It was good. But it wasn't everything, and Greg wanted everything.
“I want you,” he said. “In me. I want to feel it.”
Dustin made a low sound. His eyes closed briefly, his jaw tightening. “Fuck,” he said, with feeling. “Get your clothes off.”
He rolled off the bed to stand and strip, while Greg pulled his shirt over his head, his fingers clumsy with urgency. They tossed their clothes on the floor, then theywere back on the mattress, skin to skin, the slide of Dustin's body over his making Greg gasp.
Dustin's mouth was at his ear. “We're going to take it slow,” he said. “I'll make it good for you. I promise.”
He reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube.
Greg's stomach flipped.
Dustin settled beside him, propped on one elbow, and poured the lube onto his fingers. “Stay on your back,” he said. “I want to see you.”
Greg nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Dustin kissed him, a long kiss, his tongue slow and deep. His hand traced down Greg's stomach, over the curve of his hip, between his legs. Greg spread his thighs to give him better access.
Dustin's finger circled his entrance, teasing the sensitive skin, and Greg tensed involuntarily.
“Relax,” Dustin murmured against his mouth. “Just breathe.”
Greg took a deep breath and felt Dustin's finger press inside him. It was strange at first — a new kind of invasion, uncomfortable, too much.
He forced himself to relax, to breathe, and Dustin's finger slid deeper, moving in him in a way that was both foreign and undeniably intimate. Dustin's mouth left his to trail kisses down his neck, his collarbone, while his finger worked in and out, the lube easing the way.
“Good,” Dustin whispered against his skin. “You're doing so good, Greg.”
A second finger joined the first, and the stretch increased, a burn that had Greg gasping. Dustin's free hand found his cock, stroking him slowly, a distraction from the discomfort, a counterpointof pleasure.
“Is this okay?” Dustin asked.
“Yes,” Greg said, his voice rough. “Don't stop.”
Dustin didn't stop. His fingers moved in a scissoring motion, stretching Greg open, finding a spot inside him that made his entire body clench with sudden, intense pleasure.
“There,” Dustin said, his voice low and satisfied. He pressed against that spot again, and Greg arched off the bed, his hands grabbing at Dustin's shoulders.
“Dustin—”
“Right there, huh?” Dustin's hand on Greg's cock picked up speed, matching the rhythm of his fingers inside. “You're so tight. You feel amazing.”
Greg could only make incoherent sounds in response, his mind dissolving under the dual sensations. The burn had faded into something else, something that made him want more, made him want Dustin inside him in a way he'd never wanted anything before.
“Dustin, please,” he gasped.
Dustin withdrew his fingers carefully, leaving Greg feeling suddenly empty. He looked down at himself. “I should probably take these out.”
“Take out what?” It was difficult for Greg to form a complete thought, but he realized suddenly that Dustin was talking about the piercings on his cock. Which was... “No,” he said. Dustin wasn't Dustin without those.
Dustin gave him a look. “It would only take a few seconds.”
“I don't want them out.”
Dustin hesitated. “It's your first time. This may be too much.”
Greg reached for him, his hand wrapping around Dustin's cock, feeling the metal of the piercings against hispalm. “I want you just like this,” he said. “Please, Dustin.”
