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Authors: Anna Martin
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was an inevitable conclusion. He was erect. Painfully so, if I had correctly interpreted the shiny skin, swollen head, and taut, drawn-up testicles.
I realized I was staring and looked guiltily back up at his face. Chris hitched an eyebrow and dropped his knees open in clear invitation. Stretched out beside him, I placed my hand carefully on his stomach and leaned in for a kiss. He responded with a slow, slick, wet slide of tongues that pooled heat in my groin and made me want him even more, if that was even possible.
Kissing down his neck, I took time to find the spots that made him shudder and squirm. I hoped and had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last exploration of his body that I took. It was still worth making these mental notes for future reference.
As I shifted down the bed, I risked another glance up at his face. Chris was smiling serenely, an arm thrown casually above his head and the other resting gently on my back. I kept my eyes trained on his as my tongue circled his nipple, flicked it, then sucked the pink, puckered flesh into my mouth.
It was like I’d flipped a switch.
Gone was the calm, composed man of half a moment ago. Chris arched his back from the bed, thrusting his body up toward me and muttering a string of curses and expletives. Delighted at his reaction, I continued to tease and torture him, drawing the most delicious sounds from his mouth.
“Fuck,” he said, laughing now as I pulled away. “You found my weakness.”
I nodded and replaced my tongue with the pad of my thumb, still circling his nipple slowly.
“Can you come from just this?” I asked.
“No. But I can get really fucking close.”
Wanting his lips, I leaned in for another kiss, this one tasting of the spike of heat between us. I reached for my admittedly small stash of condoms and lube. While I was reaching over, I turned on the single lamp, which emitted a soft glow. I wanted to be able to see him.
Chris took them from me and maybe realized that it was my turn to get some attention, but in the form of gentle reassurance. Then he got a look at my chosen brand of lubricant and huffed.
“Really, Rob?”
“What?”
He smirked. “This is jerk-off lube, not fucking lube.”
“What would you prefer?” I asked, stung.
“Don’t worry,” he said, pouring some of it onto his fingers. “I’ll bring better stuff next time.”
Next time. We hadn’t even gotten there yet and he was already talking about a next time. I watched, entranced, as he spread the lubricant between his legs, over his cock, down to his hole, which he painted liberally with the viscous liquid, but he didn’t attempt to push inside himself.
Before I could formulate a response to his actions, he rolled over onto his stomach and up onto his hands and knees, pushing his ass back toward me.
“No,” I said, giving him a sharp, stinging slap on the rump. “Flip over.”
He frowned but followed my instruction, resuming his previous position. On his back, he brought his knees up to his chest, knowing now what I wanted. The sound of his breathing was loud in my ears as I fumbled with the foil encasing the condom and rolled it down over my cock with shaking fingers.
My efforts to stretch him were met with a frustrated “Fuck it, now, Rob. Now,” so I abandoned that task and moved between his legs. When I positioned myself, one hand braced on the bed next to Chris’s shoulder, the other guiding my cock, he looked up at me with the same lazy, indulgent expression that he’d worn earlier. Only now I knew how to change it, how to turn him into a writhing, desperate thing. I lined the head of my cock up but watched his face as I pushed forward, knowing that without much preparation, this could hurt him.
Achingly slow, I pushed into him, waiting for a moment for him to adjust before sinking the rest of the way into him.
“Wow,” he murmured. “Oh, wow.”
It didn’t seem to hurt; his mouth stretched wide in an “Oh!” of pleasure, and
I realized I was staring and looked guiltily back up at his face. Chris hitched an eyebrow and dropped his knees open in clear invitation. Stretched out beside him, I placed my hand carefully on his stomach and leaned in for a kiss. He responded with a slow, slick, wet slide of tongues that pooled heat in my groin and made me want him even more, if that was even possible.
Kissing down his neck, I took time to find the spots that made him shudder and squirm. I hoped and had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last exploration of his body that I took. It was still worth making these mental notes for future reference.
As I shifted down the bed, I risked another glance up at his face. Chris was smiling serenely, an arm thrown casually above his head and the other resting gently on my back. I kept my eyes trained on his as my tongue circled his nipple, flicked it, then sucked the pink, puckered flesh into my mouth.
It was like I’d flipped a switch.
Gone was the calm, composed man of half a moment ago. Chris arched his back from the bed, thrusting his body up toward me and muttering a string of curses and expletives. Delighted at his reaction, I continued to tease and torture him, drawing the most delicious sounds from his mouth.
“Fuck,” he said, laughing now as I pulled away. “You found my weakness.”
I nodded and replaced my tongue with the pad of my thumb, still circling his nipple slowly.
“Can you come from just this?” I asked.
“No. But I can get really fucking close.”
Wanting his lips, I leaned in for another kiss, this one tasting of the spike of heat between us. I reached for my admittedly small stash of condoms and lube. While I was reaching over, I turned on the single lamp, which emitted a soft glow. I wanted to be able to see him.
Chris took them from me and maybe realized that it was my turn to get some attention, but in the form of gentle reassurance. Then he got a look at my chosen brand of lubricant and huffed.
“Really, Rob?”
“What?”
He smirked. “This is jerk-off lube, not fucking lube.”
“What would you prefer?” I asked, stung.
“Don’t worry,” he said, pouring some of it onto his fingers. “I’ll bring better stuff next time.”
Next time. We hadn’t even gotten there yet and he was already talking about a next time. I watched, entranced, as he spread the lubricant between his legs, over his cock, down to his hole, which he painted liberally with the viscous liquid, but he didn’t attempt to push inside himself.
Before I could formulate a response to his actions, he rolled over onto his stomach and up onto his hands and knees, pushing his ass back toward me.
“No,” I said, giving him a sharp, stinging slap on the rump. “Flip over.”
He frowned but followed my instruction, resuming his previous position. On his back, he brought his knees up to his chest, knowing now what I wanted. The sound of his breathing was loud in my ears as I fumbled with the foil encasing the condom and rolled it down over my cock with shaking fingers.
My efforts to stretch him were met with a frustrated “Fuck it, now, Rob. Now,” so I abandoned that task and moved between his legs. When I positioned myself, one hand braced on the bed next to Chris’s shoulder, the other guiding my cock, he looked up at me with the same lazy, indulgent expression that he’d worn earlier. Only now I knew how to change it, how to turn him into a writhing, desperate thing. I lined the head of my cock up but watched his face as I pushed forward, knowing that without much preparation, this could hurt him.
Achingly slow, I pushed into him, waiting for a moment for him to adjust before sinking the rest of the way into him.
“Wow,” he murmured. “Oh, wow.”
It didn’t seem to hurt; his mouth stretched wide in an “Oh!” of pleasure, and
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