I Took Dick for New Year’s - Part II

Everyone in this story is 18+

This is part two of three in this New Year's Eve special. I hope you enjoy it!

My hand hovered awkwardly for a moment before finally settling on Walker’s bulge. The warmth of his skin, even though the fabric of his jeans, sent an unexpected shiver through me. Slowly, carefully, I moved my hand up, unbuttoning Walker’s jeans and pulling down the zipper with unsteady fingers.

"This is so stupid," I muttered, trying to convince myself I wasn’t feeling the way I was feeling. "You know that, right?"

Walker let out a breathy laugh. "You’re telling me. Just hurry up, man. This thing is killing me."

With a sharp inhale, I slid my hand beneath the waistband of Walker’s boxers, my fingers brushing against hot, hard skin. My breath caught as I felt him for the first time—uncut, the smooth ridge of his foreskin sliding over the firm head as my fingers moved experimentally. His pubes brushed against my knuckles, soft and slightly damp with heat. I had seen it before, sure, but never like this. The only other time I had seen him hard was that fleeting glance in the morning, through his boxers, when he’d shuffled into the bathroom half-hard to piss. But now? Now it was unavoidable, undeniable.

Walker groaned softly, the sound cutting through the quiet room and making my stomach twist in a way I couldn’t quite name. It felt different from touching myself—his cock was firmer, thicker, the weight in my hand strange and thrilling all at once. The heat of it pulsed against my palm, and the contrast to my own was startling, almost disorienting.

"Okay," I said, my voice shaky as I wrapped my fingers more securely around him. I started with slow strokes, my thumb brushing over the sensitive head, spreading the moisture that was already leaking there. "We’re just... solving a problem. That’s all this is."

"Yeah," Walker replied, his voice rougher now, his hips shifting slightly as my hand began to move with more confidence. "Totally just a problem."

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with something unspoken as I focused on the task at hand—literally. I adjusted my grip, using a twisting motion at the base before gliding up, my thumb circling the head again. Walker’s quiet sounds of approval—soft groans and hitched breaths—pushed me to continue, to try harder.

Minutes passed, my hand moving steadily, and I couldn’t help but glance up at Walker’s face. His green eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he sucked in shallow breaths. My stomach flipped again, but I pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the way he was reacting—on the way I was making him react.

"Are you close?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Walker groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "Not really. I mean, it does feel great and all. But I guess the nerves make it hard to nut."

I froze, my hand stilling as I stared at Walker in disbelief. "What do you mean, not really? What else am I supposed to—"

Walker cut me off with a crooked grin, his voice dropping low. "Maybe try using your mouth?"

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, as my breath caught in my throat. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure Walker could hear it.

“Are you fucking mental?” I spat out, my voice sharp and incredulous.

“I mean, is it so bad? It’s just for a moment to make this go away!” he pleaded, gesturing at his rock-hard dick, his expression caught somewhere between desperation and sheepishness.

The air in the room felt charged, heavier than it ever had before. My cheeks burned. His usual cocky grin had softened into something else—something almost nervous—but his green eyes stayed locked on mine, daring me to break first.

“This is insane. I can’t believe I’m…” I started, my voice faltering as the weight of the situation pressed down on me.

Walker interrupted, letting out a breathy chuckle. “So you will? I mean, dude, you’ve already got your hand on my dick. Are you seriously drawing the line here?”

I scowled, heat surging to my face. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean anything. We’re just fixing your dumb mistake,” I said, my tone firm even as my knees hit the floor. I knelt between Walker’s knees, staring sternly up at him, trying to ignore the way my heart raced and my stomach twisted in a confusing mix of emotions.

Walker didn’t reply, his grin fading as I hesitated for just a moment longer before leaning forward. My lips brushed against the tip of his cock, and the reality of what I was about to do hit me like a freight train. It was hot, smooth, and already slick, the faint taste of salt and musk filling my mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep going.

Just a problem, I told myself. Just solving a stupid problem.

"Sorry, again," Walker murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Just... keep going, please."

