by Xavier Mayne
His breath grew ragged, and his knees began to quiver as if I really were sucking the life out of him. But he pushed back harder on me, forcing himself on me, pulling me in deeper. Into the hot, yielding muscle I pushed my tongue, and he welcomed me inside. I pressed my cheeks against his, shoving my tongue into him as far—and as wide—as I could. I gripped his slender hips and held him against my face, feeling his legs tremble as I fucked him with my tongue.
“Fuck… me… now,” he panted. “Fuck… me… please.”
Like there was any other way.
“Please.” He said “please.” Donnelly heard without trying to hear but then realized he had been listening all along.
What Sandler was about to discover, a strange land he was about to explore for the first time, was something Donnelly had experienced only once in his life. With Brandt. Which was enough for him, he reminded himself.
He heard Sandler shuffling and imagined the creaking of the sofa-bed springs were the waiter mounting it, making himself ready on hands and knees while Sandler tore open a condom wrapper. He could picture it as clearly as if he were in the room watching.
And then he realized he was lying in bed, alone, naked, picturing two men having sex.
He’d never done that before.
He was on his hands and knees, that beautiful ass thrust back and upward, still shiny from my spit. I could still taste it on my tongue. I came up behind him, running my hands all along that perfect flesh.
He sighed and shifted his weight impatiently, a colt eager to be saddled, tamed—or to seduce an unsuspecting rider into mounting. For the ride of his life.
I slid my arm under his hips and lifted—he was so light—and flipped him on his back.
“I want to see you,” I said. “I want to kiss you.”
He smiled so widely I was charmed all over again by his sexy sweetness.
I rolled the condom on, slicked it up, and then—gently, slowly—introduced a lubed-up finger. He closed his eyes and sighed as my finger entered him, and I played for a little while with him, opening him, warming him up. I didn’t want to hurt him.
His smile faltered only for a moment, as his lips formed a silent “Oh.” But then it broadened out again, and his eyes opened.
“Okay?”
“Yessss,” he whispered.
I slipped a second finger in. He lurched up but settled right back down, wiggling his hips as he adjusted to the fullness. A new expression formed on his face, this one eager, hungry. I pushed a little harder, in and toward me, and found the hint of a prostate right where I knew it would be. I felt around it, then pressed my fingertip into it, just a little, and watched his eyebrows peak in surprise. He arched his back, and his palms flattened against the bed as he leveraged himself up even higher, pushing himself toward me while also squirming away as if the stimulation were too much for him to bear. He danced like an adorable puppet on my fingers for a while until finally he opened his eyes and spoke the word I’d been waiting to hear.
“Now.” Ankur’s voice was deep and strong, all of his youthful reserve evaporated by the heat of his excitement.
I did as I was told.
“Now.”
That word. Donnelly was suddenly back in his bedroom—the bedroom that he now shared with Brandt—but before it was “our” bedroom. Before they knew.
He could see Brandt on the screen, nervous, anxious, pretending to be excited—but Donnelly knew him better than that. He was ashamed, mortified. He was naked.
Naked because Donnelly had just commanded him to take off the bright red jockstrap he had been wearing. The one Donnelly had chosen for him to wear. He had slipped it off, and now he lay naked, facedown, clearly terrified.
Donnelly had seen him naked hundreds of times over the two years they’d been partners on the force, but never like this. Never could he have taken a long moment to trace the muscles of his legs all the way up to where they blossomed into full, powerful buttocks. Never had he let himself acknowledge the beauty of his best friend.
But now there was nowhere to hide those feelings. His emotions were no more hidden than their bodies—he had taken off his clothes so Brandt wouldn’t be alone in his nudity. He could no longer deny what he felt for this man he knew so well but had never really seen before.
Having studied his back in all its masculine wonder, he wanted to see the front. He had to know if Brandt was as inexplicably excited as he was, had to see whether he was erect as well from this insane game they were playing. For the first time in his life, he wanted—needed—to see another man’s penis. No, that’s not right. He needed to see Ethan Brandt’s penis. He needed to see it erect, hard, obscene. He had to know he wasn’t alone. And so he commanded him to turn over.
“Now.”
I lifted his legs and touched my painfully hard cock to his winking ass. I pushed, just a little, and felt him open to me. He sucked in a little breath, but his eyes widened with pleasure, not pain, and so I pushed a little more.
I bent down to him, and he wrapped his hands around my neck, pulling me close. Our lips touched, gently, and I slowly nibbled my way from one corner of his mouth to the other, like we had all the time in the world.
My penis thought otherwise.
As we kissed, our bodies aligned somehow, and I slipped farther into him. His intense heat enveloped another inch of my cock, then another.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Come on.”
I lifted my head, and with my nose almost touching his so I could watch his eyes, I tensed my hips and felt more of my cock enter him. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little—he was smiling. Then he reached down and grabbed hold of my ass.
“Oh my,” I said, sounding stupidly prim in my surprise.
“Come on,” he said, more certainly now, his voice lower. He wasn’t encouraging me; he was commanding me. His strong hands pulled me into him.
