Sharp, piercing pleasure rips down my spine, and I choke as my cock engorges, the rings tightening painfully around my balls. I increase the speed and force of my hips, and a scream tears out of Jesse as his cock erupts, spraying so hard cum hits me in the face and flings across the kitchen. He clenches so hard it throws my never-ending orgasm into overdrive, making me roar through another wave of relentless pleasure-pain.
Jesse and I are coming violently, while I’m pounding into him like some kind of wild beast. Cum is spraying through the air, and we’re screaming and grunting and basically frothing at the mouth.
And that’s when my front door opens.
AJ’s wide eyes pass through a multitude of emotions all at once, and he scrambles backwards. His foot lands on the discarded butt plug that I threw to the floor earlier, and his legs fly out from under him. The bags he was holding fly into the air, and everything comes crashing down. He lands in a heap on my discarded clothes, covered in food and crying, “Oh, God! I’m sorry! Oh My God!”
Worse yet, the prostate massager is still moving violently inside me, my brain short-circuiting with the continued assault of overstimulation on every nerve ending, and I’m completely unable to make sense of anything that’s happening. I have half a mind to cover Jesse’s naked body, but all I can really do is lean over him, slack-jawed, drool and cum dripping from my face, while my hips keep jerking uncontrollably, still hard and rutting inside him involuntarily.
AJ scrambles back through the front door, slamming it multiple times to try to get it to close, but my pants are bunched up in the doorjamb, so it just keeps bouncing open again. Finally, still crying out that he’s sorry and that he did not need to see that, AJ abandons the door. We can hear his footsteps beating a path to the elevator, muttering to himself until the ding of the door opening sounds.
Shaking uncontrollably, I manage to release my cock and balls from the restraints, pull the deadly weapon from my ass and fallonto the floor with my arms and legs splayed wide, panting and staring wide eyed at the ceiling.
What the fuck just happened?
“Shit. Fuck. Shit!” I can’t articulate much past a string of repeated curses and unintelligible frustrated noises.
It’s another twenty minutes before I’m able to get my shit together enough to be able to walk, much less think clearly enough to work through everything that just happened.
AJ isn’t answering his phone, but from my balcony, I can still see his car in the parking lot.
“Shit. Fuck. Shit!” I turn my head to look at Jesse, who is still sprawled across the kitchen island, watching me with an unreadable expression. “I’m going to have to go out there. Are you alright?” His lips quirk, letting me know he’s more than fine. I kiss his forehead and give him a weak, pleading smile for moral support as I pull on my pants and the torn open dress shirt and head downstairs barefoot.
AJ makes a high-pitched noise of surprise and flinches a full foot off his seat when I knock on his window. He fumbles with the window button, which doesn’t work until he starts the car, which takes two tries.
He looks down at his hands twisting together in his lap. “Dude. I am so sorry. I didn’t know… I heard… And I thought…” He blows out a heavy breath and brings his hands up to cover his face. “I’m so sorry.”
I notice a photographer trying to get a good angle, and figure that as awkward as this is, it’s better for us to talk inside.
“Why don’t you come upstairs?”
He squeaks. This dude is almost the same size as me, maybe a bit leaner, but not a small guy by any means. Somehow, the squeak doesn’t seem completely out of character for him.
“AJ. Come upstairs. I’d like you to meet… my boyfriend.”
His fingers separate and he makes momentary eye contact before looking away again. “Your boyfriend?”
I sigh. “Yeah. My boyfriend.”
“His boyfriend. Who he was just plowing on the kitchen counter while making sounds like someone was being murdered.”
“AJ,” I snap, cutting off his muttering. “Are you coming in or not?”
He clears his throat and nods, still not looking me directly in the eye. Trusting that he’ll come up on his own time and wanting to have an extra minute to warn Jesse or carry him to the bedroom if need be, I turn on my heel and head inside.
I nod to the doorman on my way back to the elevator. “Mr. Hill,” I say in greeting.
“Mr. Martín,” he says back. “Making your friends cry again today, I see.”
I rub a hand over my face, and the elevator closes just as AJ enters the lobby again. That should give me a couple of seconds to make sure my condo is fit for company. Or at least I thought it did, because while I was taking my sweet time and allowing myself an extra minute to take several deep breaths in and out,AJ was running up seven flights of stairs. He’s right behind me when I’m stepping inside.
Luckily, the place looks nothing like it did when I chased AJ out of the building. The discarded clothes and food are all picked up, every surface is gleaming, there’s a container of disinfectant cleaning wipes out on the counter, and Jesse, fully dressed in my t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, is pulling something that smells delicious out of the oven.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter as AJ comes barreling in behind me. He takes a moment to look around, possibly questioning if he’s in the same home he walked into not that long ago.
Jesse walks over and kisses me on the cheek, wrapping one arm around my waist and extending the other to my friend.
“Hi AJ, I’m Jesse. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
