Chapter Nine
Mark
There are no wordsto describe what it’s like to fuck Eli. To fill his hole, inch by inch, my balls slapping up against his ass cheeks. Leaving red marks on his flesh, hearing the sounds of his satisfied groans.
My hands glide over the supple round curves of his flank. I relish in the sensations, especially of the bristly hairs covering his ass that tickle my fingers. So unlike being with a woman.
With every thrust of my dick, Eli lets out a loud but muffled moan, his face is pushed into the side of the pillow. I test things out a bit by altering the speed of my thrusts. Slow, slow, slow; fast, slow; our moans in sync and mimicking one another.
And then I speed it up, gripping the top of his shoulder to provide some resistance, and go to town. I’m enthralled with the way the muscles of his back bunch and tense, tighten and release. I glide my fingertips up and down his spine, collecting samples of the sweat that clings there.
After a few more forceful thrusts, Eli spews out a string of expletives.
“Fuck, man...yeah, right there....so close.”
His hand snakes underneath his belly to grip his cock, but I beat him to it, slapping it away and enclosing him in my fist. He’s as hard as a steel rod, the tip covered in pre-cum that I swipe with the pad of my finger. I curl my fingers around his balls, stroking and encircling that only serves to elicit more expletives before I begin jacking him off in earnest.
The sounds of our fucking are loud and animalistic. Gasping, grunting, hard breaths. Fucking beautiful.
“I want you to come all over my hand. All over my bed,” I hum into his ear, nipping at it with my teeth. “I want to wake up to your scent and smell all over my sheets.”
That must do it for him, because a second later, his shoulders tense and his head drops to the pillow with a rapturous howl. His dick jerks and pulses in my grip, his cum shooting over my hand in a ribbon of hot moisture.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”
I grin happily, the mellow contentment of making a lover come washing over me with triumphant glee. Until I feel the tension in my own balls, signaling my imminent release. The quick snap and firing of tingles that torch down my legs and then reverse, shooting up my spine.
Burrowing my chin into the crook of his neck, I bellow out, coming long and hard, releasing with a guttural growl.
A few moments pass, the white spots slowly dissipating from my field of vision, the endorphins that were recklessly swimming around my body beginning to stabilize right along with my heartrate.
Realizing in a moment of lucidness that I’m practically smothering Eli with my body, I release my hold, pulling away from his back that’s covered with a sheen of sweat now and slipping out of his body. He drops to his side and I’m rewarded with the sight of his after-orgasm face.
His eyes are closed, and he wears a happy-ass grin, his cheeks a brightly colored rose glow.
I land next to him in a heap, caring little that I still wear a rubber on my softening dick. I begin to brush light strokes across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, noticing the goosebumps that form over his smooth supple skin.
He moans softly. “That feels good.”
My reply comes in the way of a kiss on his bicep. The bicep covered in a tattoo that wraps around the circumference of his arm.
I don’t have any tattoos, and don’t normally find them appealing, but they are on Eli. They reflect his devil-may-care, lust for life personality. I want to learn what prompted him to get these and what they mean to him.
“I don’t want to get up, but gotta take care of things,” I explain, nodding down to the condom. Eli peeks open an eye, his smile broadening.
“K, but don’t be long. I like to cuddle.”
He winks at me as I slip out of bed and head into the bathroom. I feel his eyes on my backside as I do, glancing back behind me to see him lying contented on my bed.
“It was just like I imagined,” he reveals, his voice full of appreciation, his finger circling in the air pointing at my bare ass. “Actually, no. It was so much better.”
Behind the closed bathroom door, my head filled with his compliment and the memory of our fucking, and I realize that being with him is better than I imagined, too.
Was it ever like this before? This easy companionship that I have with Eli? The pull of attraction that can’t be denied? The insatiable need to be with him and touch every part of him?
I blink at my reflection in the mirror. The same reflection I had earlier in the week, but now it feels blurry. Different. Changed. Altered somehow from the man I was to the one now looking back at me.
I thought I knew who I was. I was Dr. Mark Olsen. Surgeon. Humanitarian. Bisexual with a tendency to remain on the straight and narrow. A man who is still nursing a broken heart and the humiliation of rejection from the woman he thought he’d spend his life with. It all gives me curious pause and muddies the water.
