I gesture between us. “It’s been nearly ten years since we’ve been together like this, and the chemistry most definitely isn’t dead.” I glance down at our erections, then back up at him with amusement. “I don’t think anything can or will fizzle out. But if you’re concerned about me and Lauren, don’t be. That’s its own separate relationship, and I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but in time, I have faith we can get there if we really try for it. Just like you and I had our own thing going on, all those years ago. We won’t know unless we try though.”
I can see the worry lines on his face flatten out slightly. He nods, biting his lip. God, his apprehension—all his insecurities—they just speak so loudly when it comes to Marcus’ character. It melts my heart way more than I ever could have expected with how much annoyance I harbored for him for years.
I curl my arms around his ribcage, pulling him back to me once again. I bury my face in one of his pecs and gently pull on his nipple, lapping and sucking it. His lower back bows in, and he groans loudly. He always talked about getting them pierced because he loves nipple play so much, so I’m a little surprised that he never pulled the pin and got them done. After I leave that nipple pebbled and suck-swollen, I swap over to the other while he grinds against me again.
“Oh fuck yeah, C,” he moans, and it fills me with pride.
My mouth might not be much good for talking anymore, but it sure as shit is still good for other things.
Of their own accord, my fingers trace letters on his back.M-O-R-E,I beg, unsure if he even realizes I’m spelling something.
“You want me to go harder?” he asks, panting as he rides me.
I nod. He lightly huffs out a chuckle. “I’m impressed at myself that I got that,” he notes.
G-O-O-D B-O-Y.
I feel his cock twitch beside mine. “Oh fuck, C, you didnotjust call me a ‘good boy.’”
My chest shudders with silent laughter.
“I’m going to come in my shorts,” he huffs. “I don’t want to come in my shorts. Can I take us out?”
D-O I-T.
“Oh, thank god.”
He sits up and quickly steps out of his shorts and briefs. I tug mine down at the same time, letting them pool around my ankles. I tug my cut-off t-shirt up over my head afterwards and then lay back on the couch.
He settles himself over me, braced on one arm beside my head. He spits on his other hand and reaches between our bodies, curling his palm around both of our shafts, pressing them together. I let out the biggest sigh when I feel his heat and every veiny ridge glide against my length.
I coat my middle and ring fingers with a healthy amount of saliva and let them slide down his crease. When I reach his puckered rim, I swirl my fingers around, teasing his hole. A little gasp escapes him when my fingertip breaches his tight ring. Yet another item on my lengthy list of things I’ve never forgotten about Marcus: helovesbeing fingered.
“I’m not going to last,” he admits breathlessly when it doesn’t take me long to find his prostate. “Mmmfuck. Right there. Oh god.”
Having gotten my second finger in now, I begin scissoring them in time to his hips pumping. He holds his calloused hand steady,providing us with a deliciously rough channel to fuck into, using our combined steady stream of pre-cum as lube.
G-O-O-D I tell him, tracing the letters on his back sloppily as we writhe together. C-L-O-S-E.
“I’m c-close too,” he pants. “So close, baby.”
Baby.
The term of endearment is my undoing, when I’ve been hovering so close to the edge of release. Without warning, my muscles contract, my balls draw up tight, and I explode—my entire body shuddering—as I shoot off into his hand, all over his cock, between our sweat-slickened bodies and sticking to his chest hair. My mouth is agape, and were it not for my mangled vocal cords, I’m positive that my shouts of pleasure would be bouncing off the walls.
“Fuuuuck, Caleb,” he groans, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Still so perfect when you come.”
I never relent teasing his prostate, letting my fingers dig and twist around inside of his tight ass, until finally I feel him start to clench around my fingers. “Mmmph!” he whimpers, releasing his grip on us so that he can allow himself to fall on top of me, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
He latches on and sucks hard as he comes. I know I should stop him because it’s going to be hard to cover up a mark this intense, but I can’t rightfully find it in me to care at the moment. Not one for being overly vocal during sex—he always left that to me and my dirty mouth—he never could help himself from leaving behind lasting evidence of how he’d taken his pleasure. It’s like it was his own secretive way of coming out, by leaving an impression.
His cum pulses out, hot spurts mixing with mine, leaving our bodies sticky-slick with our combined release as he slumps on top of me. He eventually releases the sensitive skin of my collarbone—asensation of prickles left behind in the wake of his suction—licking it and pressing gentle kisses to it afterwards as if admiring his handiwork with his lips and tongue.
“I, um—sorry. I left quite a hickey,” he croaks.
“It’s okay,” I sign back with the hand I was using to gently comb my fingers through his hair.
“Lauren’s good with that makeup correction thing, if you need help covering it up,” he explains.
