by Talon p. s.
Pyotr’s fists tightened into his jeans and pulled their bodies so tight even breathing adding friction between their cocks, but he didn’t leave it to just that. Pyotr’s thigh forced its way between Cliff’s legs, hands tugging on his hips had Cliff instantly dry humping against the powerful muscles of his leg, all while Pyotr’s cock was crushing against his hip. Pyotr’s arms shifted positions, one pressing down to grope at his ass cheek, the other smoothing up his back. A neurologic tease of soft and hard at the same time. Pyotr’s hips never ceasing to rock against him.
Cliff let out a guttural moan that was consumed by Pyotr’s kiss. It felt so incredible, his whole body melting and drifting off into a pool of sensation. Pyotr’s lips moved to his neck a combination of kissing and licking, “Ouch.” And biting.
“Don’t fuss.” Pyotr growled against his neck before resuming his kissing. Pyotr brought one hand around to Cliff’s front and did away with the button, next the zipper and pulled his cock out so he could stroke over the silken smooth flesh.
Cliff’s head fell back and he gasped under the strong caress of Pyotr’s hand wrapped around his already hard shaft.
Pyotr looked down at the long rod of pink flesh in his hands. He nearly purred with the velvety softness of Cliff’s skin against his palm. His thumb glazed over the weeping slit smearing the droplet of pre cum over the gland. Feeling suddenly annoyed that the lad’s jeans were in the way of him grasping all of his cock, he let go only long enough to grab the jeans at his hips and shove them down past his ass, then quickly picked up where he left off. Stroking over the engorged erection.
Cliff was so damn hard already his cock was standing straight up his belly. Pyotr had to pull it away from his body just to stroke him and even went as far as to amuse himself with his condition letting it go and watching it slap against his belly several times. Cliff face flushed with an embarrassing color of red.
“So beautiful.” Pyotr let out a husky whisper. That alone made Pyotr’s toying a little more bearable. "But I still want you to know how old I am.”
Cliff’s blush took a turn towards alarm, his head struggling to break free of the fog just so he could stand his ground on this one, “I told you I don’t care.”
“I’m forty-six. That’s old enough to be accused of robbing the cradle with you.”
“No it’s not and like I said—ahhh—” God, he had to stop just to gasp, because Pyotr’s hand never stopped stroking over him, “Ahh— I don’t care about that. I only care about being with you.” His head popped up suddenly. Eyes meeting. He hadn’t meant to be quiet so open so soon. It made him sound foolishly young at that point, which wasn’t going to help his argument.
Pyotr’s hand stopped and so did everything else, his gaze locked onto him, “You’re sure about this?”
Cliff drummed up every ounce of energy he could just to dam up the whimper that threatened to escape his lips when he tried to say something else. Such a sound would also not help his cause. Of course he wouldn’t care as long as he got off. But Cliff didn’t want Pyotr to think that. He wanted this man to know he was here because he had never wanted to be with anyone else as strongly as he wanted right now with him.
“Positive.” And just to prove it he reached for the bulge in Pyotr’s jeans and palmed against it then tore into them to free the cock from them. Pyotr’s hand resumed movement and together they simultaneously stroked each other. Pyotr eventually pulled Cliff’s hand from him and resumed their grinding.
As Pyotr brought Cliff higher and higher, Pyotr’s other hand moved under his jaw and lifted him to his lips, kissing him in a slow languid caress of his tongue. Taking the time to relish every combined texture and flavor of their tongues. And he never lost the physical contact of Pyotr’s cock grinding against his groin. He kept pace with everything else the man did. Damn, Pyotr was like a symphony conductor for sex and Cliff couldn’t wait to get to that part.
“I love your lips.” Pyotr whispered to him, “I imagine doing so many things with them one day.”
Cliff was moaning. He couldn’t stop the sounds anymore, he was so close. Pyotr moved, squaring their bodies up and once again Pyotr was gyrating their cocks against each other. Feeling the heat and the crushing sensation of the hard ridge against his own was mind-boggling. Their kiss deepened, became more hungry with the building anticipation and when he felt Pyotr’s hand once more this time he stroked them both together, in sync with the rocking of his hips.
