Page 82 of Shipwrecked

Mathieu’s hips jerk convulsively. He doesn’t yell, the voice gone out of him. Jules makes a gagging sound, and I hear his effort to swallow. Mathieu gasps as though he’s been winded, curving around Jules’s head.

When it passes, he goes slack.

“Mathieu?” I touch his neck, feeling his feathering pulse as it steadies out, alongside his breaths. He’s boneless. “He passed out,” I say. I untangle his hand from Jules’s hair and set the slack limb on the bedding. Jules comes off his cock with a faint pop.

“Did you swallow?”

“Yes.”

I digest that. Very little else gets through.

“I want to fuck you.” I take a deep breath. Calm. Calm. Calm. “Where’s that lube?”

“Here.”

“Get on your stomach.”

Jules obeys, scooting far enough away from Mathieu that I can sink my knees into the bedding on either side of his hips. He reaches back, pressing the lube bottle against my calf. I pour it onto my hand and copy what Mathieu did, circling Jules’s hole, massaging in the lube before sinking my fingers inside.

Jules drives me nuts with all his little gasps. I’m certain, after I crook my fingers inside and his entire body trembles, that I could make him come from this alone. Maybe, like me, he’s so turned-on that even a whisper of contact feels divine.

“Is this scary?”

Jules responds with a confused, dazed, “Hm? Scary?”

He’s gone. Brain short-circuiting on heavy arousal.

“Alright. This?” I place my hand cautiously on the back of his neck. I apply no pressure whatsoever, yet a heavy shiver passes through Jules’s body.

I get another, “Hm?”

“I can do whatever I want to you, is that it? Don’t offer me that, Jules, because I’ll take you up on it. You’ll never so much as roll out of bed without swallowing my cock first.” I rub his neck, watching his reaction. I can make out his lips parting, feel his pulse hammering against my fingertips. He stays pliant. A prickle of pain darts up my arm from the snakebite when the muscle flexes, a good reminder to keep my strength in check. “I’ll pick you up from work so I can shove your trousers down and fuck you before we even leave the building.”

“I like giving blow jobs,” Jules says against the pillow.

I grin in the dark. “Yeah? Mathieu’s very impressed with what you just did to his cock. You were so good for us it knocked him out.”

Jules makes a satisfied sound. “Blow job?”

“I prefer mouth-fucks, but that’s not what I’m having right now.”

I take my fingers out, coat my cock so it’s slick with lube, and sink into Jules. I’m significantly bigger than my fingers, and it’s a tight squeeze. Jules’s muscles tense against my intrusion as I move into him with steady pressure.

Jules gasps.

My hips meet his ass, and I wait there. Eyes shut, breaths coming uneven and laboured. Gradually, Jules relaxes around my cock.

I start slow. I don’t thrust so much as sink in and out of Jules. I’ve only done it a handful of times when Jules abruptly tenses and convulses. He cries out as he orgasms, and I squeeze his side tight to stop myself from following.

Jules goes slack, gasping.

“Ah, really now,” I say. “You should have told me you were that close. I would have held you properly.”

Jules lets out a sorry, tired grumble.

“Are you falling asleep too?”

Through my hand on the back of his neck, I feel him quickly shaking his head.