When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

by TomNJus

  More to the point, what the fuck could Eric do for Joel that I couldn't?

  Give himself. You stupid, macho man! was the all too obvious answer. He can give himself like you can't.

  That was it. That's what it had taken to convert me. Had Joel asked me to do it, I'd have balked and accused him of trying to change me. But put me in a silent bidding war with Eric and I was ready to pass Joel the lube. It was screwed up. I shouldn't have needed that kind of incentive, but I did.

  I was not going to let Eric outbid me!

  Sweat cooled on my body; I shakily walked over to Joel. The one suspender kept up my open trousers just barely, and my softening cock, sticky and warmly damp against my thigh, played peek-a-boo. I snatched away his glass of scotch and took a swallow, wincing as it burned a fiery trail down my throat.

  "God, how can you drink that?" I croaked, but the heat was what I needed. A little Dutch (or maybe Tartan?) courage. My heart was pounding. Putting the glass aside, I gave Joel a very wet, scotch-tongued kiss. I wanted him identifying me with his favorite liquor; I wanted him to think of getting drunk on me.

  Drawing him to the couch, I pushed him down and got that blue silk shirt off him. I pinched and twisted his hard nipples between thumb and forefingers, gazing deep into his eyes. His lips were still parted with desire from the kiss. I sank to my knees, feeling his heart pounding as I stroked his hairy chest. With hands still unsteady, I unfastened the silver buckle of his crocodile belt and slid it free of the loops. A quick release of the button on his trousers and the zipper came right down. His bulge was hard and ready in his gray shorts, a damp spot waiting. I leaned in and licked at the spot, tasting a musky sweetness captured in the cotton, feeling the round head pressing up against the fabric. It twitched as I licked, asking to come out.

  Joel's breath grew short. Rising up, he let me hook my fingers into his shorts and pants and draw them down. He kicked and struggled to be free of them. I went back to his hairy thighs, nibbling and nuzzling, making him spread his legs. He moaned as I took hold of his cock and drew down the foreskin. There wasn't much to push back. His dick, naked and silky, had already left its sheath behind. The head was shiny with pre-cum. I reached for the lube, wet my hands with it and began to stroke.

  He moaned and brought up his knees, letting his balls swing free. I bent my head, inhaling his fragrance, lapping at his warm, furry sacks even as I tried to keep jacking him. His skin was redolent of sweat and bath soap. My tongue made his heavy balls swing, made the nuts within roll and shift.

  I burrowed lower, at the spot, which, upon me, he'd been rubbing through my Dockers, that smooth, firm spot behind his balls. I licked at it, pressing as hard as I could with my tongue. A deep groan escaped him and now Joel, arms braced on the back of the couch, had his ass lifted and bucking. I licked deeper and deeper into his crack until I stroked over his hole.

  He twitched and gasped and placed his legs on my shoulders, his back sinking down so his ass was higher, spreading open, offering itself to me. All this time, I had at least one hand greasing up his shaft. I let my thumb glide over his slit, mingling lube and pre-cum until it was almost too slick to handle.

  "Fuck, Dev," he groaned, as I sucked and nibbled at soft inner flesh and tongued his earthy crack. "I hope you're ready to go again 'cause I need you."

  My cock gave a twitch, not quite up to it yet, but trying to do as he asked. "I don't need to be ready," I said, coming up for air. Joel's flavor was on my tongue, mingled with the aftertaste of scotch.

  I lifted his legs off my shoulders and got to my feet. Slowly, knowing he'd enjoy it, I let down the other suspender. My trousers fell, pooling at my feet. My throat tightened again, and my pulse raced. I didn't think Joel would mention my taking the bottom role to my friends, but what if they found out? What would they think of me? What would I think of myself, afterwards?

  Even as I wondered about all this, I knew it was nonsense. Why should it matter? It shouldn't. But it did. It mattered to me and I was scared. I sat on the couch and handed Joel the lube. I prayed he could read my mind, so I wouldn't be forced to ask for it aloud.

