We stumble into the bedroom, and Jay stops short. The bed takes up most of the small room, covered in the new sheets I bought yesterday. Dark blue, because Jay mentioned once that he liked dark blue. Real pillows, not the flat motel kind. A soft comforter.
"Holy shit," Jay breathes, staring at it. "That's an actual real bed."
"Our bed." I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my lips to the back of his neck, breathing him in. "No more motel mattresses with springs poking through. This is ours. Only ours to use and abuse."
He turns in my arms, and I kiss him again, slower this time, savoring it. His bare chest is warm against mine through my T-shirt, and I can feel his heart pounding, racing just as fast as mine, matching the rhythm perfectly.
"Too many clothes," Jay mutters against my mouth, his hands already tugging at my shirt. "You're wearing way too many clothes."
I lift my arms and let him pull my shirt off. Then his hands are on my belt, my jeans, pushing everything down with impatient fingers until I'mstepping out of the pile of fabric and kicking it aside. We're both standing there in nothing but our boxers, breathing hard, staring at each other.
"Bed," I say. "Now. Get on the bed."
We fall onto the mattress together, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter and gasping breaths. The sheets are cool and smooth against my back, so different from motel sheets. And then Jay is on top of me, his weight pressing me down into the mattress, his mouth trailing hot kisses down my neck.
"I've been thinking about this," he says against my collarbone, his breath hot on my skin. "Lying in that shitty motel room, imagining what it would be like to have you in a real bed. Our own space."
"And?" I run my hands down his back, feeling every muscle. "How does reality compare?"
"It's better than I imagined. So much better."
He kisses down my chest, taking his time, his hot mouth trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses over my skin, tasting the faint salt of my sweat. He pauses to close his lips around my left nipple, sucking hard with a swirl of his tongue that sends a sharp jolt straight to my cock, making it twitch and leak against the fabric of my boxers.
I arch up into him, gasping as the suction pulls deep, the sensitive bud hardening under his teeth when he nips gently, the sting blooming into throbbing heat. Then he moves to the right one, laving it with the flat of his tongue before biting down just enough to make me whine, my hands clutching at his shoulders.
His hands are everywhere—sliding over my sides, calluses scraping lightly over my ribs, gripping my hips possessively, fingers hooking into the waistband of my boxers, tugging teasingly.
"Can I take these off?" he asks, fingers already pulling at the elastic, knuckles brushing the trail of hair leading down.
"Yes. God, yes. Please—get me naked, touch me everywhere."
He pulls my boxers down and off slowly, the fabric dragging over my hardening cock, making it spring free and slap against my stomach. He tosses them somewhere across the room, the soft thud distant as his dark eyes roam over my body like he's memorizing every detail—every faintscar from old accidents, every freckle, every imperfection that makes me real.
My cock lies heavy against my abdomen, head flushed a deep pink and already glistening with pre-cum that beads at the slit, balls tight and full beneath.
"You're so perfect to me," he says. "Do you know that? Every single time I see you, it hits me all over again. How beautiful you are—your lean body, that gorgeous cock leaking for me. How lucky I am you're mine, all mine to touch and taste."
"Jay—"
"I mean it." He leans down and presses a kiss to my hip bone, the warmth of his lips making my skin tingle, then lower, his breath ghosting over my inner thigh, hot and teasing, making my cock throb visibly. "You're the most gorgeous, tantalizing thing I've ever seen. Will ever see—every curve, every hard line, that pretty dick begging for my mouth."
Then his mouth is on me, hot and wet and perfect, enveloping the head of my cock in velvet heat, his tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge, lapping up the pre-cum with a hum that vibrates through my shaft. The sensation is electric—his lips stretching around my girth, sucking gently at first, then harder, the wet suction pulling at my skin, making my balls draw up tight. I stop thinking altogether, lost in the filthy pleasure.
He takes his time, working me with his lips and tongue, one hand wrapped firmly around the base, stroking the part he can't fit, his fingers squeezing just right to make me pulse in his grip. The other hand grips my thigh, nails digging in slightly, grounding me as he bobs deeper, throat relaxing to take more of me, the tight heat making my head spin.
I thread my fingers through his dark hair, not pushing or guiding, just holding on, watching him through half-closed eyes as he takes me apart piece by piece—the obscene sight of his cheeks hollowing, saliva dripping down my shaft to my balls, mixing with my pre-cum.
"Jay, I'm gonna—if you don't stop I'm gonna—fuck, your mouth feels too good, sucking me like that—"
He pulls off, his lips swollen and slick with spit and pre-cum, grinning up at me wickedly. "Not yet. I don't wantyou to come yet. I want to feel you inside me when you come—want your thick cock pulsing in my ass, filling me up."
The words steal my breath, sending a fresh rush of blood to my already aching erection. We've talked about this, planned for it, fantasized about it during late-night phone calls—describing in filthy detail how it'd feel, how I'd stretch him, how he'd clench around me. But we've never actually done it. There was always a reason to wait—not enough time, not the right place, not ready yet.
"Are you sure?" I ask, shaking with restraint. "We don't have to rush this. We have all the time in the world now—in our own place."
"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." He crawls back up my body and kisses me deep. "I want you. All of you. I want to feel you inside me—your big dick stretching me wide. I want to feel you for days after, sore and marked. I want to finally be all yours. Here in our place. For the first time."
I groan into his mouth, the sound guttural, and roll us over with gentle force, reversing our positions so he's on his back beneath me, legs parting instinctively. His dark hair is spread across the blue pillow, his lips swollen from sucking me, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. He's perfect. He's absolutely perfect—his lean frame, nipples still tight from the cool air, cock jutting up hard and flushed, the head slick and begging.
