Naughty Wishes Part III

by Joey W. Hill

  Another quiver. He'd wanted Chris to know he wasn't playing Dom games or just lonely for a piece of ass. He expected Chris knew, but Geoff needed to say it, because he was painfully aware there was one of them in this room who needed that to be clear. "Answer me," he demanded roughly.

  Keeping his hold on Chris's testicles, he dipped his thumb between his buttocks and found the crinkled opening of his rim. Fine hairs curled around it. As he rubbed, Chris jerked in his grip, letting out a hoarse breath.

  "Not hearing anything, Chris. Maybe something's got your tongue."

  Geoff changed positions, letting go of his balls to grip his hair instead, turning Chris's face up to his roughly enough to stoke the fire. He stopped an inch from his mouth, teased him with his breath, his other thumb coursing over his lips. He could sense Chris's gaze on him, like being close to a flame.

  "You had fantasies like this, but you ignored them, shoved them down. Because you just weren't sure what it meant about you. You know me, Chris. You know me down to the soul, and so you know all my corners of dark and light. If you've wanted me, if your dick's gotten hard imagining us like this, then me taking over was part of it." He curled his hands around the belt and tugged on it, letting Chris feel the binding. "Because you know it's part of me."

  Chris didn't respond, but his breath remained uneven, those eyes seeking Geoff's in the darkness. Geoff came even closer.

  "That sweet mouth," he whispered. "I've thought about ramming my dick into it more times than I can count. Putting you on your knees in the kitchen and thrusting until I come so hard it spills out of your mouth."

  "Fuck." A bare whisper of sound, but Geoff's lips drew back in dangerous satisfaction. The big shoulder flexed under his hand as Chris tested the bonds in involuntary reaction. "If your hands were free," he said, low, "you'd try to pull me down, because you wonder what my mouth tastes like. You wonder what a kiss from a man feels like. Or do you? Has any other man ever tasted your mouth, Chris? What bastard had the balls to taste what was mine?"

  Chris trembled again, his arms still flexing, straining. He didn't speak again. Geoff wondered if he could. To have a fantasy--or in Chris's case maybe it was better to call it a hope, humbling as it was to realize he had considered this moment that way--that lived only in shadows brought to life, even in darkness, might steal words, and leave only a tumble of emotions too strong to contain except through violence or sex. Or violent sex. But this was where being a Dom came in handy. Geoff knew he couldn't let it go that way.

  Easing his hold on Chris's shoulder, he moved to trace Chris's face, gentle as a mother's touch. Geoff thought he could hear the crash of Chris's heart like thunder. Leaning down, Geoff found Chris's mouth with his own. Easy, rubbing, caressing, a tracing of the tongue between the parted lips. Chris's breath touched his flesh, erratic. Geoff curved his hand around his nape, increasing the firmness of the grip as he deepened the kiss.

  He slid his other hand down Chris's shoulder, over the biceps, enjoying the strength and beauty of the powerful arm, then down to release the belt from his wrists. He sat back, out of range. God. He knew how he'd felt when he'd first kissed Sam. Now, when he kissed Chris, he compared those two first kisses to all the others he'd ever had and realized Chris was smarter than he'd ever be. There was no comparison. Quantity could never hold its own against quality that pure.

  "Put your arms above your head," he said.

  A long pause, and Chris did it, another shot of pure adrenaline. Geoff rode it, straddling his shoulders, sitting his bare ass between Chris's shoulder blades as he rebound his hands with the belt. He wished his friend had a bed so he could wrap the tongue around a headboard, but he didn't need it. Not really. Chris's arms flexed against the binding, but he didn't try to get away. Sliding back, Geoff ran his hand over one buttock, giving it a healthy, bruising squeeze. "You could bounce quarters off that thing, man," he muttered.

  Chris let out a strained half chuckle. Geoff moved farther down to sit on his thighs and take a handful of buttock in each hot palm, squeezing, learning every inch of him. Talk about delayed gratification. He had to force himself to focus. This wasn't just about him.

