me,” he said. He kissed me, and our teeth gnashed. My T-shirt came off in his pull. He licked his way down to my abs and the soft patch of hair that led into my pants, and he snapped open my jeans.
“Eric.” I fisted his hair.
He shucked my pants and underwear at the same time. I groaned; my cock sprang out and he took it in his mouth.
“Gawd!” I yelled.
He mumbled, sucked, and with a free hand palmed my shaft.
“Holy shit!” Grabbing the back of his neck, I fucked his mouth, sticking my dick in farther.
He choked a little, and I pulled back, but he went back down on it.
“Fuck.” I moaned. My head rolled like a rag doll and banged against the door. His sucking felt so good, a tremor came over me, and my elbowed rapped the jamb.
With his hand, he jerked my wet cock, his tongue circling my head. No one had ever done anything so pleasurable to me before. For a second, I thought I was going to shoot off right in his face. I yanked him off.
“Quin, your cock...you...you’re so fucking hot,” he said and started back on my cock.
I looked down and noticed he’d undone his pants and had his dick in his hand. “Get up,” I said firmly and yanked him by the hair like he’d done to me. He liked it a little rough—I could tell—and it turned me on more.
He obeyed and stood, dick still in hand. I pointed to the bed and he shuffled over to it—pants locked around his ankles.
I followed and shoved him, stomach first, onto the Indian-print spread. The bed squeaked.
Slapping my dick onto his ass, traces of clear liquid lined his lower back. I wrapped my cock around his firm butt cheeks, fucked them, and watched my dick slide and slither along his coccyx.
“Are. You. Going. To. Fuck me?” He rocked with each word.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes!” He shot up, ripping the bedspread off at the same time, grabbed me by my neck and brought us down onto the bed. I landed on top of him, our dicks pressed together. My hips, in a mind of their own, rocked. Slick wet dicks rubbed against each other.
We kissed, and I frot his cock faster and harder. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to fuck his ass but we were so close, riding the edge of our orgasms.
“Quin!”
“Eric!”
“Let’s come,” he said. “And you can fuck me afterward. We’ve got all night.”
I slammed hard into the crook of his crotch and could feel his wet penis beside mine.
He screamed. I put my hand on his mouth, and he bit down. He closed his eyes and moaned into my fist.
Feeling his warm semen squirt up through our pressed abs made me come too. It proved too exciting to hold back any longer and I let loose, biting my lower lip so hard I tasted blood. I convulsed until my fuck begot a slower tempo, and I eventually rolled onto my back.
Eric put his arm to his head. Sweat stained the pits of his shirt. “That was fucking hot.”
“Frotting.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called frotting,” I said, breathless. “As teenagers, we called it dry humping and would brag about having done it with some of the girls, but with clothes on.”
“Oh, is that what it was called. No wonder I got into wrestling at an early age.”
A twinge of jealousy—him frotting with someone else—momentarily reared, but some unspeakable connection between us overruled it. “So, wrestling boy, what’s next?”
He got up on an elbow and looked straight at me. “I want you in me.”
“Ten minutes?” I said, still out of breath.
“Five.”
****
I ’d never been in anything as tight as Eric’s hole. Even using the whole packet of lube, I still worried I’d tear the condom.
Eventually I popped in, and I swore I thought I heard him cry, but he took it like a man and only whimpered, biting into the pillow. His sphincter felt like a vise. At one point, I thought my cock would slice off—or at least need a slap back to life from lack of circulation.
“Good God!” I wedged my way in deeper, my hands gripping his taut waist.
After several pushes, he
“Eric.” I fisted his hair.
He shucked my pants and underwear at the same time. I groaned; my cock sprang out and he took it in his mouth.
“Gawd!” I yelled.
He mumbled, sucked, and with a free hand palmed my shaft.
“Holy shit!” Grabbing the back of his neck, I fucked his mouth, sticking my dick in farther.
He choked a little, and I pulled back, but he went back down on it.
“Fuck.” I moaned. My head rolled like a rag doll and banged against the door. His sucking felt so good, a tremor came over me, and my elbowed rapped the jamb.
With his hand, he jerked my wet cock, his tongue circling my head. No one had ever done anything so pleasurable to me before. For a second, I thought I was going to shoot off right in his face. I yanked him off.
“Quin, your cock...you...you’re so fucking hot,” he said and started back on my cock.
I looked down and noticed he’d undone his pants and had his dick in his hand. “Get up,” I said firmly and yanked him by the hair like he’d done to me. He liked it a little rough—I could tell—and it turned me on more.
He obeyed and stood, dick still in hand. I pointed to the bed and he shuffled over to it—pants locked around his ankles.
I followed and shoved him, stomach first, onto the Indian-print spread. The bed squeaked.
Slapping my dick onto his ass, traces of clear liquid lined his lower back. I wrapped my cock around his firm butt cheeks, fucked them, and watched my dick slide and slither along his coccyx.
“Are. You. Going. To. Fuck me?” He rocked with each word.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes!” He shot up, ripping the bedspread off at the same time, grabbed me by my neck and brought us down onto the bed. I landed on top of him, our dicks pressed together. My hips, in a mind of their own, rocked. Slick wet dicks rubbed against each other.
We kissed, and I frot his cock faster and harder. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to fuck his ass but we were so close, riding the edge of our orgasms.
“Quin!”
“Eric!”
“Let’s come,” he said. “And you can fuck me afterward. We’ve got all night.”
I slammed hard into the crook of his crotch and could feel his wet penis beside mine.
He screamed. I put my hand on his mouth, and he bit down. He closed his eyes and moaned into my fist.
Feeling his warm semen squirt up through our pressed abs made me come too. It proved too exciting to hold back any longer and I let loose, biting my lower lip so hard I tasted blood. I convulsed until my fuck begot a slower tempo, and I eventually rolled onto my back.
Eric put his arm to his head. Sweat stained the pits of his shirt. “That was fucking hot.”
“Frotting.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called frotting,” I said, breathless. “As teenagers, we called it dry humping and would brag about having done it with some of the girls, but with clothes on.”
“Oh, is that what it was called. No wonder I got into wrestling at an early age.”
A twinge of jealousy—him frotting with someone else—momentarily reared, but some unspeakable connection between us overruled it. “So, wrestling boy, what’s next?”
He got up on an elbow and looked straight at me. “I want you in me.”
“Ten minutes?” I said, still out of breath.
“Five.”
****
I ’d never been in anything as tight as Eric’s hole. Even using the whole packet of lube, I still worried I’d tear the condom.
Eventually I popped in, and I swore I thought I heard him cry, but he took it like a man and only whimpered, biting into the pillow. His sphincter felt like a vise. At one point, I thought my cock would slice off—or at least need a slap back to life from lack of circulation.
“Good God!” I wedged my way in deeper, my hands gripping his taut waist.
After several pushes, he
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