Page 105 of Give Me What You Will

Sam whimpered, and he released him, letting his fingers slide out and pushing the tip of his dick against him, inching inside, the tight rim widening and squeezing.

“Are you—?”

“Yes!”

Sam thrusted slowly forward, and Frankie’s jaw clenched at the foreign feeling of an actual dick inside him, yet it didn’t feel uncomfortable or hurt—it was just different.

“Fuck, Frank,” Sam sighed against his shoulder. Before he could prepare, his hips abruptly slammed forward, his cock hitting the sweet spot and sending Frankie over the edge, tumbling into the void of pure fucking sensation, all thoughts evaporated.

Sam began to ask him again if he was okay, his cock seated fully in his ass and unmoving. Frankie ignored the idiotic question and jerked forward and back, fucking himself on Sam’s cock.

His best friend let out a gasping breath and immediately bore down on him, hands on his hips, fingers ruthlessly clasped into the curve of his hips as he began to fuck him.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” Frankie yelled.

Sam didn’t stop, thank God. His tempo merely increased, his cock moving in and slamming home until his legs were trembling beneath him, his cock leaking all over the driver’s seat and his fist—and he wasn’t even pumping himself.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” Sam breathed, hand moving upward to clasp the back of his neck and hair and dragging him backward, forcing him to arch against him. “You want this dick?”

“Yes!” Frankie gasped, uncaring how desperate he sounded as he let his best friend fuck him against his car.

“You love taking care of me…” Sam drawled, spilling lava into his veins at the confident edge to his voice. “You love giving me your ass and letting me pump you full of my cum…”

Oh. Fuck.

Frankie jerked upward, and his hand instantly began to move, jerking himself off, chasing the brutal orgasm that was racing through his bloodstream.

“Or, maybe I paint your ass with my cum and fuck you again?”

He felt his brain chemistry spark and alter. The feel of Sam riding his ass, taking him, taking everything from him, being this connected to him.

“I’m gonna cum!” he shouted.

“Cum, baby. Paint your fuckin’ car with how much you like being fucked by me. My good… fuckin’…”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

His balls tingled almost painfully and his head swam, ears ringing with the praise.

“…boy.”

“Fuck.”

He spasmed so hard he bucked on Sam’s dick, who grabbed onto his hips, drilling into him in a wild, furious tempo, slamming ruthlessly inside while he broke—shattered. It was the hardest he had ever come in his life, somehow levitating into heaven, which smelled like motor oil, basic bar soap, and sweat. Hot, shooting jets of cum coated the driver's seat of his car, and he didn’t fucking care. In fact, he loved it.

He began to soften, his body falling forward onto the car, and Sam, using his strength, kept him upright, his movements jerky as he got close.

“This ass is mine,” he heard Sam seethe between clenched teeth. “You fuckin’ take it so goddamned well.”

The praise made him simper and melt against him, and that was the final straw. Sam reared back one last time and climaxed all over his ass. He felt the hot spray of it and shivered, biting his lower lip hungrily.

And Sam, his Superman, wasn’t done. Panting and shaking, Sam gripped his hip, dragging his cock over the smeared cum on his asscheeks, then pushing it back between them and into his hole.

“Fuuuuck….”

They both let out a torrid groan at the glorious, overly sensitive feeling.

Sam slid his cum slicked tip back and forth before finally stopping, cursing and kissing his back, up his shoulder, and along his neck. “I will never get enough of you.”