  "So I come to you in the dark. Maybe you don't even acknowledge it's me. But you know. You know the touch of my hands, the way I want to use you. Maybe you've already had Sam that night, fucked her, spilled yourself inside her. But it's not enough. You bring her to sweet climax again by licking her cunt and sucking on her pretty nipples. You remember how tight they were after you put your mouth on them? You give her satisfaction but you leave yourself hurting for it. First, because you know she's exhausted, and you don't want to be a brute. When you leave her sleeping, you tell yourself you're done. But you know you aren't. Not until you've been fucked by me. Your second climax belongs to me."

  He pressed his erection against Chris's ass. "Maybe you haven't let yourself fantasize about it, Chris, but I have. I'll loan you that fantasy and about a dozen more until you can think up some on your own. As much as I've loved thinking about every inch of your body, I've spent as much time thinking about what you say to me, how you respond, how close we've gotten--way closer than just fucking. And when I go to bed with those kind of fantasies, I wake up hurting. Needing."

  Chris made a noise, one Geoff wasn't sure how to interpret, but it wasn't rejection. More like some of the same kind of primal hunger. He slid down to the backs of Chris's knees and found the lubricant where he'd left it. "No talking now," he said in a gruff voice. "You just feel. Feel what I'm doing. How I'm making you ready for me."

  "Geoff."

  "Yeah, bud?" He curved over him, a hand braced by his shoulder. The position trailed the head of his cock over Chris's buttocks, the small of his back. Geoff suppressed the desire to push it more firmly against him and rub like a damn cat in heat. Or a male marking territory.

  "You meant it, right? I'm not some casual fuck. Not like the others." Chris tensed. "I'm not being a fucking girl, either. I'm just saying . . ."

  "First off, there weren't that many 'others,'" Geoff said with a lightness he didn't feel. "But I get it. You're saying if I didn't mean what I just said, that this is something more, I need to get the fuck off of you and get the hell out of your room. Right?"

  Chris nodded.

  "Okay. Pay attention, then, since I thought I made that way clear the first time."

  Geoff gripped his hair and slammed his mouth down on his. This time he unleashed everything that was surging through him below the waist, as well as through his heart and every blood cell.

  Chris groaned, and the sound became the rumble of a waking bear. The muscles beneath Geoff bunched, gathered, but before he could counter, Chris tossed him, spinning over in the dark to grab at him. Fuck. He had about a second to remember the other thing that first Dom mentor had told him.

  Never underestimate a sub's physical reaction to stimuli.

  He'd definitely miscalculated this one's. With Chris's hands bound, he had less control over the maneuver. Geoff's head cracked into the wooden crate Chris used as a side table. Whatever was on it toppled and, when Geoff slid to a stop, half on and half off the mattress, he was pretty sure a couple of books were stabbing him between the shoulder blades. A beer bottle had prevented his head from bouncing off the much more forgiving carpeted floor.

  "Geoff." Chris was on his knees over him, breath harsh. "I can't . . . I've got the belt knotted, or something. Are you okay?" He was moving, scrambling away. "Fuck. I'll get the light . . ."

  Summoning a quick snapshot of what was in the room and gauging Chris's direction, Geoff rolled and caught his ankle and knee in two strong hands. It felled Chris like a tree, vibrating the house on its foundation. However, unlike Geoff's, Chris's landing pad was all carpet. Geoff didn't give him time to recover, scrambling to pin him on his stomach, a knee between his legs and hand on the back of his neck.

  "Easy," he said sharply. "Easy. We're still in the dark here, Chris. It's all about what's happening in the dark. Ta
ke a breath."

  But Chris was rigid. "Did I hurt you?"

  "Yeah, you did. But it was my fault. Shut up. Just be quiet." Geoff slid his hands over Chris's shoulders, down the flat of his back and over the tempting rise of his ass. Then back up to check the the belt. He'd only twisted it in his panic, so Geoff figured it out, loosened the strap and pulled it away to chafe at his friend's wrists. "Okay on circulation?"

  "Yeah. It was fine. It wasn't too tight. I just couldn't get it loose."

  "Good."

  "But where did I--"

  "Shut up. Keep your hands up by your head." Geoff adjusted so he was kneeling between Chris's spread thighs. He slid his palm over the round shape of Chris's buttock, bent closer and bit.

  "Ow . . ." Chris jerked in response, letting out another strangled chuckle. "What the hell . . ."

