He whirled on one foot and shoved Garth toward the bed. “Maybe I can prove it this way.”
As Garth watched, too shocked to comment, Peter almost tore his clothes off, scattering them around the room in his haste. Then he stood, naked and aroused, looking at Garth with a heat that nearly singed off his new jeans and Night Rider T-shirt.
“You dress well, Garth, but I like you better undressed.”
Then, before Garth’s unsteady hands could even begin, Peter started to peel away Garth’s clothes. First the T-shirt went flying, yanked over Garth’s head so fast it almost took his ears along. His belt buckle clattered as it fell to the floor, dragging his jeans off of his hips. Peter planted a powerful hand in the middle of Garth’s chest and laid him out on the bed with a single shove. Next Peter dropped to his knees on the floor between Garth’s legs, folded over the edge of the mattress.
Without hesitation, Peter grasped Garth’s twitching cock and stroked it into total stiffness in mere seconds. “I’m going to give you the blow job to end ‘em all.” He growled the words, almost making them a threat, an instant before his mouth closed around the head of Garth’s dick. His lips felt hotter than the steam in the sweat lodge. It took only seconds for Garth to approach the pinnacle, his hands clenching in the bedspread until he gave in to the demanding urge to fist them into Peter’s thick hair while he pounded into the heated cavern of his lover’s mouth. He came in an explosive burst.
Peter didn’t pull back until the last pulses faded away. He swallowed, then wiped his lips with the back of one hand. “That’s just the appetizer. There’s more coming as soon as you’re ready for it.”
“I’m ready if you are. Just let me roll over.”
Before he did, though, Garth got a glimpse of Peter’s wolfish grin. It told him he was in for a wild ride. Floating on a euphoric cloud as he was at the moment, the prospect did nothing to dampen his soaring spirits. While Peter’s enthusiastic loving did not actually confirm the things he’d said, Garth wasn’t going to resist a second of it. He’d waited far too long for the one man he craved to the depths of his soul, the one man he had silently and secretly loved for fifteen years.
He turned face down on the bed, then drew his legs up to rest on their folded length, lifting his ass in a way to which Peter could hardly fail to respond. Just in case he didn’t get the message, though, Garth stated aloud exactly what he wanted. “Come on, Nightrider, give me a ride I’ll remember ‘til the day I die. Fuck me stupid.”
“Okay. When you put it that way…ya ask for it, ya got it.”
Peter stretched to reach the lube in the headboard, coated his prick, and squirted a good stream down Garth’s crack. He rubbed it in with the side of his hand and then with an increasing number of fingers inserted in Garth’s ass. Before he was done, Garth writhed, aroused to aching eagerness and wanting more, wanting it all.
He was ready when Peter grasped his hips, fingers digging into the muscle at the tops of his thighs. This time there was no hesitation, no careful probing. Peter thrust into him in a single ramming lunge, going so deep his balls bumped against Garth’s, shoved back by his folded legs. In to the hilt, Peter paused only a moment. Then he began to fuck in earnest, pulling back until only the head of his cock remained inside before slamming into Garth again and again. As the bed rocked with the forceful rhythm, Garth braced on his extended hands, trying to keep from sliding across the mattress.
With a yell mixing equal parts of pleasure and pain, Peter exploded. Garth felt the eruption in every atom of his body. Pulling free, Peter threw himself down on the bed at Garth’s side.
“If I was an inny before I think I’m an outie now,” Garth said, with a chuckle. “Man, you damn near went clear through me.”
Peter flung an arm across Garth and dragged him closer. “I need to touch you, feel you close to me. I didn’t hurt you did I?”
Garth shook his head. “No way. If there was any hurt it was the good kind, the kind that makes it almost too powerfully sweet to bear. I’ve waited half a life time to be with you this way. Unless you literally tore me apart, it couldn’t possibly hurt. Maybe even not then.”