  Take me, I would say if I had to. That's all. I didn't care how; I didn't even care if it hurt, so long as it won over Joel.

  I rested back on the couch, knees up, and tried to breathe.

  *Joel*

  I watched him drop his pants and sit beside me on the couch. He wore the oddest expression as he did so and I tried to focus my thoughts. Every time I started to get them pulled together, they'd scatter like dog-chased pigeons in the park—wheeling about for a bit before beginning to reform into a sensible flock again. It took me a few seconds of looking between the bottle in my hand and Devlin's pose to stop thinking with my dick and conclude that he wanted me to get him hard again. Judging by the way that he'd braced his heels on the edge of the sofa—exposing his sensitive pucker—it was obvious he wanted a little ass play.

  Considering what my family and I put him through today, I figured he deserved as much pampering and attention as he wanted. Besides, there was little I loved more than pleasuring him. Any opportunity to worship his body was pure delight for me. Grabbing the throw pillows on my end of the couch, I crawled between his thighs and stuffed the pillows behind him, bracing his back up.

  I nuzzled under his sack and he tangled the fingers of one hand in my hair as I slithered my tongue into his crevice. I slid my hands down the backs of his thighs to pull his cheeks further apart with my thumbs. I kept watching him as I found his sensitive opening—alternating between flicking my tongue over it while grazing the edges with my teeth and laving it with the flat of my tongue. His muscles began relaxing, dilating in invitation. I slipped my tongue past his ring, feeling it open further to me. My dangling cock jumped eagerly hearing his moans as he writhed under my ministrations.

  Moving back up, I nibbled around his navel, while coating his crack with a thick layer of KY with my right hand and stroking his cock with my left. He gasped at the cold, slick touch on his hot hole; his face changed to that new expression I'd noticed earlier and his cock softened a bit.

  His pucker had tightened up again, so I worked on his cock, taking him to the root while stroking the pad of my thumb over his hole in spiraling circles. I watched him closely, working my thumb against his ring to loosen him while gently nursing on his slowly reviving cock. It wasn't long before I could replace my thumb with two fingers.

  "More," he grunted when I pressed my fingers against his prostate.

  It surprised me. He'd never been willing to take more than two at a time, but I happily accommodated him by inserting a third. Seeing his balls start shifting in his sack, I pulled off his cock and leaned up further, covering his mouth with my own.

  Was it wrong to want to be the hub of someone's life? Was it crazy to need someone who wanted to be the core of mine? I didn't know, but I wasn't ready to know if he thought it was or not.

  I put everything I had into that kiss. My body moved with a mind of its own, my hips rolling in tight circles, my fingers still inside of him, occasionally brushing his prostate. His fingers dug into my back, urging me on. I broke the kiss, needing to breathe, and flicked my tongue randomly toward his ear just as he began rocking his hips with mine. It felt like encouragement; there was no hesitation like before.

  Leaning back, I studied his face; looking into his eyes, I saw that new thing in them again. Cupping his jaw, I caressed his cheekbone with the pad of my thumb as the meaning of his expression finally sank in. He was terrified as well as aroused. Stark, cold fear warred with a lush blaze of desire and there was only one thing I could imagine that he could both desperately want and fear, but I needed to be certain that it wasn't just wishful thinking.

  I resettled myself against him hesitantly, positioning the head of my straining cock at his entrance, rubbing the tip over it in little circles as I'd done with my thumb. I expected to see denial flash in his eyes, but he immediately tucked his heels against my ass—flexing them
a little to pull me against him.

  "Bear down," I whispered, "like you're trying to push me out with your muscles."

  I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and his heels pressed into my ass cheeks again. My hips leapt forward, eager to accommodate his unspoken request and my slick, mushroom head burst into what felt like the heat of a furnace; Dev sucked in a harsh breath. I stilled, biting down hard on my lips and urges, forcing myself to give him the chance make room for my invasion. His body quivered around me. The mere thought of where I was, inside Devlin, my Dev, for the first time excited and terrified me. I still saw nothing in his face that said I should stop—and I doubt I could have done so even if I had.

