Maskysluvr - H A N N A H !

<-.poser boy.->

~WARNINGS~ male orgasm, teasing, nipple play, slight angst, handjob (m receiving), dryhumping

DNI UNDER 16

“Mmm…”

If there was one good thing about being dead, it was the fellow ghosts. Half of you regretted trodding to the abandoned mansion at the end of the street, where you ended up being stabbed to death and robbed by who would have been a potential weed dealer. But the other half…damn. Sometimes being dead was not all bad.

When you first met Tate Langdon, you assumed the worst. After all, he was some wannabe Columbine-copycat, some masochist attention-seeker who sat in his room all day and listened to poser bands like Nirvana. You were more than that, weren’t you? He was just some edgy teen. Well, so you thought.

But now here you were, sitting on his bed with your lips mashed against his. His soft tongue kept poking out tenderly, swooning your lips into opening just enough so he could press his tongue’s tip against yours. He let out a soft whine before tugging you closer.

You kept your eyes shut as he pulled your shirt over your head, still too embarrassed to make eye contact with the boy you convinced yourself you hated. As he kitten-licked your chest, you tried to let your mind wander to think of anything but the poser boy grabbing your waist. But you couldn’t. Instead all you could do was grab his hair by the roots and squeeze your eyes shut as he drew perfect little circles around your hard nipples with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck yes…”

Damn, he was vocal, and that made it all the worse. It was hard to pretend it wasn’t him when he was humping your thigh and moaning into your skin. You felt his throbbing erection against you and you laid there quietly, not knowing how to respond. You died without your first kiss, but God forbid you let Tate know that. And to know he somehow craved you this badly, it was more of an ego boost than anything. That was, if you ignored the ache nestled under your hips. But that had to be unrelated, right? You couldn’t be horny for the loser lapping at your chest.

You watched blankly he hastily tugged his dick out of his pants and gave it two quick strokes to help ease the aching. Precum was dripping in little clear beads from the tip, and out of sheer boredom (as you tried to convince yourself) you began to rub your thumb softly on the swollen tip. He let out a loud whine and buried his face in your neck.

“Please…please…I needa cum…”

How fucking pathetic. And yet, you were tugging softly at his throbbing cock, wondering wistfully how he would feel tucked deep inside you. He let out another loud moan as he clawed at your waistband, feeling your arousal through your pants. It felt good. So good.

“C’here.”

You whispered as you let your legs fall apart. He immediately nodded with understanding and began rubbing his tenderness against your crotch. With each hump, his eyes rolled back into his head. You almost did not notice that now you weren’t just making out with him with your eyes open, but you were checking him out. Pools of precum from his leaking cock covered the front of your jeans as he mumbled and moaned into your shoulder. With a soft yank you tugged his shirt off, and began rolling his nipples over your thumb as he whimpered into your skin.

A couple more rough humps, and you felt a spurt of warmth against your crotch. But this time you forgot to hold back your moans, and he looked up with soft surprise at the idea you might have just enjoyed this. His cheeks were tinged red and he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw as he rode his orgasm out on your thigh. Your jeans were covered in his warm cum, but somehow you didn’t care.

After the bliss passed, he opened his eyes and his lips curved into a smirk.

“You gotta let me have more.”

The fucking pervert. But somehow you still found yourself tugging your jeans down. So much for pretending.