“Fuck me, Bill. Feels so good. Love you inside me.”
“I can’t wait to watch you come.”
His skin flushes with color. His nipples are two bullets set to shoot. I flick a thumb over each nub making Tate scream out louder. The sound of my cock pounding his ass fills the room.
“Play with yourself,” I tell him.
Tate strokes his stick straight cock. He bites his lip holding back his orgasm. I smooth a hand down the soft skin of his pale inner thigh.
“Give it to me. Want it so bad,” he whines.
“Yeah you do.”
I pull out and push two fingers inside him to feel how hot and clenched he is for me. Tate is letting me play him like an instrument. There’s a rhythm with him that I haven’t felt with other sexual partners. Most times, sex can be awkward as we try to figure out each other. But Tate and I are in sync from the beginning. Maybe it’s two years of working together, but there’s an instant comfort and trust that makes this that much more enjoyable.
I press my cock back inside him, waves of pleasure hitting me as I sink into his hole. I caress his cheek and kiss him again, traces of my bitter pre-come still on his tongue. Our eyes find each other. I don’t look away. I lock into this moment.
I’ve pushed down my feelings for Tate for too long. For one night only, for one great and glorious fuck, I let them come out. I imagine how great it can be to make him mine every single day. I promised myself I wouldn’t get into a relationship with anyone after the hell I grew up in and the way history repeated with my first marriage. But a guy can pretend.
Tate’s not the only one living out a fantasy tonight.
I hug his leg to my chest and fuck him harder. Tate yells out my name. It hangs on his lips like a prayer.
“You’re so beautiful, babe.”
His eyes somehow find a way to get even bigger and moonier.
“Make me come, Bill.”
I shake my head no. “We still have more of this suite to explore.”
“Huh?” He says, out of breath.
“You wanted a fantasy, smart guy. I’m going to give it to you.”
6
TATE
Before I can ask what he has in store for me, I’m being lifted off the couch. My legs straddle his waist. Bill’s cock is still inside of me, impressively. Even more impressive is when he reaches down to grab the lube. He walks us over to the kitchen and pulls out. My body instantly craves him inside me again, like a part of myself is missing.
“Turn around and bend over the counter,” Bill says. Sweat dampens the tips of his hair, glistens in his beard.
The suite’s kitchen is small with minimal counter space and nicer appliances than in my apartment. My flaming skin hits the cool marble countertop. My ass tingles in the air, waiting for Bill. He spits on my hole and slaps my ass, commanding my body as he should.
He applies more lube to my opening before pressing inside. It’s a new angle and new sensation. His cock lights up new pleasure centers. I feel him go deeper, fully taking over me.
“Yes. Fuck yes,” I wail. My vocabulary is blinded by dick.
Bill massages my neck and back as he fucks me, same as he did on the couch. I don’t know which feels better, his hands or his dick in my ass. The care and consideration touches me. Despite this being just sex, he’s treating me with the same respect as he does in the office. He’s a good man.
A man I could love.
If I were a person who did love and relationships. Which I am not. Penetration, not romantication.
“You’re so tight for me, smart guy.”
Each time he calls me smart guy, my cock juts in approval.
