I honestly couldn’t say how I wound up without a stitch on his bed—I certainly didn’t remember entering his bedroom or removing my clothes, but one moment we were running palms under our shirts and over our trousers—he shaped my c**k while I gripped the firm curves of his arse—and the next I was stark, bollock naked.
Somehow I got James onto his back. I worked my way down to his groin, to that handsome c**k of his. The crown, slick with precome, was already peeking out of his foreskin, and my mouth went dry with the desire to taste him.
“Remy?”
“Let me—” I lowered my head and took him between my lips, and he gasped and thrust up, but more shallowly than I’d expected from someone who was inexperienced in receiving a blow job from another man.
I had every intention of having him climax,
