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It had been a spectacular night.

And it was about to get better.

I fumbled with the keys as Oliver held me from behind, his hands gliding up and down my chest. The key slid into the lock of my door. I pushed it open, a fresh blast of air escaping out into the night. Oliver’s hands were lower now, rubbing over my crotch as he kissed my back.

Like I said, the night was about to get better.

My entire body vibrated with desire. We stepped into my living room and shut the door. Mason and Jar both came to greet us but quickly turned around and fled back to their perches once clothes started flying off.

“Fuck,” I said in a hiss, sucking in Oliver’s breath as he kissed me, both of our clothes lying in a heap on the floor. We were completely naked, our hard cocks pressed together as I walked us toward the couch.

“How’s it feel?” Oliver asked. Now that we weren’t in earshot of a stranger, I could be more honest.

“Like I’ve had something stuck in my ass for the past three hours.” I licked my lips as I pushed Oliver down onto the couch. “And I’ve fucking loved it.”

“Oh yeah?” Oliver, the cheeky little bastard, spit in his hand and started to stroke himself off, slow and wet.

The plug in my ass filled me up. I reached around and moved it around in a swirl, feeling it push against me. Oliver continued to stroke, a drunken haze floating through his sky-blue eyes.

“Turn around for me.”

I loved this side of Oliver. It had been coming out more and more recently. An assertiveness to ask for what he wanted and the confidence to get it. I turned for him and bent over, showing my ass. He leaned forward and grabbed the rim of the silicone plug. He started to move in, in and out. I heard him spit, feeling the wetness lather me up.

Soon, the plug was sliding in and out, my entire body feeling like I’d been placed on a tightrope above the Grand Canyon.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Play with my ass.” The words fell out of me like gravel. Oliver was taking me to new heights. “That’s it.”

I started pushing back, feeling the plug sliding in and out of me. Oliver moaned, pulling the plug completely out of me, making me gasp loud and cry out for more.

More than the plug—I cried out for Oliver.

“Fuck me, Oliver.”

More spit. I bent over, putting my hands down on the coffee table. I couldn’t wait to get to the bed. I had to have Oliver here and now. It was a desire that spanned eons and couldn’t wait any longer.

Oliver pressed himself against my hole, the pressure different from the plug. It was softer, warmer. I needed to feel the rest of him; I had to feel him slide into me.

“Do it, Olly. Fuck me.”

He needed no more encouragement. He thrust, his dick sinking into me, flooding my vision with ecstasy-fueled explosions. I cried out, harder and louder. My words mumbled and merged. Oliver fucked me hard, holding nothing back, slamming into me with the sole goal to make us one being.

“Sit down,” I said between thrusts. Oliver pulled out of me, making me spasm with pleasure and a hungry need.

A hunger I was about to feed.

Oliver sat down on the couch, legs spread and cock hard, standing up and glistening wet. I smiled, spitting on my fingers and rubbing it over my hole, getting myself soaked before I climbed onto Oliver, straddling him on the couch. My hard dick rubbed against his chest, smearing a trail of precome across the pale, flushed skin.

Oliver craned his head down and flicked his tongue across my slit, driving me wild.

I reached around and grabbed Oliver’s hard length in my hand. I lined him up with my hole and sat back, slowly, taking him in inch by inch, relishing in the feeling of him stretching me open, filling me up.

I sat all the way down, impaling myself on him. My balls were tight against me, my cock bouncing as I started to fuck Oliver, sliding up and down, both of us sounding like animals. I had both hands on the couch, on either side of Oliver’s head.

“Oh God, Beck, that feels so good. Oh God.”

“Yeah? You like fucking me?”

“Mhmm. Yes. I do. I do.”

Our lips met in a lust-filled kiss as Oliver thrust up into me, fucking me harder. He hit me deep, pushing against my swollen P-spot, sending a new set of explosions across my vision. Sweat beaded on my forehead, dripped down my lip.

“Keep going,” I said. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? Do it. Blow your load all over my chest, Beck.”

“Fuck, keep fucking me.” My hole clenched around him. My cock twitched in the air, come starting to shoot.

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