I hesitated. I know it sounds arrogant, but I’ve been here before. I’ve had guys be enthusiastic about me fucking them until I get a few inches in, and then things fall apart. The bottom line is, I get pretty thick at the base—one guy said the first four inches were heaven, and the last four were hell.
We were about at the four-inch mark.
But his grip on my ass didn’t slacken—I think it’s going to leave a mark, actually—so I pushed forward. I saw it in his eyebrows first: they rose in the middle, the creases between them ragged and twitchy. Then a growl from his throat, deep and urgent. But his fingertips, strong from stacking glasses and bussing heavy plates, dug into my ass and spurred me on.
And then my hips met his lovely round ass, and I was fully inside him.
“Fuck,” he said, drawing out the word to about seven syllables on an exhalation that seemed to evaporate every tension in his body. He released my ass from his iron grip and threw his arms around me, pulling me close again, overwhelming me with kisses.
I know better than to pull back right away—I wanted him to get used to me inside him—so I just rotated my hips a little, giving him a wiggle-wiggle rather than a thrust. He moaned and matched my motions, and we spent a long while just grinding on each other.
“Okay?” I asked.
He nodded—he knew exactly what I was asking—and smiled, as if anticipating what was to come.
I drew back a little, and pushed forward a little, and he smiled even more widely. He nodded, just to be sure I got the message.
“Come on,” he said again, and this time it was a challenge.
Oh, it was so on.
I started slowly, pulling back a little more, and when the head of my cock brushed his prostate he gave a jolt, his face an explosion of joy. I pushed forward a bit to hit that spot again and was rewarded with another spasm of pleasure that seemed to electrify his entire body. I fell into an easy rhythm of slow transits, hitting that magic spot every time, rewarded every time with a tightening twitch of the muscles in his ass. With my elbows on the bed next to his shoulders, I could cradle his head in my h
ands. We were in contact along our entire bodies, and every thrust I made was answered by the tightening of muscles and sinews everywhere on him. This was his entire essence: perfect skin and pure muscle, a broad smile and lively eyes.
“Okay?” he asked.
“More than okay,” I answered, kissing him again.
Then I felt it. He was clamping down on me, using his ass in some tantric voodoo super-Kegel thing that took my fucking breath away. His ass gripped my entire cock, from root to tip, in a way I’d never felt before.
“Now,” he said once more. This time it was with the assurance of a thousand-year-old Buddha, a god who knows fulfillment inheres in the utterance of his command.
I had no choice. The orgasm was upon me before I knew what was happening, was forced on me by the milking of his mystical ass. To stave it off for a moment, to make it last a little longer, I gritted my teeth and grunted against it, but it was no use. This orgasm wanted me, and it would have me.
Donnelly had only ever heard Brandt orgasm, and from the first—which he hadn’t even seen firsthand, captured as it was on video by a sex-cam website—to the last, he knew the sound of every breath he took, every kind of pleasure of which his body was capable. Brandt was his entire world when it came to sex. And yet he recognized instantly the sound of Sandler reaching an anguished climax.
Donnelly was hard in an instant.
As Sandler’s voice rose in pitch and his gasps came more frequently, Donnelly’s erection began to bob in time. He reached down to it and found to his surprise that the head of his cock was already wet.
Sandler’s moaning grew more plaintive and was filled with such a yearning that Donnelly felt it in his own loins. He stroked harder now, banishing all rational thought about how perverted it was to jack off while listening to a friend have sex in the next room. He’d been away from Brandt for only a few days and hadn’t touched himself during that time. Now his cock was demanding attention, and he had no choice but to give it.
He threw back the covers. In the soft glow afforded by the night-light in the bathroom, he could see his cock silhouetted, standing ruler straight as he gripped it tightly at its base. He spat into his hand, and his saliva mixed with precum to slick up the entire length. He stroked in time with Sandler’s grunting, growling moaning, and they both sped up as the end drew near.
Donnelly felt Sandler’s voice deep in his muscles, as if the other man were conjuring his orgasm. The thrill of this forbidden connection shocked him.
But it wouldn’t keep him from coming.
I came.
That doesn’t begin to describe what it felt like, but it’s the best I can do, since there just aren’t words to describe the orgasm he created for me. It was enough to make me ponder taking up a life on the sea so Ankur and I could travel the world and I could fuck him every day just like this, and he could do that thing with his ass and all would be perfect in the world.
I kept coming.
It seemed to last forever, until I was sure the condom would burst from the sheer Niagaric volume of my semen. I pictured the tip blown up like a balloon animal at the circus.
Finally I had come.
“That was… amazing,” I said with a sigh, collapsing onto him in elated exhaustion.
“You are the best I’ve ever had,” he whispered, then kissed my ear softly.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the passengers,” I replied.
He looked stricken. “No,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “No.”
He was so sweet and earnest that I couldn’t help but be charmed by him all over again. “Wait until you see what else I can do,” I whispered into his ear, then kissed my way down the side of his neck, and over those perfect mounds of pectoral muscle, and then down across his hard and still panting abs, then down.
