“What—?” Chris’s eyes widened, and he froze. “Do I need one?”
Marc leaned forward, lips brushing his ear as he slowed down. “You said ‘bend me over however the fuck you want’, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He trapped his earlobe between his teeth and pulled, smirking at him when he straightened again. “Safe word?”
“I-I… don’t know.”
“Okay…” He let out a hard puff of air through his nose as he sped up. “Yellow, if you need me to go easier on you.” He panted. “Red, if you want me to stop. Is that clear?”
“Y-yeah… clear, colors,” the guitarist repeated, gasping before his eyes rolled back when Marc drove into him. “Oh, fuck!”
One of his friend’s legs hit the mattress as he wrapped a hand around his throat. Chris slightly panicked, tensing as his gaze returned to him, nervously searching for some sort of reassurance.
“You’ll tell me if it’s too much,” Marc rasped. “You have the control here, okay?”
Chris swallowed hard, and the movement of his Adam’s apple under the bassist’s palm shot through his system like fire at will. He was done with warm-ups.
Securing his stance on his other arm and his knees, the bassist continued thrusting into him. Normally he would slam into his ass with no restraints, but it was Chris’s first time, and he didn’t want to hurt him. Instead, he focused on the dangerous game they had going on.
Some people thought breath play wasn’t that big of a deal, yet it was one of those kinks where the slightest thing gone wrong could cause irreversible damage. The level of trust and experience required to not screw up was staggering. Which was also why he was so pumped right now. Chris might have been hesitant about the idea of having sex with Marc at first. He had fought him for dominance every time they had been together. He had definitely shown a dash of fear when he’d asked if he could choke him. Even so, he had blindly entrusted him with his well-being.
His grip on Chris’s neck tightened in a steady cadence of gentle squeezes as they dived through the explosion of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins. A cocktail that in his friend’s case was probably already mixed with lightheadedness, as his face had turned a soft shade of red. Marc could feel his carotid fighting through the pinch, forcing his eyes back into his head.
They panted, groaned, and never fucking stopped, pushing each other towards their impending release.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” Marc let his hand slide to the side of his friend’s neck when he clenched the other around his throat, too.
Chris tried to respond, yet he couldn’t. Although physically present, he was probably lost in his ecstasy, indulging in the pressure, and every thrust, caress, and drop of sweat. But then his face contorted into the most gorgeous orgasmic expression. That was all the answer the bassist needed before a guttural moan ripped through his chest.
“Fuck! Yes... Fffuck!” Chris cried hoarsely, closing his fingers around one of the bassist’s wrists as his dick, squeezed in his other fist, shot thick pulses of cum between them.
“God… You’re so fucking sexy when you come.”
Chris’s body stiffened, quivering with the tension of his muscles as his legs and arms wrapped around the bassist. “Fill me up, Marc,” he said in a strained voice while he continued leaking over them. “Come in my ass.”
The bassist kissed him with feral passion, swallowing his moans as he rode him through his climax until his own balls drew up and his cock throbbed. There it was, the jolt of electricity.
“Fuck!”
“Yes, that’s it… Keep fucking me,” Chris commanded between kisses.
The world rotated backwards, tripping Marc into a daze as if he’d been the one deprived of oxygen. Yet he didn’t stop thrusting, rutting, pushing every drop of semen deep inside of his friend.
As their tongues entangled in a frenzy, the bassist finally let go of Chris’s neck and collapsed on top of him. They were sticky, glued to each other with their own fluids, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was branding this man for life, with his fingertips around his throat and bite marks trailing from his chest down to his thighs.
He wanted the entire world to know.
He wanted Chris to be his forever.
You’re delusional.
And just like that, the high he was experiencing wore out.
No matter how much he loved him, how well they fit together, or how mind-boggling the sex was, Chris wouldn’t settle down.
The bassist let his head fall against the crook of his neck and dropped feathery kisses on his friend. He hadn’t pulled out yet, but these thoughts he’d had just now had his heart weeping, making him want to stay here for a little longer. To drag out this moment that belonged only to them.
“Fuck, Marc…” The guitarist’s voice cracked. “That wasintense.” He chuckled, still curled up around the bassist. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard and that much in my life.”
“Choking can have that effect.”
