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Richie’s eyes are on me, glassy with a mixture of impatience and amazement.
I lean down and press my lips to his.
Just as I slide inside.
Richie moans against my mouth.
He’s tighter than I expected, yet my dick finds its way right in, like Richie was ready for me. In seconds, I feel buried so deep in him, our bodies are one. With every thrust, we feel the inescapable pleasure of electricity surging through our bodies. It feels like we’ve tapped into a vein of ecstasy with no end in sight; a limitless and unmatched fountain of sexual fulfillment that will never run dry.
Maybe I never wanted to know how fake my dances were on the stage of Aubergines.
Maybe I was happy feeling like it was enough to dance, flex, and strip my clothes off for others on cam, making hearts all over the world a little less lonely.
Maybe I didn’t need that joy reciprocated.
Now that I’ve had a taste, it could almost bring me to tears, what I’ve been missing this whole time.
Richie stares deeply into my eyes, drunk with the paramount pleasure our joined, moving bodies are providing us. “Am I hurting you?” I ask him. “I don’t wanna be too rough with you.”
Richie lifts his head up to kiss me as I continue to pump him without missing a beat, then replies, “My body may not be what it used to be, but I can take a hell of a lot more than you think.”
I smirk. “Oh, I’m sure you can.”
He reaches between our bodies and starts to stroke himself—but ever so slowly, as if indicating how close he already is, just from the thrusts of my dick up his ass.
I feel like I could pound him for hours. I don’t ever want this feeling to end. It’s so exquisite, so perfectly balanced, that I’m terrified I’ll never feel it again. I’m certain of it.
Until we’re sweaty with exhaustion …
Until my thighs, ass, and abs are as tight and sore as my hardest workout …
Until Richie starts biting his lip and squirming beneath me with imminent release …
That’s when I finally tell him, “I’m going to come so fucking hard inside you, Richie. I can’t—”
“Me, too,” he groans, his eyes on me.
“—hold back any longer.”
He erupts first, coming between our bodies in wave after wave. My thrusting, which grows twice in strength at the sight of him coming, makes him come that much harder. And just when I think I’m lost in the ecstasy that’s so clearly in his eyes, I lose my own control, and I nearly topple on top of Richie’s spent body as I come, long and hard and without an end in sight. It seems to last forever.
When sense returns, I’m still on top of Richie, except he’s cradling me now in his arms. The both of us are catching our breaths, our sweaty bodies pressed close to each other. I’m still inside him, the last winks of life left in my hard-on dissipating with my every heartbeat, throbbing inside his ass.
“Am I crushing you?” I whisper in his ear.
“You’re lighter than you look,” he teases, “Mr. Muscular Dancer Boy.”
“Good. Because I don’t wanna move an inch.”
“You don’t have to.” His arms hug me tighter. “I’ve got you, Isaac.”
Isaac … I close my eyes and smile, feeling so perfectly at peace, my heart light. “I feel like I’m in a dream …” I murmur. “I don’t want to wake up.”
“You don’t have to do that, either.”
“Mmm … you’re so accommodating.”
“We can stay here as long as you want.” One of his hands comes up to the back of my head. His fingers gently stroke my hair. “As long as you’re willing. I don’t want to wake from this dream of ours, either … not ever.”
It’s a seductive idea.
Just staying here in this bed, as long as we want to, letting the world around us fade away, as if it was the dream all along, and our bliss is the reality.
Maybe that’s exactly what it is.
Once we are in fact willing to leave the heaven that is my bed, we clean up, put on our clothes (I get into something more comfortable) and lounge in the living room, where we’ve poured ourselves a couple glasses of something from my cabinet and chat about everything in our hearts. Neither of us pay any mind to the hour. Once our glasses are empty, I find myself resting my head on his lap, looking up at him as I tell him some story from my first year here in the city, while he strokes my chest with his hand and listens, glimmers of happiness in his strong, handsome eyes.
Richie is only here for the day. His flight home is tomorrow, and then we’re back to reality until he can make another trip here to visit. We both seem to be outwardly okay with the idea, but I’m sure that secretly, neither of us want to be alone. “Stay the night here with me instead,” I offer. “We can make this dream last a little longer … if you don’t mind your hotel room going to waste for tonight.”