His cock was hard—diamond-cutting hard—and perfectly shaped along its six or so inches. He was uncut, and his foreskin slid easily up and down, gliding effortlessly on the shiny slickness my jabbing of his prostate had produced. I stroked him, entranced by the motion of his skin—like most Americans of my generation, I was robbed of mine soon after birth—and he moaned as if my rough caress was the best thing he’d ever felt.
Determined to repay him for the pleasure he’d given me, I swooped down on his cock and took it all in, all the way to the base, holding the slender stiffness in my mouth for a long moment before coming back up. He writhed, clutching at the sheets, and bucked up and down, ab muscles tensing in and out of view with every motion.
I plunged down again, pressing my nose against the soft hair of his groin, desperate to get every bit of him into me. I growled out my pleasure, knowing the vibration would transmit into him, rumble his very core. The high, needy whine he was making told me all I needed to know.
I lifted up and let him go, just for a moment, so I could suck his lovely smooth balls into my mouth. He gasped in a desperate breath, but I held them, swirled my tongue around them, tugged a bit at them before letting them plop out of my mouth. I gobbled down his cock, tasting its renewed slickness as I felt it pass between my eager lips.
A precious few moments of slurping at his erection brought him to a frantic ecstasy, kicking and scrabbling at the sheets. As he thrust into me, hips rising off the mattress in his frenzy, I slipped a finger into his still-loose and still-lubed ass and his prostate came right to my fingertip, firm and more pronounced than before. He was close. I ran my finger over it, and his gasping let me know he felt it. I pushed. Hard.
The spasms started instantly. I felt them at my fingertip, in my hand, in my mouth. His taste changed in that moment, from light and sweet to salty and tangy. He was coming.
His body had been in frantic motion the entire time I’d been sucking him, but at this moment he took a deep breath and the frenzy left him. It was like he hadn’t come but rather arrived—in Nirvana. I felt the tension leave his body, his spine relax. He sighed softly.
“Oh.”
It was a sound of surrender, of relief. As if his body had found peace.
His cock, however, was still all business. Hard and hot, it commandeered my mouth, filling it, thrashing and sloshing about. I swallowed, and it replenished me, then twice, and again. He’d been saving himself for me.
I sucked and licked and swallowed, and as the storm subsided, I pulled up and kissed the pearly droplets that remained on the head of his cock. I didn’t want to miss a bit of his sweet essence. I looked up at him, and he was watching me, a look of puzzlement on his face.
“You don’t have to…,” he said, haltingly.
“Don’t have to do what?” I asked. I smiled up at him, because making someone come is about the best thing in the world, and I always get kind of giddy about it.
“I can clean up,” he offered quietly.
“Don’t you dare,” I replied, and kept lapping at his only slightly softening cock.
“I can’t believe you would do that,” he finally said, his voice mystified.
“I’m doing it because I want to. Because you’re amazing, and you taste so good, and you are about the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
“No one’s ever—” His voice caught, and there were suddenly tears in his eyes.
I kissed the lovely tip of his cock one last time and then kissed my way up his body, his beautiful body. I nuzzled the delicate stubble of his strong jaw and kissed his trembling mouth.
“What is it?” I asked, looking into his eyes.
He shook his head and blinked out the tears.
“Tell me, Ankur.”
“I’ve been with a few passengers,” he said softly.
I nodded encouragingly.
“Not many. Five or six over the year.”
I had assumed the number would be higher—he certainly would have no shortage of offers—but simply nodded again.
“They didn’t care, like you do. Mostly they just wanted me to leave once they had… finished. They didn’t kiss me, or touch me the way you did. And not one o
f them ever called me by name.”
I didn’t know what to say. Tears filled his eyes again, and he closed them tight and nuzzled my neck. The purity of his emotion, the innocence of its expression, filled me with a humble warmth.
“You deserve better than that,” I whispered, then kissed his neck, and his jaw, and his lips.
We kissed. We kissed for a long time. We kissed until his tears dried and his expression lightened. We lay there and smiled a little stupidly at each other for a long, long time.
“And that’s why I found you spooning like prom dates this morning?” Donnelly asked, then sat back and sipped his coffee.
Sandler smiled. “As one-night stands go, it was kind of sappy. But he’s such a great guy. And the sex was un-fucking-believable.”
Donnelly blushed and looked out the window.
“Oh my God, did you hear us?”
“It was fine. I told you not to worry about it.” Donnelly felt a cold sweat creep up his neck.
“What’s the matter?” Sandler asked, concern in his voice.
Donnelly hesitated, unsure what he should say, or whether he should say anything at all. “It’s just that… when I heard you and Ankur… I kind of….” He shrugged helplessly.
Sandler raised an eyebrow. “You kind of… hmm hmm?” He made a subtle wanking motion with his hand.
Donnelly felt the fire in his cheeks flare to three-alarm level. He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… yes.” He opened his eyes to see Sandler beaming at him.
“Awesome.”
“What?” Donnelly asked, bewildered.
“Awesome. After all that talk last night about what it means to be a gay man, I’m really glad that you took advantage of the… opportunity… my adventure with Ankur afforded you.”
“I felt like I was cheating on Ethan,” Donnelly blurted.
“Cheating? How do you figure that?”