In Between Days: Raising Jordan (boyxman)✅

Personal Jesus

Jamie

Jordan held on to my shoulders, staring down at me while I stared up at him, my lips at the base of his cock. His eyes grew wider and wider as my tongue circled the tip. He swallowed hard, his stomach subtly heaving in and out. His hands moved to the back of my head, gently encouraging me to get closer, wanting his cock in my mouth. Jordan assured me Tim would be gone for at least an hour, but I was still paranoid he'd show up any minute and catch me sucking his little brother's dick.

"It's okay," he said, sensing my hesitation. "Come on. Please?" I didn't need anymore convincing. He inhaled deeply as I took him in my mouth. "I love it so much," he said, stroking the back of my head. But, after a few minutes, he pulled away and got down on his knees.

"Wait, Jordan," I said as he unzipped my shorts. "You don't have to. We don't have much..." I was going to say "time," but it was too late; Jordan's lips were already on my cock. After a few seconds, just when he was getting a good rhythm, he stopped, looking up at me.

"What's your favorite Depeche Mode song?" he asked.

"What?" I said, trying not to sound too pissed off that he stopped to ask this question.

"Your favorite Depeche Mode song?"

I could honestly say that I'd definitely never met anyone like Jordan before. He was fun, fascinating, and so annoying at times...like now.

"Just Can't Get Enough," I said.

"What?" he said in disbelief, a mixture of shock and disgust on his face. "That's crap."

"Oh yeah?" I said with a laugh. "What's yours?"

"Personal Jesus," he said.

"Interesting," I said.

"Have you heard the Johnny Cash version?"

"No," I said. Much to my disappointment, (because all I wanted was for him to continue to do what he was doing), he stood up and went to my phone. "How do you know about Johnny Cash?"

"My dad," he said. Making myself more comfortable, I scooted back on the bed, kicking off my shorts as Jordan searched YouTube. He quickly found what he was looking for and the bluesy distinct country sound of Johnny Cash singing Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus sounded. He placed my phone back on the nightstand and knelt on the bed beside me.

"Tim could show up any minute," I said.

"No, we have time," he said, his hand roaming down my chest and stomach and further down, eventually running a finger up the shaft and around and around the tip. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into my lap. "What do you think this song is about?" he asked, lathering my cock with lube at the same time. 

"I don't know," I said, not really listening to the song, only thinking of one thing. If hell existed, I really felt like that's where I was headed.

"Do you believe in Jesus?" he asked.

"No," I said, wondering what the hell prompted all this questioning.

"I don't know if I do," he said. "You know, I think this song is about being Jesus for someone else. I mean, someone else's savior." If I wasn't thinking about Jordan and him pushing down on me, I would have been up for this type of intellectual conversation. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, pressing his hands against my chest for support.