I did, trying to ignore the sheer absurdity of the situation—or the heat pooling low in my stomach. His cock felt different from mine, heavier, thicker, and the way it pulsed against my tongue did feel like I did something right. I moved cautiously at first, unsure, my inexperience obvious, but Walker didn’t seem to care.

His soft groans slipped through the quiet room, growing louder with every hesitant flick of my tongue. My hand wrapped around the base, adding slow, twisting strokes as my mouth worked over the head. I could feel the dampness of his pubes brushing against my knuckles, grounding me in the moment even as my mind spun.

Every noise Walker made sent another jolt of heat through me. I hated how satisfying it was to feel him react, to know that I was the one making him come apart like this. My own confusion tangled with that strange satisfaction, my chest tightening as I pushed myself to do better, to see just how far I could take him.

But at the same time this needed to end. I slid my free hand lower, cupping him gently and letting my fingers explore the softness of his skin. I started to massage his balls with slow, deliberate movements, feeling the weight and warmth of them in my palm. Walker’s reaction was immediate—a low, drawn-out moan that sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

The sound only spurred me on. His breathing grew heavier, his thighs tensing slightly as I worked both my hands together, each movement drawing another groan or sharp intake of breath. The intensity in his voice, the way he surrendered so completely to what I was doing, made my chest ache in ways I didn’t understand.

And then, without warning, Walker let out a sharp gasp. The next moment, warmth spilled into my mouth—hot, salty, and overwhelming. The taste was an strange mix of faint bitterness, a bit sweet but mostly salt, unfamiliar and impossible to ignore. My first instinct was to pull back, but something stopped me. The sheer shock of it, maybe, or the way my body seemed rooted in place. My tongue flicked against the slickness involuntarily, and I swallowed instinctively before my mind caught up with what had just happened.

Despite the suddenness, I didn’t move away immediately. I stayed there, frozen, trying to process the flood of sensations—the heat, the weight of the moment, and the faintest tremor in Walker’s thighs. The realization of what I was doing hit me like a brick, and I finally pulled back, my breath uneven, my head spinning.

Coughing slightly, I glared up at him. Without thinking, I leaned forward and spit the remainder back onto his cock, the slick warmth pooling against his skin. Walker looked down, his lips quirking into that annoyingly smug grin of his, as if he found the whole situation hilarious.

“Fuck you! You could’ve warned me,” I snapped, my voice shaky but sharp. My cheeks burned, and my throat felt raw, but I couldn’t shake the strange buzz still thrumming in my stomach.

Walker chuckled, leaning back casually as if we hadn’t just shattered almost every boundary imaginable. “Didn’t think you’d actually stay there,” he said, his tone playful but his breath still unsteady.

I scowled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand again. The heat in my chest refused to fade, leaving me feeling tangled in a mix of irritation and something far more confusing.

I rolled my eyes, I strongly decided I regretted everything. "Yeah, well, I hope you learned your—" I stopped mid-sentence, my gaze dropping to his lap. My stomach twisted. "Are you kidding me?"

Walker glanced down, his grin faltering when he saw the problem still very much present. "No way," he muttered, sitting up straighter. "It’s still... shit."

I threw my hands up. "What now? I’m out of ideas."

“I don’t know! It’s still up,” Walker said, his voice filled with disbelief. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Great. That’s just great. Now what?” I snapped, my patience fraying by the second. My mind raced with a mix of irritation, embarrassment, and something I wasn’t ready to name—curiosity, maybe? Or fascination? Either way, I shoved the thought aside.

Walker rubbed the back of his neck, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be found. “I mean... do you have any lube in your nightstand?”

I froze, staring at him like he’d just grown a second head. “What?”

Walker shrugged, his tone casual but his cheeks slightly flushed. “We’ve already come this far.”

My jaw dropped, and for a moment, I couldn’t form words. Then, throwing my hands in the air, I exploded. “For fuck’s sake, Walker! If you ever tell anybody about this—”

“I won’t,” Walker cut in, his grin creeping back. “Scout’s honor.”

I glared at him, my chest heaving with equal parts frustration and something else I couldn’t quite name. The sheer absurdity of the situation crashed down on me, rooting my feet to the floor. My eyes flicked down to the still-present issue in his lap, and heat surged up my neck. This was going to be a long evening.