Page 77 of By Any Means

Chary inhaled. “But⁠—”

“Yep.”

Chary had no rebuttal. Laurie hauled in his legs and bent forward and again began that slow, torturous slide.

Chary watched in agony and anticipation and terror until Laurie had him wholly engulfed once more, and then he simply couldn’t watch or else lose it right there. He threw his head back. Both his legs came far up, damn his house-of-cards stance, and his ankles crossed.

“God.”

He pulled Laurie in like he’d been told, around his shoulders. Hold me close. Laurie caught the forward shift of his weight in two steady hands, groaning agreement, mouth-full, throat-stuffed, wrangled.

Chary curled up on his elbows to stare again. So much beauty shoved between his legs. So much sensation, all at once. The instinct to thrust was impossible to ignore. He put his hands on upon caramel-silk blond, twitched his hips forward.

Astoundingly, Laurie squeezed his ass in encouragement. He came back up for air briefly—“You’re amazing”—then returned like he’d never left.

“Hell. Oh, hell.” Chary’s whole person became a bow of sparking agony. He had to fight to keep his hands gentle in Laurie’s hair. “Laurie.”

Emboldened by his taste of paradise, he’d become someone else, someone totally stranger between never having known he wanted someone else’s throat and now having had Laurie’s. He wanted it again and again and again and he was still there, having it.

Ten breaths in, he knew he was going to come fast, and no way around it. “Laurie, come off again. If you stay there, I’ll…c-c-…Oh— Oh, no.” He hissed in terrified, guilty need. “I need to— I need it⁠—”

Laurie made another agreeing rumble and pulled him in ever closer, hands gathering everything he could reach, holding Chary tight but not still. Chary thrust and felt Laurie swallow and gag but not withdraw; his throat became a clenching sheath.

And Jesus, Lord, that was it.

“Lau— Ohh.” Chary’s breath stuck painfully in his own throat as he gritted his teeth and thrust and thrust and thrust. He squeezed his eyes shut and came so hard, his muscles felt like they’d break his bones.

Post-delirium, probably thankfully for Laurie, he was re-made limp and pliable. As he spun dizzily on the bed, breathing deep, Laurie shook easily free from his grasp, and Chary’s soft-knead, exceptionally wet cock was spat out a little hastily. Laurie put his forehead down on a hipbone, gasping, shoulders heaving. One leg, then the other was let down carefully to the floor, fingers trailing.

“That was…” Chary had no words, and even less of an idea what now came next, what to do. Reciprocate? He didn’t have the slightest idea how, and it seemed like something one had to learn. He traced Laurie’s shoulders, the thick muscle along his neck, swooping paths. “What was it?”

“Mm.” Laurie dug his forehead in harder, nuzzling slightly. “Uh,” he said roughly, “throat-fucking. Nobody’s done it to you before?”

“Absolutely not.” Nobody’d done anything to him before.

“Damn.” Laurie coughed. “You sure know what to do.”

Chary skittered backward and up; the sheets were slippery. “Did I hurt you?”

Laurie sat back on haunches on the tile and shook his head. “Nope. Been a while.” He coughed again. “I guess I oughta thank you for being such an easy trigger.” He stood. “Holy hell. Yeah, that probably wasn’t wise.”

Oh, no. Was that undesirable? Or worse—the opposite— “Was it… so unendurable?”

“Chary, no. I begged for it. I’d die happy if it’d gone on forever. I’m just out of practice, choking on cock. Of the particularly massive kind.”

Chary blinked.

Laurie smiled. “You wanted honesty.”

“Ahh… yes.” He found a distraction. “But where did your towel go?”

Laurie had not a single stitch on him and noticeably no erection anymore, either; his cock was flushed but relaxed against his thigh. Unselfconscious, he pointed to the tile floor.

“Sacrifice.”

Chary peered over the bedframe. “Oh. Oh?”

“Unendurable?” Laurie whispered. “I’m sorry. No.” He shuddered, and Chary watched, fascinated, as muscle and fat rippled like waves. “But yeah. We should probably⁠—”