Pyotr wrenched away from their kiss and looked down their bodies watching as if fascinated by it. “Watch it Cliff. Look how beautiful your cock is against mine.” His hand tightened, flexed and tightened again, stroking up to capture more of the pre-cum that spilled from both erections and then shifted back down, his fingers spreading out to tickle at the soft skin above Cliff’s scrotum before repeating the process.
Cliff tried to watch, but his head was reeling, his body already beginning to convulse with the inevitable. He was only being jacked off and yet it was more way more. Far more intense.
Pyotr could sense Cliff was close and he responded by stroking them faster, his hand pistoning up and down both shafts together. “Keep watching.”
Cliff tried, but what few brain cells not focused on his cock were concentrating on not falling. His knees felt so weak he had no idea how he was managing to stay on his feet. The room seemed to pitch and roll with each moan that came from his mouth. But another sound was joining in his, a building raspy breath. God it was sexy. Cliff followed the sound to Pyotr’s lips, the man’s eyes half lidded and the sound was him sucking in his breath in rapid staccatos. It was unbearable erotic.
“Come with me draga.” Pyotr managed to pant out in a husky growl.
Cliff had no idea he was already there, he had been so mesmerized by the sound of the other man. When Pyotr told him to cum, his body obeyed. Cliff’s head kicked back on his shoulders and the groan that came out filled the room and his ears. It was followed by a similar sound from Pyotr and it sounded like music to his ears. His whole body tensed and he felt his knees give out, but Pyotr had him, his arm displaying his strength as he held him up against his body and together the earth shook.
Cliff felt the hot cream gush with each pulse of their cocks, the pulsing vein of his lover’s cock against his own as more cum covered Pyotr’s hand and splattered on their chests. Pyotr’s stroking didn’t let up, making them ride out every ounce of their orgasm.
Time seemed to stand still in Cliff’s mind just feeling Pyotr’s body quiver against his. He couldn’t describe it, but he loved how it felt. Loved the chorus of heaving breaths that he fought to calm down.
Pyotr’s hand came up, covered in the shared spunk. He licked a tasty amount in his mouth then smeared some onto Cliff’s lips and dove in to kiss the banquet from them.
Cliff had never thought to revel in the evidence of bliss. He knew some didn’t like it all. But as Pyotr kissed him, his tongue dancing with his own, sharing the taste of their orgasm, he decided right then and there he liked it. Especially if this man got this much pleasure from it.
Pyotr and Cliff had since moved to the couch spooning together in the dark letting their hearts return to a slow pace and basking in each other’s arms. Pyotr traced circles in the sticky froth that still coated Cliff’s chest with an idle hand while delivering frequent kisses to his temple and the back of his head.
It was the last thing Cliff had expected out of the man. To have a fondness for cuddling. Another first in his life. “I’ve decided I don’t want to wait three days. Can I come back tomorrow?”
Pyotr lifted his head to glance over his shoulder at him. “No. I have sculling practice tomorrow.”
“Sculling? What’s that?”
“Rowing. I’m on a sculling team.”
Cliff ran his hands up and down Pyotr’s arms his fingers mapping out the multiple ripples of corded muscle. Rowing. So that’s what carved his body so. “Like an Olympic team?”
“Hardly,” he chuck
led, “but we are in the competition masters circuit. We go under the name of the Greenwich Queens NY Rowers Club. There is a Greenwich Ct rowing club, that competes in this region and of course our encounter with them in our first year was amusing. Our name was goading enough alone to get them to accept a challenge when we first started out.”
Cliff sat up and Pyotr quickly shifted to his back and urge him to rest over his chest. Cliff settled between his legs resting on his elbows over his midsection. “So I take it everyone on your team is gay?”
