into those gray eyes, trying to say everything he couldn't out loud, and shoved harder, pressing Zane into the mattress.
     
    Clumsily he managed to wriggle over Zane and to pull his legs wide apart. The slacks, still half on, got in his way. He hesitated, thought about pulling them all the way off, but was distracted by his first clear sight of Zane's cock. Good God. Had his looked like that to Zane? Dark, heavy, shadowed beneath where his balls hung tight and so full.
     
    He had to touch. Slowly, curiously, Eli weighed them in his palm. He stopped abruptly when Zane groaned and jerked up, throwing his arm over his eyes, his breathing more panting than not. “Please,” Zane begged, and that was more than Eli could take, ever.
     
    “Shh,” he soothed, stroking Zane's thighs. “I've got you. Just—don't expect this to be good.”
     
    Zane's snort of amusement broke down the middle. “Eli,” he said, remarkably clear. “Have you ever had a bad blowjob?”
     
    Good point, and be damned if Eli could be bothered. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and found his place. Let it happen.
     
    Zane's cock didn't feel like what Eli had expected. He'd thought he'd be stunned by the texture or by the taste, that he'd flinch away automatically, but