I’m panting now, sweat beading on my forehead, my hips shifting in a counter-rhythm to his hand, trying to get him deeper. He adds a second finger, and it burns a little, but it’s a good burn, a burn that hints at what’s coming next. Chase is patient, taking his time, scissoring his fingers, opening me up,preparing me. And all the while he’s talking to me in that low, gravelly voice, telling me how good I’m taking it, how much he’s going to enjoy fucking me, how tight my ass is going to feel around his cock.
This must be how he talks to his teammates on the field. Not these words, obviously—that would be weird—but the tone: a mix of praise and commands that makes you want to push yourself, to prove yourself. He’s coaching me through this. And I’m a willing student, eager to learn, to please, to do whatever he asks of me.
By the time he adds a third finger, I’m a writhing, desperate mess. The burn has faded, replaced by an all-consuming need. I’m so hard it hurts, and my dick is leaking so much I’m worried I’ll come before he even gets inside me.
“I think you’re ready.” He pulls his fingers out, leaving me feeling achingly empty.
I open my eyes, and he’s hovering over me, the muscles in his arms bulging as he holds himself above me. He’s got this intense, focused look in his dark eyes, and for the first time, I see a flicker of something else there, something that looks a lot like vulnerability. I realize he’s just as nervous as I am, just as caught up in this crazy, whirlwind thing, too.
That’s what pushes the words out of me. What makes me spread my legs wider, look him straight in the eye, and say, “Fuck me, Chase. Put that big cock in me and fuck me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. I watch, my breath held tight in my chest, as he slicks up his latex-covered cock, the lube making it gleam in the dim light. He positions himself at my entrance, and the broad head of his dick nudges against the loosened muscle. He starts to push, and the burn is back, sharper this time, more intense. I grit my teeth, my hands fisting the sheets.
“Look at me,” he commands, and my eyes fly to his. “Breathe, Finn. Let me in.”
I do as he says. I take a deep breath, and as I exhale, I consciously relax my body. I feel myself opening for him, yielding to the insistent pressure. There’s a moment of sharp, intense pain, a stretching sensation, and then he’s in, the head of his cock breaching the ring of muscle and seating itself inside me.
We both let out a long, shuddering “fffffuccccck” at the exact same time.
I’m so full. So utterly full. He stays still for a moment, letting me adjust, and I use the time to catalog this new, overwhelming sensation. It’s a mix of pain and pleasure, of discomfort and deep satisfaction. I can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, every beat of his pulse. It’s intimate in a way I’ve never felt with girls, this feeling of being penetrated, of having another person’s body inside yours.
My head spins, and I blink up at him, dazed. He looks wild, his eyes dark and his hair mussed, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. I can tell he wants to move, wants to plunge himself deeper into my body, but he holds himself in check, waiting for me.
That control, that consideration for me, is what undoes me completely. I reach up, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck, and pull him down for a kiss. Our mouths crash together, and the kiss is clumsy, desperate, a clash of teeth and tongues. It’s not like the performance earlier. There’s no audience. This is just for us.
I wrap my legs around him, digging my heels into the small of his back. “More,” I gasp against his lips. “Give me more.”
And with his tongue still in my mouth, he does.
He pushes forward, sinking into me in one long, slow slide that feels like it lasts a lifetime. The burn is intense, a fiery line ofheat that follows the path of his cock, but beneath it is the slow bloom of that spot, that magical, secret place he found with his fingers. He hits it on the way in, and my whole body convulses when he does. My eyes roll back in my head.
The rest of my body goes limp. All the fight, all the tension, all the resistance drains out of me, replaced by a bone-deep pleasure. I’m a ragdoll in his arms, pliant, yielding, completely at his mercy. I don’t have a single thought in my head beyondmore.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Feel that, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice a low, guttural rumble. He grinds his hips in a slow circle, and the friction against that spot makes my toes curl. “That’s my cock. Right there. All the way inside you.”
He’s right. He’s all the way in. I can feel the hair on his balls tickling my ass, the hard muscles of his thighs pressed against the backs of mine. We’re flush against each other, joined in the most intimate way possible. I can feel his heart thudding against my chest, a fast, frantic beat that matches my own.
“I told you, Chase, I’m an overachiever.” The words come out in a breathy whisper. “I take my role very seriously.”
A feral grin spreads across Chase’s face. “Oh, I know you do. And I’m gonna reward you for your dedication.” He pulls out, almost all the way, until just the tip of his cock is still inside me, the emptiness a sudden, hollow ache. Then he drives back in, hard and fast, hitting that spot with bruising force.
I cry out, my hands flying to his back, my nails digging into the sweat-slick skin.
“Like that, hmm?” he asks, pulling out and slamming back in again. “Is that the kind of reward you were looking for?”
“Yes,” I moan, the word torn from my throat. “God, yes.”
He sets a punishing pace, fucking me with deep, powerful strokes that steal the air from my lungs. There’s no finesse, nogentleness. He’s taking what he wants, and I’m giving it to him, willingly, eagerly. Like the twink in the locker room, like the elf against the Christmas tree, like the bottom in the pristine kitchen. I’m one of them now. A guy who takes cock. A guy who gets fucked.
And I love it. I abso-fucking-lutely love it.
I’m so hard I could hammer a nail with my dick, and it’s trapped between our bodies, rubbing against his hard stomach with every thrust. I wrap my legs tighter around him, hooking my ankles together behind his back, giving myself over to the sensation. I’m no longer in control. I’m a passenger on this ride, and he’s driving.
It’s amazing how fast the human body can adjust. The burn has faded completely, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that radiates out from my core, flooding my entire body. My vision is blurry, my ears are ringing, and all I can do is feel. Feel the thick, hard length of him moving inside me, feel the stretch and fill, feel the delicious friction.
The bed is creaking in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust. I’m vaguely aware that someone in the next room is probably going to file a noise complaint, but I can’t bring myself to care. Let them complain. Let the whole building know. Let the whole fucking campus know.
“You’re so tight, Finn,” he grunts, his breath hot against my ear. “You feel sofuckinggood.”
