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Holden steps closer to me. He’s barely an inch away, and I can feel his breath against my shoulder as he slips his hand into my pajama pants and fists my cock. I jolt slightly and moan.
“So responsive,” he murmurs. “I want you to fuck me again. Do you want that?”
I peel my eyelids open and meet his hooded stare.
God, he’s gorgeous—his hair windswept and slightly tangled, his eyes so fucking blue.
“Give me a nod. Anything,” he says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
My chin tips down just a fraction, but it’s enough.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this again. But I am. I so fucking am.
His hand lets go of my cock, and then he’s leading me over to the bed.
From his pocket, he produces a small container, and I recognize it as lube.
“Came prepared. Boy Scout and all that,” he says as he pushes on my chest. My ass bounces on the mattress, the bedframe rattling under my weight.
“It’s a special recipe. Make it myself.”
I don’t know what that means, and I’m only half listening, watching intently as he pulls his clothes off, his body exposed to me one bit at a time until he’s completely naked.
His cock is hard and straining out toward me, a bead of precum sitting on the end. How did I end up here? Why am I doing this?
He steps between my legs and presses against my shoulders, and I fall back. I stare up at the ceiling as he works my pajama pants off, and I feel the air hit my hard cock the minute it’s free. My eyes travel down to Holden, and I watch as he climbs onto the bed, straddling me.
He tears open a condom and rolls it onto my dick, and the sensation of it makes my hands clench the sheets beneath me.
“God, you’re so big all over,” he practically purrs, lubing me up and then moving his fingers behind him. I know he’s stuffing himself full so he can take me, and I can’t do anything but watch as he does it.
I’ve watched some gay porn, out of curiosity, so I know how it goes, know how important prep is. But somehow, watching this in real life is ten times better than what I saw on the computer screen.
My dick positively aches.
“Still not gay?” Holden asks with a smirk as he scoots up and places my cock at his hole. Before I can even formulate an answer, he sinks down, my length sliding into him in one long thrust.
“God,” I breathe as I feel his wet heat swallow me. I cannot breathe. This is just as good as the first time, better even.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Holden groans, his head thrown back, his fingers digging into my stomach as he puts his full weight on me. My hands don’t know what to do. What the fuck do they do? I just hold on to the sheets beneath me for dear life as he lifts up and slams back down onto me.
My entire body vibrates from the sensation, and I roll my lips between my teeth to keep any sounds inside.
I will not make a fucking sound.
But Holden isn’t quiet. No, he’s groaning and whimpering as he rides me, his entire body loose and tight and fucking free. What would that be like? To be so fucking out of your mind and body that you can actually enjoy shit?
I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. But this, right here, is pretty damn close.
His hand wraps around his cock, and I watch as he jacks himself lazily as he rides me. I can feel my impending orgasm move through me, working its way down my spine and to my balls. Maybe it’s the weed doing things to my libido. Or maybe it’s just him. Maybe he has this effect on me.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he moans as his hips move faster and faster until our skin slaps together noisily.
And there it is—the urge to come. I have to fucking come.
I gasp and arch up as I explode into the condom, my entire body shuddering just as Holden’s cum spurts across my stomach.
We shake and shudder and pant for long moments until there’s nothing but silence.