“That’s kinda the whole point, Draga.” Pyotr’s hand racked through Cliff’s thick tuffs of dirty blonde hair, amusing himself with the perception that no matter what he did to it, it never got worse. Or better for that matter.
Cliff shifted his weight and lowered down over Pyotr completely immune to the man’s playing as he resting his chin into his sternum, “What’s dra- whatever it was you just said.”
“Draga—pronounced dray-gah. It means honey in Serbian.”
“Like sweetheart?”
“Yes.”
Cliff lowered to a cheek, falling silent as his head rode up and down on the man’s breath. “Draga…” he whispered his new pet name. But he paused, some ill thought finding its way in his head. “You must think I’m a real idiot, not knowing so many things.” He only half dared to glance up Pyotr’s body, but didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in them.
Pyotr let out a gentle chuckle, his hand nuzzling against his head, turning it to look at him. “Not at all. I have twenty-two years head start on you. And for the record I don’t know the first thing about emergency medicine unless it has something to do with a strained muscles.” His arms moved to hook under Cliff’s shoulders and like he was doing bench curls, he pulled Cliff up his chest and in, his mouth coming over his in a tender wanting. Gentling him to accept their differences that weren’t measured in who knew what.
With some silent reluctance on both parts, Pyotr drove Cliff home as promised in exchange for more time together. But no matter how many deep breaths Pyotr took, he could not slow the racing in his heart or his head. He wanted to hurry everything along to make a deeper connection between them. He could even hear himself asking Cliff to move in with him. Three weeks and already he wanted to make the young man a solid fixture in his life. So much for taking strides. He was actually grateful when Cliff began asking more questions as he drove. Questions about his rowing team and where they practiced, when the next challenge was coming broke up his thoughts. Once he dropped his future off though, the thoughts quickly flooded back.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
CHAPTER TWO
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Oh look! Here they come now.” Kimmi called out pointing to several thin long boats barely floating above the water’s surface as they came skimming down the river. “Which one is his?” She grabbed Cliff’s arm and was jumping with excitement.
“I can’t tell yet. Settle down—we’ll have to wait til they get closer.” But even as the three boats drew closer Cliff was having a hard time telling. Three boats, two with eight rowers plus one other sitting forward in the tail end of the boat, calling out something that seemed to keep them all rowing in sync with each other. The third boat had four rowers, but no caller. All the men were all so similarly built with their backs to him—he could only narrow it down by hair color.
“Well?” Kimmi bounced against him as the boats were drawing up under them and just then Cliff found him. Second scull. Third man up. Kimmi made a dash for the other side, Cliff found himself rushing to catch up. He sure didn’t want to miss the chance to see the beautiful man at work.
Muscles flexed and straining against the oars. The boats were just slipping out from under them and there he was.
“Cliff!?” Kimmi tugged on him.
“There.” He pointed, “Third one in the row in the center boat.” And just then the man glanced up and in what seemed like nothing more than a blink of an eye Pyotr saw him and completely stalled out. The clash of oars was instantly met with some curses and the man seated on the end twisted to see just what had their team mate kiltered out of sync.
“Way’nuff!" the rear man called out as he turned back to his team. The other men stalled holding the oars out while Pyotr got back in position. With another call from the man sitting with the rudder, they dropped back into the rhythm with each other pulling down river.
“I think he’s in love with you.” Kimmi wrapped around her brother’s arm.
Cliff tried to pull away, but she held on like she always did. “What you going on like that for?”
“His heart skipped several beats when he saw you.”
“Kimmi those are called oars, not his heart.”
“But he stopped rowing because the sight of you stilled his heart.” She beamed up at him.
Cliff turned red, “You’re reading too many funny stories. Where’d you get an idea like that anyways?”
Kimmi shrugged. Ever since they got internet just a few weeks ago she stayed up late practically every night. Searching and reading and finding all kinds of things. She just couldn’t keep up with the sources anymore.
