on. I want to try. And there's never going to be anyone I trust more than I trust you. So I want to try it with you."
"Um, okay, if you really want to."
"Do you?"
I said, "I've been wanting your cock in my ass for a long time."
He jolted. "I thought...you want me to fuck you ?"
"Sure. Why not? I bottomed for Henri a lot more than I topped, although we were both versatile. Why start with the thing most likely to make you freak out when there are other options on the menu that we both can enjoy?"
He was looking a lot less anxious, happier, and excited. "You think? You'd like doing that?"
"We need lots of lube," I told him. "I haven't done this in a long time. But God, yes. I want to." I slid out from under him. "Just let me run to the bathroom first."
When I got back he was sitting on the couch watching me. His cock was only semi-hard. I slid to my knees in front of him and fixed that with hands and mouth. After a few minutes he pulled me up. "I still want to."
"Good." I kissed him, wet and sloppy. "Because I'm more than fucking ready. Scoot over and let me in underneath you. And get the lube."
He reached under the couch. We had some there, since a lot of skin play went better with a little lubrication. He opened the tube and then hesitated. "Condom?"
"We've both tested," I told him. I'd insisted, after he told me about his step-father, all the STDs and a TB test. And I'd tested myself again, for solidarity and because in truth there were times when I was drinking when I didn't remember what I'd done. We'd both come up negative. "Between you and me, we're okay. But if you ever do this with anyone else, I don't care if it's the pope, you wear protection. Promise me."
"Of course," he said.
Memories of Henri made me want to hammer that home some more, but it wasn't as if he hadn't heard me rant about it before. Now was not the time to spoil the mood. I scooted up a little on the bath towel we kept spread over the couch, and opened my legs. "Baby." He glanced up startled. Damn, I'd made a vow not to call him that outside of my own head. I just went on. "Do you want to do the prep work, or watch while I do?"
"I don't..." He stared back down at my ass and from the jerk of his cock it wasn't a turn-off for him. "What do I do?"
I passed him the lube. "Put a bunch of that on your fingers. There's no such thing as using too much. You need to open me up to take your cock. Start with one finger."
He looked doubtful but did as I said. He dripped the gel on his fingertips and then carefully stroked me before tentatively pressing in.
"Harder," I told him. God, I could almost get off just from that touch and the look on his face. I wrapped my fingers tight around the base of my own cock. "You need to make my ass open up for you. Go on. You won't hurt me." He pushed harder, and then grunted in surprise as his finger slid inside me. I felt that stretch and burn, so sweetly familiar. I pinched harder with my fingers around my cock and closed my eyes against the sight of him. "Okay, when I loosen up a bit, go for two fingers and then three."
He played around a little, stroking in me, as I tried to convince my ass that we'd done this before and loved it. Two fingers was easy. Three fingers burned again, but it was gone quickly. I could feel myself opening up to this, like a plant in the desert expanding to take the long-awaited rain. He didn't know where to touch me inside, and it was probably a good thing. I was past ready.
"Okay, lube yourself up well and then do it."
He pulled his fingers out and stared down at me as he slicked his long, sweet shaft. "Don't you need to turn over?"
"Nope. Want to see your face when you come. Want to kiss you while you slide inside me."
"I didn't know we could." He leaned forward, guiding himself to my wet, prepared opening. I raised my legs around him, heels planted on the couch rather than wrapped around his hips. I bucked up, easing the angle, and he slid home.
"Holy shit!" He paused,
"Um, okay, if you really want to."
"Do you?"
I said, "I've been wanting your cock in my ass for a long time."
He jolted. "I thought...you want me to fuck you ?"
"Sure. Why not? I bottomed for Henri a lot more than I topped, although we were both versatile. Why start with the thing most likely to make you freak out when there are other options on the menu that we both can enjoy?"
He was looking a lot less anxious, happier, and excited. "You think? You'd like doing that?"
"We need lots of lube," I told him. "I haven't done this in a long time. But God, yes. I want to." I slid out from under him. "Just let me run to the bathroom first."
When I got back he was sitting on the couch watching me. His cock was only semi-hard. I slid to my knees in front of him and fixed that with hands and mouth. After a few minutes he pulled me up. "I still want to."
"Good." I kissed him, wet and sloppy. "Because I'm more than fucking ready. Scoot over and let me in underneath you. And get the lube."
He reached under the couch. We had some there, since a lot of skin play went better with a little lubrication. He opened the tube and then hesitated. "Condom?"
"We've both tested," I told him. I'd insisted, after he told me about his step-father, all the STDs and a TB test. And I'd tested myself again, for solidarity and because in truth there were times when I was drinking when I didn't remember what I'd done. We'd both come up negative. "Between you and me, we're okay. But if you ever do this with anyone else, I don't care if it's the pope, you wear protection. Promise me."
"Of course," he said.
Memories of Henri made me want to hammer that home some more, but it wasn't as if he hadn't heard me rant about it before. Now was not the time to spoil the mood. I scooted up a little on the bath towel we kept spread over the couch, and opened my legs. "Baby." He glanced up startled. Damn, I'd made a vow not to call him that outside of my own head. I just went on. "Do you want to do the prep work, or watch while I do?"
"I don't..." He stared back down at my ass and from the jerk of his cock it wasn't a turn-off for him. "What do I do?"
I passed him the lube. "Put a bunch of that on your fingers. There's no such thing as using too much. You need to open me up to take your cock. Start with one finger."
He looked doubtful but did as I said. He dripped the gel on his fingertips and then carefully stroked me before tentatively pressing in.
"Harder," I told him. God, I could almost get off just from that touch and the look on his face. I wrapped my fingers tight around the base of my own cock. "You need to make my ass open up for you. Go on. You won't hurt me." He pushed harder, and then grunted in surprise as his finger slid inside me. I felt that stretch and burn, so sweetly familiar. I pinched harder with my fingers around my cock and closed my eyes against the sight of him. "Okay, when I loosen up a bit, go for two fingers and then three."
He played around a little, stroking in me, as I tried to convince my ass that we'd done this before and loved it. Two fingers was easy. Three fingers burned again, but it was gone quickly. I could feel myself opening up to this, like a plant in the desert expanding to take the long-awaited rain. He didn't know where to touch me inside, and it was probably a good thing. I was past ready.
"Okay, lube yourself up well and then do it."
He pulled his fingers out and stared down at me as he slicked his long, sweet shaft. "Don't you need to turn over?"
"Nope. Want to see your face when you come. Want to kiss you while you slide inside me."
"I didn't know we could." He leaned forward, guiding himself to my wet, prepared opening. I raised my legs around him, heels planted on the couch rather than wrapped around his hips. I bucked up, easing the angle, and he slid home.
"Holy shit!" He paused,
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