BEFORE YOU READ: I am so so so so so sorry for this. I just shad an idea and didn't have any other situation I could apply it to. If Mark for whatever reason ever reads this, I am so sorry. Anyway, for those of you who haven't run away, here's your story!
"Maaaaark," You drawl lazily, tracing slow circles on his knees. "I'm booooored, hurry uuuuuuup." His foot comes up and kicks you lightly in the ribs, which only tickles slightly. You shrink backwards with a snort, watching as he rolls his eyes and continues his commentary on his current episode of whatever-he-was-currently-recording with Bob and Wade. He's always so poised in front of the camera. You muse to yourself, the devilish sir of your personality creeping up. I wonder what he looks like all hot and bothered. Grinning, you crawl forward on all fours until your face is buried in his crotch. For a moment, he goes rigid.
"What the-" He shakes his head, returning his attention to the screen. That is, until you nuzzle against him and inhale deeply. He yelps sharply, but returns once again to his game. Now a bit irritated, you find his zipper with your teeth and pull it down, hearing him swallow in either fear or anticipation. Your hands come up and work his jeans and underwear partially down his well-formed hips.
Finding your prize, you lean forwards and take him into your mouth. He inhales sharply, the unfamiliar sensation rattling him from his usually very poised composure. He glares down at you from behind loose raven bangs, eyes already clouding over with arousal. Smirking in response to his silent question, you dip your head once again and, without warning, wrap your tongue around the base of his cock. A strangled gasp works its way out of his throat, stifled at the last moment by a hand slapped over his mouth. Unfortunately . . .
"Mark? Everything okay?" Wade's voice filters through the computer speakers. It seems to remind Mark that he, Wade, and Bob were still recording the episode of Prop Hunt, and that people would see it. Straightening up and clearing his throat, Mark attempts to carry on without giving anything away. He resumes his commentary as if nothing had happened. You decide to change that. Mark's eyes scan the screen, picking up random objects in the game and throwing them around. He grins evilly and begins to talk-sing.
"I'm gonna find ya . . . one way or another, I'm go-" He cuts himself off again when a deep-throated moan bubbles up as you move your lips up and down the rapidly hardening shaft, stopping every now and then to suck roughly at the beads of pre-cum beading at the head. This time, Mark didn't go straight back to his commentary. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, which inadvertently slides his jeans further down his legs. You decide to take advantage of that, running your hands all over the flesh of his inner thighs as you continue to suck. Eventually, you begin to scrape your nails against the underside of his length, drawing whimpers and moans from him that were barely stifled by the hand covering his mouth. Sensing his poise weakening you increase the intensity of the sucks, taking the member out of your mouth and licking at the slit from time to time. Mark's entire body trembles with self-restraint, his teeth sunken so deeply into the flesh of his hand they draw blood.
Now, to go in for the kill. You gloat mentally. In that same instant, you lean forward and very nearly swallow Mark's cock, taking the organ so deep that it hits the back of your throat. The hand Mark was biting down on vanishes as he nearly screams in pleasure at the wet heat that completely engulfs him. Now desperately clutching at the arms of his chair, he trembles, mewling and moaning softly as your ministrations continue. Your hands stroke the part of Mark's member that you couldn't fit into you mouth, teasingly caressing the sensitive skin. Moments after the added stimulation, his toes curl into the carpet below, hips twitching involuntarily up into your mouth.
"Mm . . . hah . . . hah-ah! AH! Agh!" He throws his head back in ecstasy, crying out as he finally cums down your throat. You attempt to swallow, but there's too much of it, and most of it ends up oozing down your chin from the corners of your lips. You instinctively reach for the box of tissues sitting next to Mark on his desk, withdrawing your mouth from his flaccid cock and wiping the excess stuff off of your face. Once that is taken care of, you glance up at Mark and grin triumphantly at the sight. He is slumped back in his chair, breathing in ragged pants, eyes half-lidded and flushed crimson with sweat trickling down his face. After a few moments, he gathers himself and glares half-heartedly down at you.
"And what . . . was that for?" You shrug, still smirking.
"Oh, I just wanted to . . . embarrass you." The smirk becomes a grin as you motion at his computer and other equipment. Judging by the look on his face, he had forgotten all about it.
"Wait . . . Bob, Wade. Was the . . . " He trails off in his question, eyes falling on the blinking red button signaling that yes, it had been recording the entire time. If possible, Mark's face flushes even darker. He glances into his webcam, where the faces of Bob and Wade stare, dumbfounded, at their friend. Both of them snap out of their stupor as Mark clears his throat and readjusts his glasses.
"You guys'll ah . . . cut that out of your videos, right?"
Later that week, in the comments of lordminion777's newest Prop Hunt video . . .
FangurlzUnite: ZOMG did you see Mark's face starting at 13:42?! It's like someone's sucking him off!
I'm very sorry for this *bows* This is an idea I had one day and . . . I'm really sorry. Don't flame me, I hate hot things . . . like a cat.