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He rips his eyes from my ass to me, lips parted.
“Fuck me already,” I say.
He raises the corner of his lips, a “ha” escaping him. His free hand — the one not teasing my asshole — appears out of nowhere, pushing my head back into the pillow so that all I can see is darkness.
“Don’t worry,” he says, sounding breathless. Breathless. “I’m going to take care of you.”
His fingers slip out of me, making me feel empty. There’s the rustle of clothing coming off, and when I try to look around to have a peek, his hand keeps me looking into the pillow.
“Just relax,” he tells me.
He removes his hand from my head, but I don’t raise it. Maybe I don’t want to look. Maybe I don’t want to confront the reality that Lucas — Lucas, with all of the conflicting emotions I have associated with him — is about to fuck me.
Something tears. A condom wrapper. So he did have condoms and lube after all. I wonder where he had hidden them.
Before I can ponder the mystery any longer, I’m distracted by one hand on my ass, his thumb spreading my buttock. The other hand slicks up my hole with extra lubricant, and then Lucas shifts on the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. I feel the heat of him moving closer. He exhales unsteadily and then —
I suck my stomach in, tense with anticipation, when something blunt nudges against my hole. He starts to push in, but I make a noise against the pillow and he stops.
Oh, hell. The head of his cock is huge — I can feel it throbbing against my entrance. How the fuck is he going to fit?
The moment of pause makes me think. Do I really want him inside me?
Do I really want Lucas inside me? Do I really want to have sex with Lucas? Lucas, my childhood friend. Lucas, my high school enemy. Lucas, my roommate. Lucas, who slept with my girlfriend.
But my ass feels so empty. My prostate is screaming for stimulation. My dick has been as hard as a rock for ages. All I want is to come. I want release.
Screw it. I’m not capable of rational thought anyway, not when Lucas’s velvet soft cockhead is pressed against my hole.
So, I take a deep breath and cant my hips back, trying to push onto Lucas’s member. His fingers tighten on my butt cheek, and he slowly presses his cock inside. I squeeze my eyes closed as it burns, but once the tip is past the tight entrance, things get easier. The rest of him is still huge, but not as thick as the tip, so he works the rest in with relative ease.
It’s a tight fit inside, and when he bumps against my prostate, everything goes white and I instinctively squeeze down on him. It’s so good —
Lucas grunts. “Oh fuck,” he says, voice lower than a whisper. “That’s good. That’s so fucking good.”
He pulls back, then thrusts in, the bulbous head of his cock slamming against that bundle of nerves inside me, and my balls tighten. I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing what’s going to happen before it does.
Every muscle in my body goes tense before suddenly relaxing as pleasure floods my body, surging from the pit of my belly to the rest of my body. My dick twitches as it shoots cum all over Lucas’s black bed sheets, and it’s sticky and warm against my lower stomach.
Only after the shock of the sensation ebbs away and I’ve fallen limp against the bed, do I have the capacity to hear Lucas behind me. He’s breathing heavily, harder than after jogging ten kilometres, harder than after intense volleyball games. Harder than tough gym sessions.
Something damp presses against my shoulder. His forehead. He’s whispering something against my skin, too low for me to hear, but it’s fast and quick, almost crazed as he thrusts again and again, hitting the sensitive place inside me. It’s so, so sensitive. I don’t know if I can handle it anymore —
And then he finishes with a low moan, shoving himself deep inside me one last time. I tense, expecting him to collapse on top of me, but he holds himself up with his forearms as he pants, his breaths tickling my hair.
We lie like that for a minute before Lucas peels himself off me. Sweat cools on my back, making me feel slightly chilly, and the globs of cum under my stomach are starting to dry.
Lucas moves around behind me before something soft brushes over my tender ass. I look over my shoulder and watch him clean up the remnants of lube with a bundled-up handful of cloth. It takes me another moment to realise it’s his t-shirt.
When he gently rolls me over, I let him, and he wipes up the cum on my stomach and what’s left on the bedsheets. Part of me expects him to be annoyed — he’s going to have to do laundry — but he looks surprisingly pleased, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. I’m still waiting for it all to hit me — for the post-nut clarity to slam into me like an eighteen-wheeler and make me start screaming in horror. But it doesn’t. I just feel…warm.
Lucas throws his shirt onto the floor before lying down on the bed beside me. I watch, waiting for the conversation. Waiting for something.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he raises my body with ease and repositions me so that I’m lying on his extended arm, then pulls me close.
My eyelids are heavy. I’m exhausted, and all I did was lie there. I don’t think I’ve had an orgasm like that since…never, actually. It’s so different, doing it with someone, compared to a silicone toy.
