“Would you be open to me fucking you?” he asks.
I remember back to that first ill-advised night, when he mentioned he was vers. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it often. How much I wanted to take him up on everything he offered in that one sentence. “Yes, please.”
“Have you bottomed before?” There’s no judgment in his voice, none of the usual bullshit that I often hear from folks. Instead, he gently rubs his hand over my hips, caressing me.
“I have,” I say carefully. “I play with myself sometimes, but it’s been a while since I was with another person.” At least five years, maybe more.
“I’ll take good care of you. You just let me know if you need a break or want me stop.” He looks around the room. “Supplies?”
“Bathroom.” I wince as I say the words. I should have planned and left them on the nightstand.
“Be right back.” He kisses the top of my head and darts off. I barely have a moment to tense up before he’s back, carrying a bottle of lube and condoms.
“You good?” he asks as he crawls back into bed next to me.
“Yeah.” Whatever nerves managed to creep in over the last few seconds dissipate now that he’s next to me again. “Come here.”
Oliver scootches in close so he can kiss me. Once again, I’m completely lost in his touch. Our touches start soft, tentative as we explore one another. It’s only been about a month since the last time we found ourselves in bed together, but it’s like exploring his body for the first time. Each plane and each curve is a discovery.
When his finger grazes my hole, I nearly jump off the bed. It’s not bad, just surprising. For a moment, I forgot where this was going.
“Okay?” Oliver pulls back, waiting for confirmation.
“Yeah, just go slow.”
“As slow as you need.”
True to his word, Oliver preps me slowly. So slowly that I think he’s drawing it on purpose, teasing me even. When I look up at his face, I don’t see any of those things. His expression is pure focus and adoration. As much as I want to tell him to hurrythe fuck up, I can’t. Not when he’s staring at me with what can only be described as reverence.
“How do you feel?” he asks as he leans down, planting kisses along my thigh.
“Like I was fucking ready an hour ago.” It’s the most I’ve said to him through the entire experience, both of us apparently content to let the space be filled with my grunts and moans.
“Don’t get feisty.” Oliver swats my ass playfully, barely hard enough for me to even feel it. “How do you want me?”
He leans over and grabs one of the condoms he set on the mattress. There are three, which is either wishful thinking or a lot of stamina on his part.
“On my side?” It’s what I’ve been imagining all these weeks, him close behind me, holding me tight while he fucks me.
“Perfect.”
Oliver coats his sheathed cock with lube and gets into position behind me. When the head of his cock presses against my entrance, I briefly tense up, a little panicked at the prospect of bottoming for the first time in so long. When I close my eyes, all I can feel is the way Oliver’s touching me.
His hand making slow circles over my thigh.
His lips moving gently against my neck.
His foot tangled against mine in the sheets.
It’s all enough for me to take a deep breath and relax. As soon as I do, he’s able to push inside a little.
“Oh, fuck. Aaron.” Oliver pants against my shoulder. “You’re so tight. You feel so good for me.”
“Need you,” I say. I press my hips back, encouraging him to sink further into me. It’s a slow process, Oliver moving a little at a time until he’s buried deep inside me. He stills, waiting for me to let him know I’m okay. He’s bigger than the dildos I have tucked away in a drawer, but it doesn’t take long for the intrusion to start to feel good.
“Move. Please.”
That must be what Oliver was waiting for, because as soon as the words are out of my mouth, he sets a brutal pace, pounding into me.