“Oh, you and them big fancy lawyer words. I don’t know sweet words, not even when I write my songs, but I guess if I did I’d say them to you. I’m better at deeds than words, though. It’s your turn again. If you’re ready to get it up another time, let me find out what it’s like.”
Once more shock roared through Garth.
Did he just say what I think he said? Is he offering to let me fuck him?
“You said you were the fucker, not the fuckee. I didn’t think you did that.”
“I never did before, but for you, I will. I want to. You’re gonna get a virgin, so enjoy it. You’re getting the last cherry I have to offer. If that doesn’t prove to you exactly how I feel, how I want things to be between us, I don’t know what will.”
For a moment, Garth almost wept. This was so unexpected, so overwhelming. The great Nightrider shedding his last bit of machismo and coming totally out of the closet to stand in the glaring light of a new identity.
“Are you sure about this? Once it’s done….”
“Hell yes I’m sure.” Peter almost yelled the words. “Get the lube and get on with it.” He drew his legs up and folded down on them, lifting his butt. He even reached back and spread his cheeks while Garth gingerly applied the lube. “Come on, I’m not made out of china or glass or something. Use your fingers and put it where it needs to go.”
Garth did, quickly shedding his hesitation as the arousing site of Peter’s muscled and tanned ass lifted to welcome him did its work. He was more than half hard when he started and by the time he had the lubrication job done, stiff as a poker. Still, he hesitated a moment, using his hand to draw his prick up and down the crack of Peter’s ass a few times, then nudging slowly into the tight waiting hole. He’d done this a few times with others, but normally he just went for an exchange of blow jobs. So this experience was still somewhat of a novelty. This was Peter, too, the guy who was always the aggressor, the guy Garth had dreamed about forever. Now Garth was actually fucking him…and it felt more amazing than anything he’d ever done.
He started slow, feeling the tight muscled walls grip him, almost resisting his invasion, but starting to respond, to relax, and open enough to let him move. Peter groaned, deep in his chest.
Garth hesitated. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. In fact a hell of a lot better than okay, but you’re still treating me like a virgin princess. Go after it. I want to feel you get off like you’ve never done before.”
Peter’s rough, low voice was all the urging he needed. Garth forgot his hesitance and went to work.
Holy frijoles, this feels amazing.
He rocked back and thrust forward again and again, feeling the tension build as his balls drew tight and the moment of climax edged closer. Then all at once he came in a savage surge, explosive and more intense than he could ever recall. He heard himself yell, as if from a distance, before his overloaded senses shut down for a moment and he almost passed out.
He managed to pull free before he collapsed at Peter’s side. They lay together then for a long time, arms around each other and past the need for words. They were not quite asleep but not fully awake either, yet bound by a sense of union too precious to disturb. Finally the cooling of twilight crept into the room and brought enough chill to force them to move.
Garth opened his eyes and gazed into Peter’s, mere inches away. What he saw there dispelled the last of his doubts. They were together and they were going to be staying that way. Even better, it didn’t look like he’d have to share Peter with anyone at all.
“It almost ought to be illegal to be so damn happy.”
Peter smiled. “But it isn’t and I figure we paid our dues to get here, don’t you? So let’s just enjoy it.”
“Works for me.”
THE END
ABOUT DEIRDRE O’DARE
A lifelong reader, Deirdre learned to write—poems and stories—as soon as she could print the letters and try to spell words. She went pro with women’s fiction as Gwynn Morgan after she retired from a US civil service job and switched to erotic romance some years back. A confirmed desert rat, she sets most tales in her beloved southwest and slips in her ranch and outdoor background with adventures and ‘critters’ as secondary characters.
Although all of Deirdre’ s tales are explicit, she emphasizes she writes love stories and not just sex stories because she believes Love in all its forms is the One True Thing. She also believes that every human deserves to find and enjoy it. She currently resides in central New Mexico and serves as chauffer and household staff for two amazing dogs. She enjoys many creative hobbies and spending time with friends and her spectacular grandkids when she can escape from the keyboard.
For more information, visit deirdredares.blogspot.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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