Darius smiles into the kiss, his hands tangling in my hair. Our mouths meet again, passion burning hot and fierce between us. Using the glass behind Darius to steady him, I pull away enough to rip his shirt open; the buttons on his two hundred dollar Vivienne Westwood shirt popping off, revealing a soft cream silk camisole beneath. “Sorry,” I say, looking down at the damaged fabric between my hands.
“Don’t care,” he mumbles, his mouth chasing mine, his body rolling forward, arms wrapping around my neck. “Do you have a condom? Lube?”
My already hard cock throbs at the question, and I kiss Darius harder, biting his lip until he hisses into my mouth. “In my wallet.”
I spin us around, looking over his shoulder at the open planned space. There’s nothing here besides a small black leather sofa against one wall and a couple of taller barstools stacked in a far corner.
“You sure you want to do this here?”
He’s rotating his hips, grinding his hard cock into my stomach. “Very sure.”
“What if someone else shows up?”
He’s breathless with need when he answers. “No one will. Just us.”
Trusting that he’s right but also not really caring if someone does walk in, I urge Darius down my body onto his feet. I search out my jeans and remove a condom and sachet of lube from my wallet. As I move to the sofa, I pull my boxers down then settle against the cold leather. Darius follows, but he’s still partly dressed, and before he can climb into my lap, I lift a hand.
“Let me see you.” His shirt and camisole are already on the floor near the window, and his arousal is evident by both the outline of his erection in his skintight black jeans and his peaked nipples. He’s close enough that I could touch him, but I don’t. Instead, I take my cock in hand, giving languid strokes as he undoes the button on his jeans. With his eyes on me, Darius pulls down the zip, then slowly as if to tease, he shimmies them all the way off until he’s standing in nothing but a pair of royal blue lace panties. “Fuck.” My hand on my cock falters. “Turn around.” Darius does as I ask, and my cock grows impossibly harder at the sight in front of me. He’s not in panties. He’s wearing a fucking thong, and I don’t think I have ever been more turned on. When he puts his hands on the thin fabric to pull it down, I reach out and haul him towards me so that his back is to my chest, his ass on my lap. “Leave them on.” My voice comes out a growl and his body shudders in my hold.
“Next time I’ve got you in a bed,” I groan, running my hands up his chest. “I’m going to take my time tasting every single inch of you.” Darius tips his head to the side, the smooth expanse of his neck on full display, and I waste no time in leaving a mark right above where the collar of his shirt would sit for all the world to see. Moaning, he presses his ass harder into my lap, and I leave him to grind against me while I snake a hand into the front of his underwear, taking his cock in my hand. He’s hard and slick with pre-cum, and I use it to ease the glide as I workhim over hard and fast. Darius meets my movements, his hips rotating, his hand digging into my thigh as he chases his release.
“Ollie, I’m gonna…” he whimpers, his head thrown back on my shoulder.
“I know, baby.” Despite recognising he’s straddling the edge, I don’t stop. “You think you can come more than once tonight?”
He’s nodding, his hair brushing my cheek as he seeks my mouth. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, and when I add a twist, his body tenses and he lets out a guttural groan, which is loud in the empty space. I work him through his orgasm, capturing his release in my hand. Darius is lax in my lap, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Good. Very, very good.”
“Ready for more?”
He tips his head back, dark eyes meeting mine. There’s a bead of sweat trailing down his temple, and I stick out my tongue and lick it away. “Yes.”
“Turn around. I want to look at you when I slide inside you for the first time.”
Darius stands, wobbling as he does, then turns around and straddles me. He eyes the cum still in my palm.
With my lips at his ear, I whisper, “I want to fuck you with your cum.”
“Jesus, Ollie,” he groans, rolling his head on my shoulder.
Bringing my free hand to his ass, I draw the thong to the side, part his cheeks and dribble his release down his crack, massaging it around his hole.
Darius whimpers, his cock already growing hard between us again. When I slip a finger inside him, eased by the cum coating his skin, he mewls and thrusts backwards.
“Kiss me, baby,” I command, and he does, alternating between using his tongue and pulling back until we’re merely breathinginto each other. I add a second finger, and then a third, by which point my cock is so hard and my body so wound tight that I fear I won’t last long once I’m settled inside his hot channel. “Give me your hand.”
Darius brings a hand between us, and I move it to his crease, then remove my hand.
“Finger yourself.” His mouth is parted, his lips glistening, and his cheeks bright red. “Fuck, you’re stunning.” Darius pushes his fingers inside himself and then he’s fucking back onto them, his movements rough and uncoordinated. In this position, there’s enough gap between us that I can reach my aching cock. The condom and lube are on the sofa next to us. I pick up the condom and rip the foil packet open.
“Can we leave it?” My eyes shoot to his. He’s stopped touching himself, his hand stroking over his cock, poking out of the top of the lacy fabric. “I mean. Would you…fuck me bare?”
I swallow thickly. I’veneverfucked anyone without a condom. I’ve never wanted to.
Until now.
