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What is heaven? It’s a question that has long plagued every mortal since the beginning of time. What exactly lies beyond our lifetime, and how do you discern whether you’ve made it to the realm of the good after everything’s been said and done?
Some say it’s impossible to answer this definitively; however, you’ve managed to figure it out pretty easily. If there ever comes a point in time where you’re surrounded by Luke Pearce’s warm cinnamon scent, his quiet groans filling the air, his flawless body flexing under your touch — you’re in heaven. No doubt about it.
By that logic, you must be deep within the golden gates right now.
Luke lays on your bed, propped on his elbows. His shirt lifted above his chest, revealing his spit-soaked nipples and hickey-littered sides, the visible results of your adoring mouth. His lips are red and puffy from your kisses earlier, his eyes are glassy and lidded from the mere sight of you between his legs. And tossed to the side is his laptop, open and paused on a soft-lit, amateur porno.
“Hot Babe Sucks Best Friend’s HUGE Dick [REAL]”. The title had made you snort when you first saw it. You wanted to surprise Luke, to use the key to his house he had given you months prior and excitedly reveal that you had finally won your case, so you’d be free for the next few days. Days that would be spent playing video games and cuddling with your best friend, spent letting him shower you with your favorite street foods and taking you around the city to show you his new hidden spots. The whole thing made sense in your head — why would he not want you around after giving you unlimited access to his space?
You don’t know why you didn’t stop at the door of his room when you had heard the noises. The loud whines, the lewd slurps from under the door. You knew he was home from his shoes by the door, but you should’ve turned around the minute you heard something strange. And yet, you had twisted the knob, had seen your Sherlock gasp in horror and slam his laptop shut as he tried to pull his pants back up.
You suppose you effectively did surprise him, just . . . not in the way either of you expected.
“Oh my god,” he gasps now, his arms lifting to cover his eyes as you undo his pants, revealing his strained boxers. You hum before glancing up at him, your mouth lowering to press a kiss to his bulge. He stills, his muscles tense and firm, and you move lower, kissing along until you meet the swollen sack below. Luke exhales quick, his other hand fisting the sheets, “Ngh. . . “
He sounds so beautiful when he’s relaxed like this, much better than the moans from the porn. You remember his tone when you had stared at him from the door, his coral eyes wide with fear as you came closer. The way he had said your name carefully as he tried to block you from moving towards the device, the way he groaned when you had opened it and typed in your birthday as the passcode. The hurried explanation he retched out when you had repeated the title aloud.
It’s just a title, I don’t get off to this fantasy in real life! Well, I mean, I was getting off to it now, but it’s not because of the best friend thing. And not the big dick thing either! It just looked- uh, interesting isn’t the right word, there’s a lot of porn with blowjobs- but I don’t know! I don’t know, so don’t think too much abo-
To shut him up, you acted on your instincts. Turning to face him and tapping on his shoulder didn’t work, and neither had saying his name. But kissing him had done the trick, his hands slacking before holding your sides softly, nervously, his lips responding to each push, each pull, each sigh.
It was a drastic move, but it’s not like you hadn’t wanted to do that for a while. Apparently, so did he.
You stroke his cock through his boxers, adding pressure the higher you travel until you’re pushing at his tip. He’s massive, each vein adding to the sheer intimidation he hides. You lock eyes with him — his arm now laying off to the side to reveal that wary stare — and nuzzle your cheek against him, rubbing his dick softly, “Do you want your best friend to suck your huge dick?” You graze your teeth ever so lightly along his underside, moving upwards, “Just like in that porn?”
Luke only warbles out your name in response, his mind utterly spent from the last few minutes. His hand moves to your hair, gently sifting it behind your ear before trailing his fingers down your cheek. You flush at the intimate gesture and mouth at his cock, sucking on it through the cloth, “Mmm . . . “
“Shit!” The word echoes through his bedroom, desperate and needy. His hold gets tighter, his chest gets redder, and you suck harder until the fabric feels gross on your tongue. You look at him sultrily, your eyes dark with desire, “Can I see it? I’m so curious . . . ”
How can he deny you when you’re sitting there, looking up at him like that with your hands on his thighs? He nods and you tug his boxers off, inhaling when his dick springs up tall. It’s the same tan of his skin, painted with a wash of red that intensifies at his tip, bright and leaking. You lick your lips at the translucent pre-cum before tenderly holding him, slowly moving back and forth.
Luke’s head moves back as he bucks up, his eyes wide and throat caught, “Ack!” His cock throbs in your hands, somehow more agitated than before, and you gingerly tug it straight before placing an open kiss on the large vein traveling below. Your tongue flattens and you let your drool trail down his skin, over his ballsack, “I love your dick, Luke. It’s so thick and pretty.”
Pretty. The word goes straight down, and he cries out as you pump him faster, “Fuck . . . fuck.” His cheeks are ablaze, the most flushed you’ve ever seen him, and he pushes your head closer as you mumble praise onto his cock. There’s something about Luke like this — eyes glossed-over and lips parted — that looks irresistibly erotic. You slow your movements down, and he props himself up against the pillow slightly to watch you better, his voice low, “Suck it.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You gaze down at his leaking tip and spit on it, letting your saliva trail down the side of his veins. Then, you gently kiss his agitated head before swirling your tongue and encompassing him with your mouth. Luke nearly passes out. His gasps are music to your ears, the motivation you seek to take him fully, and you let him stay at the back of your throat before bobbing slowly, steadily. His hips raise, just barely, just enough to show the sliver of control he holds onto. He’s close.
Up and down you move, your hands cupping his sack and massaging carefully. They’re so heavy, so full, so ready. You gasp as you pull off him, just as he’s arching and stuttering your name, and he looks at you bewildered, “Hah, shit! I almost came, fuck.”
“Do you want to cum?” you ask, innocently tilting your head. Luke’s face is pained as he pleadingly whines, and you lean forward to kiss him, your hand resuming its strokes below. He grimaces at the combination of spit and pre-cum on your tongue, but his mouth quickly relaxes as he moans from your touch, “Mhmm . . . “
“Is that a yes? I want to see what’s in here . . . ,” you tease. You push your palm over the head of his dick, rubbing firmly. He’s harder than before, and his flush only intensifies as he twitches under your hand. When he mumbles a soft ‘please’, you dip back down and repeat the actions of your hand with your mouth: pushing at his head with your tongue, taking him between your lips, and moving back and forth until his cock starts to twitch, until Luke is red with restraint. He bucks up to meet your mouth, fully sheathing himself in your throat, and when your moans begin to blur with his own cries of your name, you hollow out your cheeks and gag.
That’s what sends Luke over the edge. His broken cry fills the air: a short, breathy gasp of your name. His body stills as hot loads of cum shoot into your throat, and you force yourself to swallow the bitterness until he goes limp. You can admire him during this brief rest — his hair is matted to his sweaty skin, his tanned skin dusted with pink, and those swirling, rose eyes . . . He exhales sharply when you release him, and after you reach over to his nightstand to take a sip from his water bottle, he quietly busies himself with grabbing tissues and cleaning up.
You stop him. His hand quits moving when you rest yours upon it, his expression cautious as you give him a kind smile, “Did you think we were done?” He frowns, his eyebrows shooting up, and it’s a struggle to not laugh at the confusion in his voice, “Huh?”
“Now that I know what you’re hiding down there,” — you start working off your blouse, noting his dilated pupils when you reveal your skin —, “I want that huge dick all over me. I’m not letting you go for hours.”
Luke can only bob his head, not a single pure thought in his head. He’s just figured out what heaven looks like, too.