dance of tongues that defied the raging insistence of my dick. My pelvis wasn’t touching anything more than air, but I was still a heartbeat from coming.
With anyone else, the destination would already be clear at this point—hell, most guys were quick to assume that I’d bottom, and I was usually only too happy to go along with it. A fast conversation about the where/when/how subbed for foreplay with plenty of hookups. But this was different. There was no destination. We were already there, hands tangled in hair, lips dragging across stubbled skin, mingled breath, synchronized heartbeat.
We rolled on the bed, him ending up sprawled half on me. Each movement was infused with so much . . . joy. Joy. That was it. I didn’t think I’d ever had that—the almost giddy pleasure of simply being in this place at this time, knowing that we’d actually made it to this moment. His touch held a sense of wonder I didn’t think I’d ever had, even as a teen. He smiled down at me, a shy expression, as if he was amazed I hadn’t disappeared.
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but words failed me when he circled my nipple with a blunt fingertip. Sucking on my shoulder, his hand skated down my torso. The air-conditioning in his apartment was cool, but his mouth was hot and his skin scorching. The press of his chest against mine spread heat throughout me, a delicious lick of pleasure that made me shift against him until our groins aligned. All at once, the room seemed brighter, the sound of our breathing louder, the scent of our sweat stronger—everything lit up as our dicks slid against each other for the first time.
“ Fuck.” David gasped against my mouth.
“Love it when you say fuck.” I chuckled against his neck. He could take that as an invitation if he wanted, but this was pretty damn perfect. My fantasy earlier in the evening paled next to the reality of his big body rocking into mine, his weight balanced on his elbows.
“You make me wish I knew a lot more dirty words.” Stretching, he uncurled one arm to link hands with me. Desperate for more skin, I snaked my free hand down to the waistband of his boxers. He got the message, and we both wiggled until the last scraps of fabric were gone and we were down to nothing but skin. And then perfect shifted, redefined to this, us, hands linked, hips slowly undulating against each other, his silky hot length dragging against my own, a slow wave of pleasure building from deep inside, every cell humming.
I could read his pleasure in the little huffs of breath against my cheek, in the tension in his palms, in the shudders racing through him every time our cockheads dragged against each other.
It was the most leisurely climb of my life—my balls throbbed with the need to come, but neither of us picked up speed. Just kept kissing and rocking. Small movements became everything; he sucked on my tongue and my balls lifted. I squeezed our interlaced fingers and he groaned like I’d put a hand on his dick. Tonguing my ear, his breath felt like licks of fire down every nerve ending in my back.
“ Robby.” My name was husky and tender on his lips and the sound was almost enough to push me over. “So. Close.”
And then that did it—knowing he was right there, that the desperation and hunger wasn’t all on my side, that he was riding the same wave. I pushed up, grinding hard against his flat stomach as the first spasms hit me. I felt him go seconds later, a harsh groan and splash of heat against my belly.
Pressing a kiss against my forehead, he flopped next to me. I drifted along on the last of the heady wave of pleasure, muscles getting heavy as sleep threatened to claim me.
“Let me get a towel.” David didn’t seem to be suffering from the same near-brain-dead fatigue I was as he hopped off the bed and went to a bathroom across the hall. Tossing me a brown towel, he pulled on fresh boxers.
“Holy moly. I’m not sure I’ve ever come twice in an hour
With anyone else, the destination would already be clear at this point—hell, most guys were quick to assume that I’d bottom, and I was usually only too happy to go along with it. A fast conversation about the where/when/how subbed for foreplay with plenty of hookups. But this was different. There was no destination. We were already there, hands tangled in hair, lips dragging across stubbled skin, mingled breath, synchronized heartbeat.
We rolled on the bed, him ending up sprawled half on me. Each movement was infused with so much . . . joy. Joy. That was it. I didn’t think I’d ever had that—the almost giddy pleasure of simply being in this place at this time, knowing that we’d actually made it to this moment. His touch held a sense of wonder I didn’t think I’d ever had, even as a teen. He smiled down at me, a shy expression, as if he was amazed I hadn’t disappeared.
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but words failed me when he circled my nipple with a blunt fingertip. Sucking on my shoulder, his hand skated down my torso. The air-conditioning in his apartment was cool, but his mouth was hot and his skin scorching. The press of his chest against mine spread heat throughout me, a delicious lick of pleasure that made me shift against him until our groins aligned. All at once, the room seemed brighter, the sound of our breathing louder, the scent of our sweat stronger—everything lit up as our dicks slid against each other for the first time.
“ Fuck.” David gasped against my mouth.
“Love it when you say fuck.” I chuckled against his neck. He could take that as an invitation if he wanted, but this was pretty damn perfect. My fantasy earlier in the evening paled next to the reality of his big body rocking into mine, his weight balanced on his elbows.
“You make me wish I knew a lot more dirty words.” Stretching, he uncurled one arm to link hands with me. Desperate for more skin, I snaked my free hand down to the waistband of his boxers. He got the message, and we both wiggled until the last scraps of fabric were gone and we were down to nothing but skin. And then perfect shifted, redefined to this, us, hands linked, hips slowly undulating against each other, his silky hot length dragging against my own, a slow wave of pleasure building from deep inside, every cell humming.
I could read his pleasure in the little huffs of breath against my cheek, in the tension in his palms, in the shudders racing through him every time our cockheads dragged against each other.
It was the most leisurely climb of my life—my balls throbbed with the need to come, but neither of us picked up speed. Just kept kissing and rocking. Small movements became everything; he sucked on my tongue and my balls lifted. I squeezed our interlaced fingers and he groaned like I’d put a hand on his dick. Tonguing my ear, his breath felt like licks of fire down every nerve ending in my back.
“ Robby.” My name was husky and tender on his lips and the sound was almost enough to push me over. “So. Close.”
And then that did it—knowing he was right there, that the desperation and hunger wasn’t all on my side, that he was riding the same wave. I pushed up, grinding hard against his flat stomach as the first spasms hit me. I felt him go seconds later, a harsh groan and splash of heat against my belly.
Pressing a kiss against my forehead, he flopped next to me. I drifted along on the last of the heady wave of pleasure, muscles getting heavy as sleep threatened to claim me.
“Let me get a towel.” David didn’t seem to be suffering from the same near-brain-dead fatigue I was as he hopped off the bed and went to a bathroom across the hall. Tossing me a brown towel, he pulled on fresh boxers.
“Holy moly. I’m not sure I’ve ever come twice in an hour
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