“This body, these fucking muscles…everything about how beautifulyou are just turns me on so fucking much.” I pound even harder.
“I’m seriously not even gonna have to touch it,” he says.
“Don’t then,” I say, gripping onto his hip with my free hand asI lean back and take what’s mine. Give him what’s his.
His triceps and biceps flex as he tightens his hold on theheadboard. With his back arched, all his muscles are contracted, displaying howbeautiful he is. How well he’s sculpted this incredible physique. And it’s allfor me to enjoy right now.
I’m such a lucky bastard.
The pressure in my balls is so intense I feel like I might shootat any moment. “I want to look at you,” I say. “I want to see your face when Icome.”
He shifts, and I slide out. He rolls onto his back. He’s franticlike he’s just as desperate for me to be fucking him missionary as I am. Hegazes up at me, his quick breaths and red face assuring me that I’m not theonly one getting a workout.
I slide back in.
“Fuck the come out of me, Jay!”
I grab his wrists and pull them back behind him, pinning themagainst the pillow as I continue pleasuring myself in his hole. Before I knowit, he’s calling out like some sort of animal. It’s not a sound I’ve heard himmake before. This is feral. I’m freaked out for a moment as I look at him andsee his head twisted to the side as he moans through his teeth, then unleashesa full-fledged scream, his eyes revealing just how intense the experience is.
The pressure in my pelvis pulsates through me, and before I knowit, I am jerking in a wild, violent succession. His eyes go wide, and I lookdown to see him spraying his load across his rock-hard abs, the white semenflowing like a geyser. My own come shoots through me like a bullet, into thecondom. I delight in the sensations that race through my body, sending a hotflash to my face.
My balls tighten like they’re trying to squeeze every last dropout, and despite having come already, my hips continue thrusting like I’m stilltrying to rub one out.
I collapse on top of him, releasing his wrists, not caring aboutthe come that I’m getting all over my belly. Because it’s his, and I want asmuch of it on me as I can get right now.
My cheek pressed against his, I can feel his breath slammingagainst my ear and his sticky sweat on my face. “Oh my God,” he keeps saying,clearly caught up in the power of his own climax.
We kiss with that same wild energy we had when we first hookedup. I don’t think I realized how much we needed that until I’d shot my load.But considering how stressed out he was from today and how much I was aftertalking about my brother, I think we were both desperate for the release thatwe could give each other. And now I crave being close to him in a way I’venever craved before. I want to cling to him.
I’m terrified he’s going to make me pull out because I know howsensitive my prostate gets after I come, but I’m relieved that he doesn’t sayanything. That he just keeps kissing me.
As the high settles, soon we’re just holding onto each other. Wehaven’t gotten up to shower yet. Just stayed wet with our spooge and sweat. Idon’t want it to end. I want to hold on to this for a little longer. Beingcovered in his semen. Being all his.
I lie on my back as he lies on his side, his torso pressedtightly against mine. His gaze travels down my body, and I don’t try to coverup because I can tell that he’s appreciating everything he’s looking at.“Thanks for the great fuck,” he says, a sly smile sweeping across his face.
“Thankyou.”
“And thanks for coming over here tonight. I needed this. Morethan you can know.”
His expression, filled with appreciation and ease, is sowonderful. And again, I find myself imagining that we could be more than justfucking. We already are that. We might not have called this a date, but that’sbasically what it is.
And here I am in his bed—the only place I want to be right now.
“I’m sorry for being such a downer earlier,” I say. “I didn’tmean to make it sound like I’ve had some bleak, miserable experience. I’veobviously had good times with my brother. Great times.”
“I’d like to hear about those.”
I smile.
“No, seriously,” he says.
“Todd was a funny guy. When we’d wake up to go to school, hewould run out and grab the local paper and bring it in so we could read thecomics section together. We each had our favorites, so we’d skip around on thesame page at different places. When one of us found something really funny,we’d make sure the other read it when they were finished with the one they wereon. But Todd was even funnier than some of them. He’d take a pen and re-writesome of the dialogue bubbles, especially on the ones he thought were boring ascrap.
“That’s the kind of guy he was. We didn’t have much, but he knewhow to make me laugh. Even if Dad had gotten mad or started hitting one of us.One time Dad beat him up so much that when I found him crying in his room, Iasked him if he was okay, and he said, ‘It just sucks that he never learned howto throw a punch. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this.’ I knowthat sounds disturbing as fuck, but that’s how we survived. Whenever Dad wouldgo off on one of his tantrums, we’d make jokes about it. One time when I got itbad, I was curled up in bed, and Todd came running in. He was so freaked outand then he was like, ‘What are we gonna do now that Dad found the secretpassage to Narnia?’ And I couldn’t stop laughing after that. He could breakthrough tension like it was made of paper. Just that power he had made all thehard stuff that much easier to deal with.
“One night, we stayed up late watching TV. Dad wasn’t home. Hehad gone out to play cards with some of his friends. That’s what he told usback then, but I think there was a girl because it was kind of regular for awhile. We flipped on this old George Carlin special, and we laughed so hard. Welaughed until we couldn’t breathe. And then Todd got to making jokes off ofCarlin’s jokes, and I fell off the couch, onto the floor. I seriously thought Iwas gonna pass out because I couldn’t get any air in my lungs. And I wascrying. I begged him to stop, but he just kept on, and I was as happy as I evercan remember being. We spent the next few hours laughing and giggling until wepassed out on the couch. That moment…when I think of Todd, what I loved abouthim, that’s what I always go back to. Seeing how happy he was. Remembering howhappy we both were. That for just a few hours, we could escape the shittytrailer we were in, forget about Dad and all the bullshit, and just let go andexperience real joy.”
Tears are in my eyes, but for a moment, it’s because I’m sogoddamn thankful that I got to experience that beautiful moment with him. ThatI was lucky enough to have had that time to appreciate Todd.
