He gave a shaky laugh. “Not too much. Don’t make it too easy on me. I—I like it tight.”
I wrapped him even closer with my other arm, my cock nestling under the curve of his right asscheek. “I’ll take good care of you.”
He relaxed at my words, gave a little hum as I rubbed over his hole. I wanted to spend hours doing that alone, playing with his hot, accepting asshole that slowly opened up for me. But he grew impatient, and so did I. When he said, “I’m good,” I didn’t try to talk him out of it.
I withdrew my fingers, kissed his shoulder. “How do you want it?”
“I’m a classic kinda guy.” With that, he flopped over onto his hands and knees. “What, you don’t like it this way?” He actually batted his eyelashes at me.
“Like it that way? Christ, kid. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold on till I even getinyou if that’s the view.”
“Oh? We can change it up if you—”
“Stay right there,” I told him firmly. I got off the bed altogether, wiped my hands clean, and walked around him to the foot of the bed to let my eyes roam. He was spread out for me, his ass wide, his hole glistening with lube. I stroked myself a few times and then climbed up behind him. “You look so good like this, I might have to keep you on your hands and knees for the rest of our time here. Tie you up, maybe, to make sure you keep those knees spread wide.”
He let out a groan and his upper body collapsed lower onto the bed, shifting his hips even higher. “Come on,” he gritted out. “Please, Angelo.”
“You want it?”
“Yeah, fuck,yes, please. Come on.”
I slid on the condom and stroked more lube up and down my shaft with one hand, pressing the pad of my thumb against his hole with the other. He was still warm despite the cool air, his asshole puffy, swallowing my thumb up to the first knuckle with no resistance. “Ask me again.” I lined myself up as he babbled.
“Please fuck me, come on, please—oh.” I silenced him as I pressed my crown into him slowly, letting him adjust, though he didn’t need or want the time. No, he just pushed back with his hips, impatient, and I slid in deep in a split-second, his balls pressing against mine, his ass pulsing around me.
I grabbed his hips to stop him moving, because he was already trying to fuck himself on me. “Give me a minute,” I muttered through clenched teeth, as thoughIwere the randy twenty-something, ready to blast as soon as I impaled him.
“Please,” he whimpered after a moment. He’d been jacking himself the whole time, his nuts quivering and dancing against mine, making me chew the inside of my cheek as I fought for self-control. I let my hands wander from his hips to his ass, squeezing at the muscles, then down his back, pushing him into the bed.
I had a rush of vicious desire for him even though I was already in him, like I didn’t know whether to kiss him or kill him, but either way I’d make himmine. I bent forward, grabbed his hair in my hand—but he made a plaintive noise and I filled with tenderness just as quickly.
Why brutalize when I could make him beg for my kindness?
I relaxed my fingers, carded them through his hair, and closed my eyes to revel in the feel of him. He was hot, even through the latex, hot and clutching. I kissed down his back, and then I shifted position, mounted him, started to move. He let out a moan as I pulled out from his ass and plunged back in, his tight little ring clenching as I started to fuck him, smooth and slow.
I pushed through the first fear of coming too soon, letting the rhythm become familiar until I felt like I could fuck like that forever, watching his muscular back writhing under my hand, watching my cock disappearing into his sweet little asshole, watching his face, pressed sideways on the sheets, slack and dazed.
I wanted more, though. It felt too anonymous like this, and I pulled out, ignoring his protest. “Turn over,” I told him gruffly. “Please,” I added, and then tried his own trick of telling him exactly what I wanted. “I need to see your face when I come.”
He threw himself over onto his back eagerly, lifting up his legs high so I could plunge back in straight away, wriggling around and raising his hips so I could thrust deep. I lay myself down on him, my left arm under his knee to keep him open, and I slid the other under his head, lifting his mouth to mine.
My orgasm came suddenly but with a sense of inevitability, like it wasmeantto happen while I stared into his amber eyes, his legs wrapped around my waist and urging me through a long, sweet climax. And then I pulled out of him carefully, threw the condom aside, and moved down to plunge my face between his cheeks. I writhed my tongue deep into his open ass in an act I’d always wanted to try, but had never dared before. He gave a choked-off cry of pleasure as I ate him, as I soothed the place I’d hammered into.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna nut,” he declared. I stopped what I was doing, pulled his cock out of his busy hand, and sucked him down as he exploded, drowning myself in splash after splash of his musky cum.
Afterwards I crawled up the bed to him and he pulled my mouth unabashedly to his, despite where it had just been, and we shared a sloppy, exhausted kiss. “You’re fucking amazing,” he murmured.
“You, too,” I said, collapsing on my side next to him. With the pad of my forefinger, I traced his profile, and he closed his eyes and smiled in pleasure.
Smiled.
Like what we’d just done was the most natural and enjoyable thing in the world.
Inside me, something was beginning to crumble. A two-decade wall built up of lies and contempt, of self-deceit, of self-hatred at what I was.
WhoI was.
I’d built up an expert system of barriers and roadblocks over the years in myself, to make sure I didn’t think too long or too hard about the things I shouldn’t. The things that could undo me. But Baxter Flynn hadn’t seemed to notice. Hadn’t even climbed over all those obstacles—he’d just walked right through them like they didn’t exist, swanned into the most private parts of my soul, and made himself at home.