  Geoff gripped the other ass cheek to keep him still and tightened the clamp of his jaws, tasting Chris's flesh with tongue and teeth, digging in harder.

  Chris drew in another one of those unsteady breaths. Geoff was flooded with fierce joy as he felt Chris's surprise, his discovery of arousal in pain. He wanted to take him right then and there. Heaven. He'd stumbled onto heaven with these two, because Sam responded like a flower to sunlight to the same thing.

  Easy. Chris getting the first glimmer of understanding was nowhere near Sam's full embrace of the same. Geoff made himself relax his jaw and swirled his tongue over the offended flesh.

  "Been wanting to take a bite out of your ass for a while," he said, lifting his head.

  Chris went quiet for a moment. "I didn't put it in pictures," he responded. "Just like you said. But you have. In those pictures . . . what did you want, Geoff? What did you want from me? From us?"

  Everything. I want to demand everything, and have you trust me to take you hell and gone from your comfort zone. But even then, out in that abyss, all I want is whatever you're willing to give me.

  Geoff stayed silent, though. Some things could only be expressed with action, learned with time. He lubed up a couple of fingers before he parted Chris's buttocks, pushing the tip of one against him, stroking the rim. That nice little quiver went through Chris once more. Geoff saw him shift, and realized he was digging his fingers into the carpet.

  "Your dick still hard, bud?"

  "You know it is."

  "A simple yes or no is all the jury requires." Geoff reached down between his legs, captured his balls and gave them an idle twist. Chris jerked, but quickly realized how vulnerable a position he was in. "Yes or no?"

  A muttered oath came first, but Chris managed the response Geoff demanded. "Yes."

  "Good boy."

  Geoff suspected Chris's erect cock still had pre-come oozing out of the slit, wetting the carpet. He put his fingers inside Chris along with the tip of the lubricant to help slick up Chris's sphincter, caressing it enough that those muscles let him in, wanting more of that feeling. Chris's breathing went to a harsh rasp again.

  "Feels good, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah." The edgy quality of his voice made Geoff grin in a feral way.

  "You're kneading the carpet like a cat, aren't you?"

  "Shut up."

  Geoff drew out the anticipation, tracing the curve of Chris's ass and his upper thigh, playing a single fingertip over his balls and perineum as Chris groaned, his hips flexing. Watching the show pushed Geoff's own arousal up another notch.

  He lubed his own cock then. It might be overkill, but he was going to make this as comfortable as he could. At least this first time. He savored the stillness that descended upon his mount as Chris figured out what he was doing. Geoff could almost feel his mind assigning action to those slight shifts of his body, Geoff's hand working over himself, up then down, up then down.

  "Going to jack off there, or do something with that?"

  Satisfaction surged through him at the impatient challenge. "Keep shooting off your mouth, that's just what I'll do. Jerk off on your back and get my spunk in your pretty hair."

  This time he anticipated. When Chris tried to buck him off, he shifted back, gripped his hips and yanked him up onto his elbows. The motion put his cock firmly against Chris's ass. His head was down, the pale silhouette of his back like the graceful wing movements of a stingray, expanding and lowering with his breath. Geoff ran a soothing hand over him.

  "You're just big all over. Nice big ass, like a left tackle. Tight as a drum."

  "Lucky I'm not a girl, else you'd be getting nothing for calling my ass big."

  "I'll get what I want, because you want me to have that big, tight ass." Geoff gave him a far more possessive stroke and let him feel the firm command in it, reinforcing what was in his voice. "Stay on your elbows. There isn't anything to this. You just push out and let me ease in."

  "Figured you'd ram yourself in like a jackhammer, like you said."

  "That how you imagined it, without pictures?"

  Chris nodded, a quick jerk Geoff felt through his body since he couldn't see it. "It's a nice fantasy, but it would hurt like a son of a bitch, especially to a virgin ass. There'll be time for that as you get more used to it. Easy now, man. Just let me in." Working the head of his cock against the tight opening, he felt the lube opening things up. He had his thumb in there too, rubbing, teasing, and he added some vocal stimulation to it.

  "I want it all, Chris. You asked me what I thought about, and that's what I imagined. Everything you and Sam are, everything you want to be, I want it all to be part of me, belonging to me. But right now, I want only one thing. To have your ass. I want to be balls deep inside of you. I want to feel you give it all up to me."

