I don’t have to take it easy on him. James and I have fucked each other every which way and know each other’s turn-ons and limits, as well as our own.
I thrust, hitting the back of his throat and only feel his fingers dig into my ass, urging me on.
“That’s right. Take me,” I grit out, thrusting again. I’m not going to come like this. I need to fuck him. But I do love his mouth. He looks so beautiful on his knees for me, sucking and licking and wanting me this way.
James could have anyone. Male or female. He’s not only gorgeous, with his always slightly mussed hair, his sweet warm green eyes, his easy smile, and all of those chiseled gymnast muscles, but he’s charming as hell and such a genuinely nice guy, no one can resist him.
I’m a good guy too. I know that. I’m not bad to look at either, or so I’ve been told. But I remember being amazed that our first date actually ended in the bedroom, and that he called me first the day after.
I also remember thinking,don’t let him get away.
I didn’t.
I don’t intend to.
I’d do anything for this man.
I thrust three more times, then drop to my knees in front of him and kiss him deeply. My tongue fucks his as I grip his head in both of my hands.
I lean back, resting my forehead on his. “I love you so damned much.”
“Easy to say when you’re about ten seconds from coming,” he says breathlessly.
I laugh. “Always easy to say. But yes, I’m feelingveryfond of you at the moment. Get up.”
We stand and I turn him, bending him over so he has to brace his hands on the bed. I run my hands up and down his back, then around his sides and over his abs.
“What do you want?” I ask. “I’m going to take your ass. Do you want to come first, during, or after?”
He takes my hand and pulls it around to his cock. I grip him, stroking up and down. He groans. “Yes. That. Fuck me and jerk me off.”
“Jesus. Gladly.” I reach into our bedside table and grab the lube, flipping the top open with my thumb and squeezing a generous portion out.
I knead his ass—getting him ready—he presses back against me.
“Cas, stop playing.”
“Greedy,” I chide lightly. “I love when you get impatient for my cock.”
“I’m always impatient for your cock.”
I give his a squeeze and a long, firm stroke. “That’s the right thing to say.” I take my cock in hand, stroking with the same pace I’m giving him.
His head drops forward, hanging as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, yes.”
I stroke him faster and press against his backside, gripping his hip.
I love the way his shoulder muscles bunch as he braces himself, pushing back against me. His back muscles are like carved marble. I love just looking at him, running my hands over him, watching them flex as we fuck, but even as he works out, or fixes something around the house, or plays with our son.
I press forward, easing into him, relishing his ragged, “Fuck.”
The feel of him gripping my cock is, as always, heaven. “James,” I grit out.
“Fuck me, Cas.”
“Gladly.” I pull back and press back in, continuing to stroke his cock. “Just don’t wake the baby when I make you come so good.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice is tight, and I know he’s getting close.
