Blake Hart
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The Size of Texas – Part 10
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 15:00:10 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
-------------Texas’s POV------------
The second the bedroom door clicked, Hayes was peeling off his shirt. He always called himself average — plain bagel, no cream cheese — but as that wiry frame came into view, which made me think of Calvin Klein ads I’d jerked off to in high school. Not average, all I saw were lines I wanted under my hands and in my mouth. His shoulders weren’t broad, but they were smooth and tight under my palms when I stepped in and gripped him. His chest was flat and pale, perfect for pressing my mouth to, feeling the jump of his heartbeat when I licked across his nipple. He shivered and laughed at the same time, already shoving his jeans down, auburn hair falling in his face.
“You’re staring,” he said.
“Yeah,” I answered, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss that shut him up.
His hands were already on my belt, working it open with quick, impatient tugs. He thought I was out of his league. “Texas fucking Eden,” he’d say, like it was something legendary. Captain of the football team, tall, tan, cocky as hell. And, yeah, my dick had a reputation — a locker-room legend Hayes used to sneak glances at before he ever knew the guy attached to it would be the one to take his virginity.
I shrugged my jeans down and kicked them away, letting him see me hard and thick, and his eyes flicked down with that flash of hunger. I grabbed the Santa hat from the dresser and dropped it on my head. “You forgot something,” I said, reaching under into our bag for the reindeer antlers and pushing them toward him.
He rolled his eyes but slid the headband on, the stupid felt antlers tilting slightly as he stepped backward onto the mattress, knees apart, already semi from just the lead-up. “You’re ridiculous,” he said.
“Festive,” I corrected, pulling the tinsel from the box and wrapping it slowly around my hard cock, each loop biting slightly into my skin just enough to make me hiss. His pupils blew wide as he watched it.
I crawled onto the bed between his knees and kissed him again, pressing my body forward until the tinsel pressed scratchy between us. He tasted like him and whatever lip balm he swiped from the bathroom earlier. My hands slid over his stomach — not at all unremarkable like he thought, but just the right softness to grab.
I pushed him back on the pillows, kissing down his chest, leaving a trail of spit that glistened under the lights, until I had his cock in my hand. And his dick… Jesus. I bent lower, taking him into my mouth, tongue dragging under the shaft while my other hand worked him in slow, deep pulls. He called it “average.” I called it my favorite. The way it filled my mouth, my hand, or slid inside me like it belonged there — no one else had ever felt that right.
He groaned low, hips lifting, antlers wobbling against the pillow. I pulled off just long enough to slick my fingers, circling and pressing into his tight hole while I kept stroking him with my other hand. He tightened around my fingers and spread his legs further without me asking, hazel eyes on me with that mix of challenge and need.
“God, you’re perfect like this,” I said, curling my fingers just to make him twitch.
“Then stop teasing and fuck me, Santa.”
I grinned, pulled my fingers free, and pushed forward until the head of my dick nudged against him. I slid in slow, the tight heat making my jaw lock, until I was buried deep inside. His nails dug into my shoulders and he sucked in air through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut.
“Yeah,” I breathed, pulling back and driving in harder this time. The tinsel around my cock made it hard as fuck, pulsing inside of his warm hole every thrust, making me wince and push harder just to feel it.
“More,” he said, gripping my ass to drag me closer.
I set a rhythm, hips snapping forward until the headboard started tapping the wall. My hand slid between us to stroke him in time with each drive in, and he arched up into it, eyes locked on mine.
“Say it,” I told him.
“You’re fucking me so good,” he blurted, voice breaking. “Fill me up, Santa, fuck—”
That was all I needed. I pressed him into the mattress, pounding harder, the bed creaking under us. He twisted the sheets in his fists, his legs trembling around my hips. I tightened my grip on him and he broke, spurting semen over his stomach and my hand, chest heaving-
I didn’t slow, chasing my own peak until I finally I snapped with a hiss into his neck, hips stuttering, holding him tight as my cock filled him with my cum. Pounding into him as the aftershocks ran through us.
We stayed tangled, catching our breath, the room smelling like us and cheap tinsel. Hayes’s chest rose and fell under mine, the antlers still crooked on his head.
I kissed his hair, too content to move. “Water?” I offered half-heartedly.
He yawned. “Later.”
We didn’t bother cleaning up. He curled into my side, his leg hooked over mine, and I left the hat where it was. The lights blinked red, green, red, as we both drifted.
We passed out like that — Santa hat, antlers, tinsel loosely wrapped around my flaccid dick, the whole mess.
◆◆◆
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!
Hayes jolted so hard his antlers cracked the headboard. I shoved the Santa hat out of my eyes, heart pounding, ears ringing.
Then the smell hit — smoke, sharp and real, curling under the door.
We just stared at each other for a beat, wide-eyed, breathing fast.
“Tex…” Hayes said.
