"Then don't stop. Don't ever stop touching me."
We grind together, our cocks sliding against each other, slick with pre-cum and sweat. The friction is incredible—hot and wet and slippery and not quite enough, never quite enough. My thicker length presses against his slimmer one, the contrast in our sizes making every glide feel more intense—his smooth, straight shaft rubbing along my veined curve, heads bumping and catching, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.
"I want to touch you," Jay says, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and hazy with lust. "Both of us. Together. I want to feel us together—your big cock against mine, throbbing in my hand."
He reaches down between us and wraps his hand around both of our cocks, pressing them side by side in his grip, the heat of his palm enveloping us. I groan and thrust into his hand involuntarily, feeling his length hot and hard against mine—the velvet slide of his skin on mine, his girth yielding slightly to my thicker one, pre-cum mixing to make everything even slicker.
"Fuck, that's good," I manage to gasp out. "That's so good. Feeling us like this, cocks squeezed together."
He strokes us together, slow and tight, his grip firm around our combined shafts, thumb pressing along the undersides where we're most sensitive. "You like feeling me against you? Feeling how hard you make me. My cock leaking for you?"
"I love it. I love everything about this. About you. Spit on your hand—make it wetter. I want to hear it, feel it slide."
His breath hitches, and he nods, eyes locked on mine as he brings his free hand to his mouth and spits into his palm—a thick, wet glob that glistens under the dim light. The sound is obscene, raw, and it makes my cock twitch against his. He switches hands seamlessly, wrapping the spit-slick one around us now, the added lubrication making the stroke smoother, filthier, our cocks gliding together with lewd, squelching sounds.
"God, that's better," he moans, thrusting into his own grip. "So wet now. Your cock feels even bigger like this, stretching my fingers wide around us."
I can't resist. I spit into my own palm next, the saliva warm and stringy, and reach down to join him, our hands overlapping now. His gripping the bases, mine focusing on the heads, stroking in tandem. The combined spit makes everything impossibly slick, our cocks sliding side by side, bumping and rubbing, veins catching on each other as we pump together. I feel every throb of his shaft against mine, the way his head flares with each upstroke, pre-cum bubbling out to mix with the saliva.
I thrust into our hands, matching his rhythm, and the sensation is overwhelming. We're both panting now, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on each other. I can see every emotion flickering across his face—want and need.
"When you're gone, I'll be thinking about this," Jay says. "I'll think about you touching me. About touching you. About what your skin feels like, what you sound like when you're losing control—your deep groans when I stroke you just right."
"Tell me more."
"I'll be thinking about your hands. How big they are, how they feel on me." He twists his grip suddenly, squeezing our cocks tighter together, and I cry out, my hips jerking up hard. "I'll think about your mouth. About what it felt like this morning when you took me in your mouth and made me forget my own name, sucking me so fucking deep."
"God, yes. Tell me more—fuck."
"I'll think about how big you are, how good you feel in my hand—thick and heavy next to mine, that curve hitting just right." He speeds up his strokes, his breathing getting ragged, our spit-slick palms flying over our aligned shafts. "I'll think about what it's going to be like when you're finally inside me. What this fat cock will feel like, stretching my ass, filling me up completely."
I groan and thrust harder into our hands, chasing the feeling, chasing the release, our cocks rubbing frantically side by side, heads kissing with every pump.
"God, I want that," I tell him. "I want to fuck you. To be inside you. I can't wait to know what you feel like—tight and hot around me."
He speeds up his strokes, our hands moving faster, tighter, the spit drying slightly but replaced by more pre-cum oozing from both of us. "Soon. When we're both ready. When we've prepared. For now, I just want this. I want to come with you. Together. I want to feel you fall apart—feel your cock come against mine."
"Yes. Fuck, yes. Don't stop—keep stroking us like that, side by side."
We move together, thrusting into our shared grips, our bodies slick with sweat, the room filling with the sounds of our breathing and the wet slide of our hands—sloppy, rhythmic, building. Jay's free hand is on my back, nails digging into myskin hard enough to leave marks. My hands shift—one still stroking with his, the other gripping his hips hard, pulling him against me with each thrust, our abs flexing as we grind.
"Close," he gasps, his forehead pressed against mine, breath hot on my lips. "I'm so close—I can feel it building, my balls tightening—"
"Me too. Come with me. I want to feel you."
He shouts my name as he comes, his whole body going rigid. His cock swelling against mine in our hands before pulsing hard with thick, hot ropes of cum erupting from his tip, splattering across our abs in messy streaks. Feeling his cock throb beside mine, the slick heat of his release spilling over our joined shafts, pushes me over the edge right behind him. I come with a groan, my vision going completely white—my cock jerking powerfully against his, unloading in heavy spurts that join his.
We collapse together onto the mattress, gasping for air, covered in each other's release—our cum mingling on our skin.
Neither of us moves. Neither of us can. We're stuck together, sweaty and sticky and completely wrung out.
"Holy shit," Jay says eventually. He laughs breathlessly. "We're going to need another shower."
"In a minute." I pull him closer, not caring about the mess, not caring about anything except having him in my arms. "Just stay here for a minute. Don't move yet."
He relaxes against me, his head on my shoulder, his breath warm and damp on my neck. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slow gradually against my chest, feeling his breathing even out.
"I keep thinking this should feel weird." I try to find the right words for what I'm feeling. "We were kids the last time we were together. And now we're—" I gesture vaguely at our naked, tangled bodies. "This. Adults having sex. And it doesn't feel weird at all. It feels like the most natural thing in the world."
