“It feels so good,” I almost wail. “So, so good.”
“Yes,” he hisses, hauling me up onto all fours. His hands clamp down my hips, holding me exactly where he needs me. The new angle changes everything, sending a rush stronger than before through my body. “I’m going to make it more than good for you, big guy. I’m going to make it better. The best you’ve ever had.”
The promise alone makes my hole clench around him. “Please,” is all I can manage to say.
He sets an even pace, pistoning in and out of me, and I swear my brain is leaking out of my ears. The mattress creaks and shakes under us, my head knocking against the headboard with each thrust, and instead of pulling away, I just let it happen. He can concuss me and ruin me, do whatever, as long as he doesn’t stop. It’s still not enough. God, I want more. Greedy and ridiculous and embarrassing amounts of more. I want to kiss him. I want him to shove his tongue down my throat and claim me—which is insane. I should be freaking out. I’m being taken apart by another man’s cock, and my biggest concern right now is that he hasn’t kissed me yet.
“Use your words, big guy,” he grunts, eyes half-lidded.
That’s when I realise I’ve lifted my head without thinking, chin tilting up, my mouth hovering way too close to his as he fucks into me, his hips meeting my arse in a reckless rhythm.
“I’m balls deep inside your arse and you’re shy to ask for a kiss?”
My face heats up at his words. He’s so sure of himself. Meanwhile, I have to second-guess every fucking thing I feel.Nah.I will be bold, if only today. I can go back to overanalysing things tomorrow.
“Kiss me, please,” I beg.
He grunts, his eyes darkening. His face morphs into something wild and hungry. His right hand leaves my hip and slides up until his fingers are curling around my neck. And then he crashes our mouths together. And if I think I was on cloud nine before, his mouth on mine takes me fully up to heaven. He tastes warm and a little salty and completely addictive.
Our kiss is messy and deep and nothing like any kiss I’ve ever had before. It makes tingles run through my body in a way that is both intoxicating and relieving. My mind goes blank, every thought is annihilated from my brain. I feel untethered, like I’m free falling, out of control and highly off balance.
Coker kisses me like he’s been thinking about it for a long time. Like this is something he has replayed in his head a hundred times. Like he already knows exactly how to take my mouth and make it his. His lips move against mine, deepening the kiss every time I try to catch my breath, and when his hips snap forward and he pegs my prostate twice in quick succession, a full body shudder I can’t stop rips through me. But he doesn’t let go of my mouth, leaving me delirious. Everything feels so heightened that I’m sure I’ll pass out soon. The drag of him moving in and out of me, the glide of the silk sheets brushing against my cock every time my hips jerk, the wet sound of ourbodies meeting over and over again—they all blend together until my head is feeling fuzzy from how good everything feels.
I’ve never felt this present during sex before. Usually, it’s just something to get through. More like an obligation. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been missing out on.
The way he moves, the way he fills me, the way every thrust sends tiny shocks of pleasure skittering under my skin and blooming into goosebumps along my arms and back. It’s so intense it should hurt, except it doesn’t. It just builds and builds and builds . . . I’ve never felt this good during sex. It’s not even over yet and I already know I’m going to want it again.
Coker releases my mouth, both of us breathing harder, and his hand comes back to my hip, his finger digging in. His thrusts turn messy and erratic as he brushes my prostate over and over.
I hold myself on all fours, knees pressed into the mattress, arms shaking as I meet him thrust for thrust. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a very faint voice is screaming about how I must look right now. Bent over and desperate, practically fucking myself back on another man’s cock, but the voice gets quickly drowned out in favour of chasing my release.
The bed starts slamming against the wall harder in a repetitive thud that barely registers over the obscene sounds spilling out of both of us. Somehow, Coker drives into me deeper and rougher, pushing me higher and higher until I’m a sobbing mess and my orgasm is crashing through me. My mouth falls open around a broken sound, and my thighs tremble as pleasure rolls through me in relentless waves. It keeps going . . . and going . . . and going . . . I think my body has forgotten how to come back down once it started.
Holy fuck.I have never felt anything like this in my life. A cock hitting my prostate is exactly what I’ve needed, the orgasm from it is more intense than any other orgasm I’ve ever had. I’m dimly aware that Coker hasn’t stopped, his thrust turningsloppy as he chases his own orgasm, meanwhile I’m still floating somewhere above my own body, boneless and wrecked. I should probably tap out but I don’t. Because one, I’m not an ingrate. And two, even though I’m sore and overstimulated, it still feels stupidly good. I lift my weak hand and clumsily tweak his nipple. He makes a strange, strangled sound deep in his throat, his body jerks and goes rigid for a second. Then he shudders, hips stuttering as he stills and fills the condom with a hoarse groan.
“Fuck,” he breathes, collapsing on top of me.
For a few long minutes, neither of us say anything. We just lie there, sweaty and panting in unison as we come down from our unbelievable high. My ears are ringing, my whole body is loose in that boneless, blissed-out way that tells me I’ve just been thoroughly fucked.
“Fuck, indeed,” I rasp, my voice rough and completely spent.
15
AUSTIN
—Fade into You
by Mazzy Star
My cock is buriedin Roland Johnson’s arse.
Holy fuck!This is real. My cock is really inside him right now, and he looks wrecked beneath me. His chest is heaving, his lips swollen from our kiss—I still can’t believe I just fucked his brains out, that I made him come apart on my cock. Not like my own brain is anywhere in the vicinity, but that’s not the point.
I had messy, filthy, dirty sex with him and he loved it. That’s the part that keeps looping in my head.
Why is there no Bluetooth for dick and arse? Because I’d love to be paired with Johnson’s arse for as long as I live. Maybe I should get innovative, I’m sure a lot of gay and bi men would eat it up and make me a fortune.
Not to sound like an ungrateful dingus for achieving my dream of playing professional football, but if someone burst into this room right now and asks me to choose between my career and staying exactly where I am, I wouldn’t even pretend tohesitate. I would gladly give football the middle finger just to be glued to this arse.
