His hand snakes up around my neck, pulling me in for a wildly passionate kiss. I’m no mind reader, but this kiss tells me everything I need to know. He wants to get lost, to feel something, and he wants me to be the one to give it to him. Blindly, he reaches over to the nightstand, and pulls out a bottle of lube and a condom. His lips fall away from mine, but he holds my face in his hands, making sure I don’t look away as he speaks. “I want you to make walking impossible tomorrow.”
I try to stop it, but even in my current state of crazy, lusty need, the bubble of laughter that fills my chest escapes past my lips. “What’s the matter? Don’t think you can do that?” he prods, egging me on and silencing my laughter.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” My response silences him. I release his wrist, and, with more deftness than he had before, he unclasps my jeans and begins to shove them down my hips.
To make things easier – and in turn, to get inside of him more quickly – I stand from the bed and lose the pants. Dylan’s mouth wraps around my cock before I can even reach for the condom and lube. The sight of him propped up on one elbow, with the other hand wrapped around the base of my dick as he nearly swallows me whole is almost more than I can take. The wet heat of his mouth, the searing fire in his eyes, the branding roughness of his touch almost makes me melt into the floor. His too-long hair begs to be tugged, pulled at its ends. “So good…so fucking good.” The beat of my words matches the pace of his tongue swirling up and down every inch I have to offer him.
When I’m seconds away from coming down his throat, I pull away, pushing him down onto the mattress. As I roll the condom on and lube up, Dylan situates himself on his hands and knees. I trace my fingertip down his spine, over his crack, probing ever so softly at his ass. His eyes roll back as he looks at me over his shoulder.
“From the minute I first saw you, I wanted you,” I moan against his skin. I plant a trail of kisses along the path my finger just traveled, dripping some lube on my finger. “Lean forward.” My command is obeyed instantly.
With his head buried against the pillows and his arms slack at his sides, he looks like an offering from the Gods. His moans are nothing more than muffled noises as I spread him wide. “Don’t make me beg, Con.” He twists his head to the side, making sure his words aren’t misheard.
With my fingertip poised against the tight ring of muscle of his ass, I press forward, the motion barely perceptible. “What if I want you to beg?” I push forward the tiniest bit. “What if I want you to writhe and squirm, screaming my name for more?” He pushes back against my finger, but I retreat, wanting control over what I know he’s feeling.
We play cat and mouse for what feels like an eternity. He pushes back; I pull away. I give him a centimeter; he wants an inch. Just like I’d planned, he gives way first. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just …God… please touch me, fuck me, do anything to me, make me feel something.” The last plea trembles and shakes as it falls from his mouth – the honest desire in those words makes me relent.
Instinctually, he pushes down onto my fingers as I press them forward, nearly sitting on them as I scissor them opened and closed. “Ahhhh…” Dylan’s voice reverberates off the walls, bouncing around us like a symphony of pleasure.
Over the latex surface, I stroke myself once more, needing more than just the feel of my own hand. The crown of my cock rests in his stretched opening, teasing, tempting. This time, when he leans back onto me, I don’t stop him. “Take it, Dylan.” I hook my arm around his hips and drag him onto me, pushing forward, fucking him hard at the same time.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, sliding into and out of his body. I lose myself in the tight heat of his body. Unrelenting, with no end in sight, I drive into him over and over, my name falling from his lips, and his from mine. He props himself up slightly, giving me the room to reach around and stroke his rock hard dick at the same pace I pound into him.
A mindless feverishness takes over and my body moves on its own accord. What was once a measured and calculated thrust is now erratic and frantic. “Holy fuck… Ahhhh…” Tiny pulses of his asshole squeezing me as I glide in and out of him push me over the edge. “Fuck…Dylan… oh, fuck! I’m coming…”
He pumps into my hand, his backward thrusts drawing my own orgasm out of me as I thrust into him one final time. The room fills with the sound and smell of sex. Sweat covers our bodies, making our skin slick as I collapse on Dylan’s back.
With his cock still in my hand, begging for release from his pending orgasm, we lay there for a minute as I catch my breath. The need to have him back in my mouth is overwhelming, though it wars with my need to stay inside of him.
My hunger wins out over my desire.
With one quick move, Dylan is on his back, spread before me, making my mouth water. I don’t allow him anytime to say or do anything. His dick is hitting the back of my throat before he can even register what’s going on. Working his shaft with my hand, I let him fuck my mouth, his hips gyrating against my face with unparalleled need. Sliding my other hand under his ass, I hold him fast to my face, nearly gagging on his length. My still-slick fingers find their way back to his hole, easily sliding back inside. With one subtle swipe against his gland, his dick grows in my mouth, the salty tang of him coating my tongue. “Pull away, Conner. I’m coming,” he grits out past his clenched jaw.
I let my tongue glide back and forth against the veined ridges of the underside of his cock as I shake my head, dismissing his concerns of coming in my mouth. My fingers fuck him harder as my mouth sucks him deeper. A loud growl of a moan fills the small room as he shoots rope after rope of hot, salty cum down my throat. My own cock twitches to life as the tanginess of his orgasm fills my mouth. “Ahhh…my God… fuck…” he pushes himself down into my throat on one last, powerful thrust, cupping the side of my face with a rough hand as he does so.
When the final pulses of his orgasm recede, we roll to our sides, facing each other, breathlessly staring into each other’s sated faces. His hand is still on my face. He tenderly strokes the pad of his thumb along my swollen lower lip. With more passion and emotion than I ever expected, Dylan whispers his lips against mine, before taking my mouth in an all-consuming kiss.
It’s one from which I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.
With his forehead leaning against mine, his lips curl into a satisfied smile before planting one final kiss to my mouth.
“Dinner?”
As if on cue, my stomach grumbles. “Yeah, who would have known it would take that much energy to make someone lose the ability to walk for a week.”
Our joined laughter is amplified by the closeness of our chests. “It was worth it,” he declares, hooking his leg around mine, pulling me even closer to him.
A verbal response is not necessary, as I pull him into my arms and let my kiss do all the talking for me.
Quietly, and with a permanent smile plastered to our faces, we get dressed and make our way back into the living room. We were so quick to attack one another that the food is still hot. After making up our plates, I grab the DVD from the table and we settle on the couch.
I toss the movie into his lap as he asks, “What did you bring?”
Folding my legs under my body, and leaning against the arm of the couch, I already feel comfortable in his home. I shrug, pointing at the movie, indicating he should turn it over and see for himself.
“Are you kidding?” he snickers.
“What?” I mumble around a mouth of food. “You said it was a good movie.”