  The point of no return had passed, and there was no going back, but I forced myself to take it slow—verbally encouraging him to relax as I inched my way in. I was sweating heavily by the time I was fully seated; our bodies fitted together perfectly, as if we'd been made from complimentary molds. Still I held back, waiting for him to give me a sign that he was ready. He shifted under me, the walls of his tunnel massaging my shaft. My cock flexed, releasing a heavy spurt of pre-cum and I lost what little control I had.

  I thrust once, twice. No one and nothing had ever felt this good, like hot, slick, wet velvet. My balls started crawling up and I clamped down on my wild motions. Oh, Christ, not yet, not fucking yet! I thought, knowing if he moved even a little, I'd come and ruin everything.

  "Oh, fuck! Jesus fuck! Hold still!" I commanded through clenched teeth, shuddering in his embrace. Think unsexy thoughts...think unsexy thoughts, I chanted to myself—Babe Ruth in nothing but a jockstrap; Tony Blair in lady's lingerie; Hillary Clinton naked on a cold day. By the time I'd gone over everything I needed to do on Monday for the new case I'd been assigned Friday, my breathing was nearly back to normal, and my heartbeat had slowed from its hummingbird pace.

  Devlin hadn't said anything and he'd held as still as the sculpture I'd imagined his as earlier. He had a wellspring of patience that I never would have credited him with before now. I raised my head to look at him once more—the fear still lurked within his eyes—but his stubborn streak of determination looked to have gotten the upper hand, for the moment at least.

  I moved within the grip of his sheath, dropping my hips below his to drag the head of my cock over his prostate with each smooth stroke out, and rotating them as I hit the bottom of each silken glide inward. Before long, he was moving with me, gripping my triceps for balance while rolling his pelvis at the top of each outward stroke so I caressed his prostate from side to side as well as from front to back, and rocking in counter point to mine when I bottomed out.

  He grunted and groaned, wordlessly demanding a quicker tempo and a harder drive. Sweat rolled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. It dripped off my chin onto my heaving chest to slide between us. Coiling heat flooded through me, surging like a fever. Fiery coals settled behind my navel. They flared each time his body tightened with pleasure, burning away my control. The embers flared brighter without quite bursting into full flame.

  If I could keep the pace I could go on all night, but Devlin's writhing and frantically clutching hands finally brought the embers into full flame. I sped up and added greater force to my glide. His legs flexed around my hips urging me on. I tried to hold back, to prolong the experience, but he was having none of it. He broke my control by using my own method against me. He consciously began working his muscles around my painfully aroused cock.

  "Oh, fucking Hell..." I groaned. Burying my face in his shoulder. My discipline burned away to ash and my animal self seized control. All awareness narrowed to the joining of our bodies as my hips thrust with feral glee.

  A flood of exquisite sensation pushed me relentlessly toward the precipice of what felt like a potentially soul-shattering orgasm. Part of me wanted to stop and bank the fire, almost desperately wanting Devlin to reach the pinnacle first. However, the rest of my mind and body insisted it had waited too long and would have satisfaction now.

  A change in the deliberate rhythm of Dev's inner muscles and fresh passion in his vocalizations broke through the haze. Something hit the underside of my chin, making me look down from his shoulder and I saw his cock jumping on his stomach, firing long, sticky streamers of come. The sight of his pleasure shattered the fierce tension in my gut and for a split second, I felt weightless, like you do right before you fall. My awareness drained away with the violent jets of come that pumped up from my balls, filling him and sapping my consciousness, until there was nothing left of me but a shuddering mass of over-sensitive nerve endings.

  *Devlin*

  The crown of Joel's hot, hard cock was at my hole, making it flutter with fear and a need so intense it was almost blinding. His long, clever fingers had created the desire; one I didn't know existed until that first time Joel had touched me inside. He knew just how to caresses and tease that secret gland, sending waves of pleasure through me until my insides melted away like butter.