“Come on. It took us forever to get out here. We’ll walk through Macomb Park and catch the Number 22 there to start the trek home.” His arm went over her shoulders pulling her to him as they walked. It was a long trip when you had to go by bus, then train and then on another bus, but it had been well worth seeing Pyotr for that brief moment. Even if Kimmi was making too much of it.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Pyotr stood in the shower under the streaming water, his head lowered as he leaned on a hand pressed flat on the wall. He hadn’t expected to see Cliff. That did something to him, seeing the young man had come out to watch him rowing. And he could make a good guess it was his kid sister with him. That was a very positive action running in his favor.
He brought up the image of Cliff and them kissing, envisioned Cliff standing with him now, his lips beckoning him. Cliff really did have some incredible lips. Full, pouty. Edible. Not a typical feature on a man, but it was an incredible bonus. He bit at his own just savoring the anticipation.
“Does it to you, does he?” the man stepping up to the shower head next to him spoke through his thoughts.
Pyotr opened his eyes to see his brother, Pavle standing next to him adjusting the shower knobs to get the right temperature.
Pyotr smiled his acknowledgement. He felt like a kid in his new-found crush for the young lad and wasn’t a bit ashamed for it.
“Yeah well next time try not to break the oars in the process, will ya?” Pavle ducked under the water letting it rinse away the sweat.
Pyotr turned to do the same, but instantly the showers filled with boisterous laughter and cajoling. He opened his eyes once more to find his team mates all laughing at him. He glanced down at the hard-on he was sporting being the object of their amusement as it jabbed upward for the ceiling.
“Ya think the little blonde twink did it for him?” one of the men across from them asked in general to the others.
“He’s not a twink. You know I don’t go for that sort of thing.” Pyotr moved to correct the accusations with a stern tone. He closed his eyes and moved under the stream of water enjoying the feel as it cascaded down his skin, just imagining it was Cliff’s tongue instead. Pyotr felt exhilarated, his body pumped from the workout, feeling the intoxicating mix of adrenalin and testosterone coursing through his veins all the way to his erection. He envisioned licking over Cliff’s cock as he began to stroke over his own.
“Come here daddy. I’ll bend over for ya an’ you can run that beautiful sword up my arse.” Another one of them called to him in lustful offering.
Pyotr glanced at the New Zealander man, “You’ll mind your talking, Hemi. So you don’t interrupt my wet dream is what you’ll do.” It was a gentle warning.
“Such a waste of a gorgeous cock.” One of the others drew closer with hopes
to temp him some.
Pyotr peaked an eye open finding Tim standing dangerously close. “A show is all you’re gonna get.”
“Hey, dinner and a movie. I’m up for that.” another joked calling Tim back to the lower ranks. “Come here Tim, I’ll stroke you up good and plenty while you watch.”
They had a general rule, no dating between mates, but that didn’t stop them from fooling around a little in the shower from time to time. Of course none of them would think twice about having a go with Pyotr. Rules be damned for a chance to lay next to his beautiful body.
“Pavle is still making up for lost time. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to stick ya. And then you can give him a ride home.” Pyotr went back to his wet dream. He actually needed to hurry it up and just get a little release so he could get out of there and catch Cliff before they made it to the bus stop.
“Not like you to put forth the effort for a short fling.”
Pavle commented from his short perception, while Pyotr stroked himself to the edge. “That’s because it’s not.”
“I mean no offense brother. but he looked a little young on the meter don’t you think?”
“He doesn’t think so—” Pyotr sucked in a long ragged breath. His hand throttling over his shaft now as he held on to the vision of his lover pinned underneath him, “and he has the body of a man. That’s good enough for me.” He let out a tight bellow. His body curling up, all his muscles tensing and he shook in his own grasp. His cock throbbing a steady release of cum out over the shower floor.
“Fuck, what a waste.” One of the men muttered under their own panting. As several of them had begun jacking themselves just watching Pyotr.
Pyotr quickly rinsed and turned the water off. He glanced at his brother who was watching him keenly. “Find out why Sasha and Darko didn’t make it in for practice for me will you? Oh and make sure one of these blockheads takes you home.”