  Chris groaned as Geoff passed through the first ring of muscles, a glorious constriction that made him want to groan. He dug his fingers into Chris's hips. "Fuck, you're tight. I love it." He bent, pressing his mouth against Chris's spine and teasing the ridges with his tongue. Chris lifted up into him in reaction, which impaled him even deeper. The feeling was indescribable. He wanted his balls resting against Chris's, wanted to feel that friction and impact when he thrust into him with a smooth rhythm, made possible by Chris's surrender and the slickness of their joining.

  Yeah, they might have unresolved issues, but the beauty of fucking a man was that conversation at a certain point was no longer a priority, even if the fate of the universe depended on it. The only thing Geoff could imagine stopping them right now was Samantha herself. She was the one who'd made this happen. The thought inspired him to say one more thing before they reached that point of no return.

  "So that you never question it," he rasped, "understand that she's ours, Chris. This proves it, you get me? It's not a competition between us. Not over her."

  Chris shook his head, an agreement, and Geoff slid home. Blessed fucking heaven. He pushed against Chris, a deeper angle.

  "Say it, Chris. Tell me you've always wanted me to fuck you. In the dark, in the light, even when we were fucking other girls."

  Chris's big body convulsed, rocked, and Geoff reached below him, grasping the base of his cock in a hard clamp. "You don't come until you say it. Say it."

  "I can't . . . can't do that. Yet."

  It twisted like a knife in Geoff's chest, but he got it. He understood. But, fuck, it changed where they could go tonight. It shouldn't. He should just ignore it, just let it go. He drew back and slid in home again, a long, sizzling line of friction that had Chris's body gathering again. He worked Chris the way he needed. In, out. The feeling was incredible. With the few brain cells he had left, he thought to grab a corner of Chris's bedding and work it underneath him. Chris, understanding, shifted his hands to pull it under his palms, but he was panting. "Close . . . fucking close."

  "Come, then, you stubborn bastard."

  Chris let out a strangled cry, his hips jacking back and forth. Geoff moved with him, making sure he hit right where he needed to hit on each impact. Being squeezed by all those incredible muscles was sexual bliss. He might have killed someone for the privileg
e of releasing into Chris's fine ass, but for some reason he pushed it aside, instead reveling in taking Chris all the way home, knowing that when he climaxed it was because Geoff was inside him, because he was responding to what Geoff could give him.

  Once that gateway was open, it never took a guy long to make it to the finish line. Geoff remembered Sam picking up a Cosmopolitan when they were at the grocery store and solemnly informing him that a woman's climax was usually three times longer than a man's. What they lost in time, they could recoup in intensity, though, if it was done right. Geoff was determined to do it right.

  When Chris came to a shuddering halt, head down, his wide chest moving in and out like a bellows, he thought he'd hit his mark. But Chris started moving against him, realizing Geoff hadn't yet come. Chris had a generous heart. Why that made Geoff hurt a little bit more, he didn't want to think about right now. He needed to wrap this up before he screwed things up entirely.

  Gripping Chris's hips, Geoff eased back until he freed his rigid dick. Just that friction alone was almost enough to send him over. He tried thinking of fungus, his grandmother or random Sesame Street episodes. Anything to calm it down.

  "What . . ." Chris tried to twist around. Geoff nipped out of range, barely, snagging his brief shorts and pulling them back on in a blink so he could be back beside Chris and not leave him feeling abandoned. He grabbed his arm where he was flailing in the dark, ran a hand over his face, his hair, those thick locks, settling him. "Easy. Come back to the bed. Stretch out."

  Chris complied after a hesitation, probably thinking Geoff was going to go about it another way. Once he was settled, Geoff knelt over him and put a palm on his chest, holding him there. He'd stepped on the TV remote while finding his shorts, so he picked it up and clicked the TV back on. A dim light filled the room, along with the low murmur of the late night newscast. Chris was sprawled on the mattress, cock lying against his thigh, legs spread, his eyes confused but mouth slack from his climax. The view alone made Geoff bite back a shudder. His cock was well and truly pissed at him, and he couldn't say he blamed it a bit.

  "Geoff." Chris pushed up on his elbows, brown eyes meeting his. "What's going on?"