  Jesus, if his cock could do anything like that—

  He had left my ass stretched and slick with lube, empty and wanting him. I couldn't deny it any longer. I wanted this. He was tenderly touching my face, but it was his eyes that kept me aroused. Those deep green Irish eyes focused on me. Seeing me. Desiring me.

  I am not going to flinch or back out, I thought, heart pounding, but coward that I was I still couldn't say it. Do it, I just kept thinking, it's yours. Take it.

  The tip of his cock started rotating in tiny circles, making me gasp and perspire. I swallowed and pressed my heels into his ass cheeks. Inviting him in. His gaze softened then, which, damn it, was stupid. I didn't want to be thanked for giving him something we both wanted.

  "Bear down," he instructed me, "like you're trying to push me out with your muscles."

  I did as he said even as his cock head started to push in. I had to fight the urge to balk. The head wasn't even past the tender ring yet, but I well knew that Joel's girth was thicker than those three fingers. This wasn't going to be pleasant. It popped in quite suddenly, and I caught my breath. FUCK! My mind went white with a stab of pain and my ass instinctively tightened up.

  Fat lot of good that did. Joel's cock was still there, a demanding intruder. It felt huge and it hurt like hell. I clenched my teeth, determined not to show it. Sweat built up on my forehead and under my arms. Wimp, I berated myself, fucking sissy. I trembled and forced myself to go back to doing what he'd told me to do. It eased the discomfort.

  I quailed as he leaned in. "You're doing great," he murmured. His breath was short. He probably wanted to thrust in hard and fast; that's what I would have wanted to do and oh, fucking God please don't let him do that—

  He was inching in and I had to fight the raw, instinctive panic to shove him off me. I could tell he was putting all his effort into being careful, moving glacially slow, sweat gleaming at his throat. I took more and more of him, letting him fill me until, quite to my surprise, his tight, hairy balls nestled against my crack. My own nuts were nesting in his pubic hair. Amazingly, there was less pain. Even more amazing, my cock was stiff again.

  It didn't take long to realize why. His rod was resting on the magic button, starting to rub it. Automatically, I began to squeeze his thick, hard cock with my inner muscles.

  "Oh, fuck! Jesus fuck! Hold still!" he snarled, and I went still, wondering what I'd done wrong. His heart was racing against mine. The sweat between our chests made for a slippery embrace.

  I wanted to rock, badly. I wanted to writhe and buck so that his cock would go back to stroking my prostate, wiggle and moan so he'd know how crazy he was making me. I kept still. Joel was shaking and breathing hard, and I wasn't sure if he was enjoying or exhausting himself.

  His eyes locked with mine again, as if checking to see if I really had the balls to see this through. Then his hips shifted down and he began to pump in and out.

  "Oh, Jesus—" I groaned, as his slick, hard cock began to relentlessly glide over my prostate. It
turned and twisted against the sensitive interior of my tunnel, but most of all, it rubbed at that gland as if trying to start a fire. All pain vanished. Sparks of ecstasy flared through my ass and groin, up from my tailbone. It was indescribable. I felt impaled on his huge, pumping shaft, the rhythm obstinately steady, perfect for keeping me squirming. There seemed to be no escape from the relentless pleasure. I wanted to beg Joel to stop because I couldn't take it any longer. At the same time, I clung to his trembling arms, never wanting it to end.

  I couldn't even jack my aching cock, which he had trapped between our sweat-soaked abs. As we rocked, it was stroked, the nuts jostled. Like Joel's damnable thrusts, it was just enough to keep me in a state of maddening, quivering arousal. My lungs were pumping like bellows and I was sure I was going to die from sheer bliss.

  Joel kept going. I was lost now, completely lost. In desperation, I consciously flexed my inner muscles, squeezing him as hard as I could to get him to speed to the climax.