Hello all! Hope you're all doing great. Here's the second chapter of Shura's story. Enjoy!
Preview:
"What day are we again?" He asks, blinking slowly, the fog of sleep and sex still clinging to his thoughts.
"It's Saturday." Jason answers, walking around the counter to lean back against it, his arms crossing over his chest, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut over his biceps.
"Oh right." A slow, wicked smile spreads across the femboy's lips, his teeth nibbling at the bottom one as an idea forms, bright and tempting. "Hey, I got nothing to do today, wanna hang out?" He offers, his voice dropping into a purr, his hips swaying slightly as he takes a step closer, closing the distance between them until he can see the faint stubble along Jason’s jaw, and the exact shade of his irises in the morning light.
The young man's gaze travel from his roommate's face, down over the full his chest, over his flat stomach, down to his half-hard fuck-python hanging thick and heavy between his plush thighs, the silver ring glinting, a bead of clear pre-cum already gathering at the slit. Jason’s eyes linger there for a beat, and Shura something that makes his lips curl further up, a subtle stir in Jason's jeans, his dick thickens for just a second before he masterfully schools his expression, his gaze snapping back up to Shura’s face with practiced coldness. "Don't you have simps to bleed dry of their money or some shit?" He shoots back, his tone icy, but the trap doesn’t miss the faint flush creeping up his ears.
The redhead throws his head back and laughs, rich and throaty, the sound echoing in their small kitchen. "No need to be jealous, dorogoy" Shura teases, cocking his hip to the side so his ass cheek juts out, plump and ripe. "My heart is big enough for everyone" He sings-song, placing a hand over his chest dramatically.
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"You ever been here?" Shura asks as they settle in, his voice a low, curious purr as he leans his elbows on the table, the vinyl of his pants squeaking faintly against the leather booth, his harness digging pleasantly into his chest.
"Here, this restaurant, or here, this chain of restaurants?" Jason asks, his gaze sweeping the room with a detached, analytical look, taking in the fake lobster traps and framed nets on the walls, the bustling waitstaff in their crisp uniforms.
"Both?" Shura giggles, the sound light and airy, his painted nails tapping a restless rhythm on the laminated menu.
"No, and no." Jason says flatly, not looking at the femboy, his attention seemingly fixed on a nearby family celebrating a birthday with a oversized sundae. "I couldn’t afford this kinda place unless it’s a special occasion, and there aren’t that many aside from my birthday and… that’s it." He says, his tone flat, lacking any kind of self-pity, just a stark statement of fact, and it lands in Shura’s chest with a surprising weight, a sudden, sharp awareness of the chasm between his flamboyant, stream-funded hedonism and Jason’s quiet, pragmatic reality.
Before the femboy can formulate a response, a young waiter approaches, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly as he takes in Shura’s appearance, his gaze snagging on the harness and the blatant outline of his cock before he quickly schools his expression into professional neutrality. "O, moy milyy mal'chik" Shura coos with affection, his golden eyes softening as he looks at Jason across the table, reaching out to gently nudge his foot under the table with the pointed toe of his platform boot. "Don’t look so grim, Jason. Today’s a special occasion, then. My treat" He says firmly, leaving no room for argument, his gaze holding the young man's as the waiter sets down the menus with a polite smile.
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Shura opens wider, and he engulfs the head along with a couple of inches, his lips stretching around Jason’s girth, his tongue flattening against the underside as he takes him into the wet heat of his mouth. He lifts his eyes to Jason, his golden gaze locking with Jason’s light-blue one, holding that connection as he begins to swallow him, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Shura lets his throat relax, his jaw open wider, and he takes his roomie deeper, feeling the thick rod slide past his lips, over his tongue, into the tight wet tunnel of his throat.
"Oh my God!" Jason moans, holding his forehead with one hand as he tries to resist the urge to cum right away. His cock is a relentless invasion, stretching Shura, filling him. The femboy doesn’t stop until all nine inches are lodged deep in his throat, and his nose is pressed firmly into Jason’s pelvis, his throat convulsing around his entire length. He stays there for a few seconds, his eyes still locked on Jason’s, wide and unblinking, a silent testament to his skill and his hunger.
"Urgh, fuuuck!" The man moans out, his voice ragged and raw, torn from his chest, his hands coming down to grip Shura’s crimson space buns, his fingers digging into his hair, holding him there. Then, slowly, with a dramatic, controlled drag, the girly influencer pulls back, his lips dragging along the cock as he retreats, leaving a slick, shiny trail of saliva and a perfect, smudged black ring of his lipstick around the base of his meat, a filthy tattoo of Shura’s mouth. He finally releases Jason with a wet, gasping pop, his lips parting, and he sits back on his heels, looking up at him, his face flushed, his lips swollen and glossy, his breath coming in heavy pants. A string of spit and pre-cum connects Shura’s lips to Jason’s dick, he doesn’t wipe it away and simply lets it hang there.