The Empty Egg

by Ofelia Grand

  Aiden moaned and tugged a little at his hair, making Tristan’s cock ache. He needed to see.

  “This is my present?” His voice was rough with need. He pulled down Aiden’s jeans and groaned as he took in the thin red suspender belt over black satin knickers and black stockings.

  “Yeah…pretty?” Aiden’s voice wavered a fraction, but that was the only betrayal of his uncertainty.

  “Stunning.” And so much better than the plug he’d been expecting. Not that he would’ve been disappointed, but this? This was…

  He helped Aiden remove his jeans, caressing the stockings on the way. The soft material was hot under his palms. When he came to where the clasps were fastened mid-thigh, he looked up at Aiden for the first time since he’d touched the lace. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. “How did you know?” How could he have known? Tristan had never mentioned he liked lingerie—he’d learnt his lesson the first time around. His heart slammed against his ribcage.

  “I didn’t, not for sure. When I was putting your underwear into the drawer, I found a pair of light-blue lace knickers, and I was pretty certain they weren’t yours.” Aiden grimaced a little, but then he smiled and tilted his hips towards Tristan. “You want me to take it all off? I can take it off if you don’t like it.”

  “Nope, I want you to keep it on.” Tristan gripped his hips and turned him around, biting back a groan at the naked buttocks presented to him. “You’re not taking this off until I’m done with you.”

  Rasping his beard over the small of Aiden’s back, Tristan kissed his way down. He nipped and licked, scraped his teeth over the perfectly rounded orbs while kneading them. Then he pushed them apart and made sure to leave a wet trail as he licked Aiden’s crack before biting at the string and pulling.

  Aiden let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly transformed into a whimper as Tristan cupped his straining cock.

  “On the bed. Now.”

  Aiden scrambled and crawled up, but stilled as soon as his feet left the floor. “I have to take it off, or the stockings at least, so I can get out of these knickers.”

  “You will do no such thing. On all fours. Now.”

  Tristan tore his own clothes off, urgency a blazing fire in his veins. He didn’t know how long he would last. The sight of Aiden on their bed, the straps on the suspender belt stretching as he bent forward, already had his balls tightening.

  His heart was drumming hard as he reached for the lube and a condom from the bedside-table drawer. With the bottle in his hand, he urged Aiden to move closer to the headboard, to make room for him on the bed. His cock jerked and throbbed, but he ignored it. Instead, he positioned himself on his knees behind Aiden and reached out to caress the naked skin above the stockings on the backs of Aiden’s thighs. He loved the soft, downy hair there. He continued up over the curve of Aiden’s buttocks, the skin already coated with a fine sheen of sweat. Tristan inhaled, relishing in Aiden’s fragrance.

  He couldn’t form any words. Aiden rested his forehead against the mattress, arse up high in the air and the lingerie still in place. Tristan’s hands shook as he gripped Aiden’s hips. He trailed the flimsy string with his tongue and listened to Aiden’s quickening breaths as he poked in under the fabric to get to Aiden’s hole, wetting, probing. Aiden rocked against him, and Tristan let go of his hips. He coated his fingers with lube, and with the taste of Aiden still lingering on his lips, he pulled the string aside with one hand and pushed in with the other, replacing his tongue with a finger. The welcoming warmth around his fingertip, sucking him in deeper, had them groaning in unison. The tight, silky heat drove Tristan mad.

  “I need to fuck you now.” He should probably wait a little longer, but he couldn’t, and since Aiden nodded frantically, he figured he didn’t have to. Tristan worked his finger in and out while feeling around for the condom. He couldn’t look away from Aiden’s snug hole squeezing him long enough to see where he’d put it, couldn’t think beyond the throbbing in his cock and the beating of his heart.

  “Please.” Aiden’s husky begging only added to the desperation. He longed to be inside Aiden, needed to feel Aiden surround him.

  Desperately, he felt around on the crumpled bedding. Where the fuck did it go?

  “Come on, Tristan. Fuck me.” Aiden reached down to grab his cock, but Tristan pushed his hand away.

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  “It might not look like it, but these knickers are…confining.”

  Tristan only groaned at that. He’d seen how Aiden’s dick stretched the fabric to its limit when Aiden had crawled up on the bed, but that only made it hotter.

  Finally, his hand found the condom, and he ripped the packet open. His cock spasmed and pulsed as he gave it a few strokes before rolling on the condom. Someday soon he’d fuck Aiden without—Aiden wanted it, and Tristan did, too. Soon.

  He snatched up the lube.

  “Skip it! Just come on, Tristan. I want to feel you.”

  Tristan didn’t hesitate more than a second or two before he grabbed the thong that had slid back into place and pulled it out of the way. He looked down, the red lace of the suspender belt taut against Aiden’s pale skin, the tip of his cock ready to be sucked in and buried. Aiden moaned and pressed back. Tristan did nothing to stop him as his hole stretched around the crown, hot and tight.

  He gritted his teeth so as not to thrust, but then Aiden sighed, and he couldn’t help himself.

  “Oh yes, more,” Aiden begged, and Tristan gave him more, gave him all he had. As he moved in and out, snapping his hips harder and faster with each thrust, he reached for Aiden’s cock, cupping it through the satin and rubbing in time with his thrusts.

  “Oh shit, Tristan.” Aiden bucked against him, moaning while clawing at the bedding. Tristan had sweat trickling down his back. A prickling started at his neck and raced down his spine. Tingles travelled up his thighs, all of it transforming into a pooling warmth in his lower abdomen and balls.

  Precum soaked the satin knickers. Tristan wanted to lick it off, wanted to taste the salty bitterness as it seeped through the flimsy material. He wanted to feel Aiden’s cock under his tongue as it strained to get out, but instead he released it from its restricting prison. All he heard was Aiden’s whimpers and moans, as he fisted his velvety length, and the sound of their bodies slapping together as he pounded into Aiden. The room smelled of sweat and sex, intoxicating musk with a tinge of aftershave.

  Electric chills rolled over Tristan’s skin. His body tightened, and a buzz took up in his ears.

  He was aware of Aiden’s increasing groans as his body squeezed Tristan harder. They were both panting, both trying to get as much of the other as they possibly could. Tristan gripped and clutched, his fingertips leaving red marks as they dug into Aiden’s pale skin, but he couldn’t get enough.

  Aiden surged up on his knees, forcing Tristan to do the same. The sweat-soaked curls wet his shoulder as Aiden leaned back against him.

  The change in position hugged Tristan tighter, made his entire body clench and urged him on. He bent down and licked the sweat off Aiden’s neck, and as the saltiness coated his tongue, Aiden’s hand closed around his. Together they stroked him faster, harder. Desperate sounds filled the air while precum dribbled down their fingers.

  Tristan no longer knew where he ended and Aiden began. Together they were one. Together, they hurtled towards the inevitable ending. Tristan didn’t know if he wanted to fling himself towards the finish line or slow down, prolong it.

  He couldn’t control the building thunderstorm. Sensations mounted, grew out of proportion. His nerve endings tingled and burned. Each brush against his oversensitive skin sent waves of prickling pleasure through his veins.

  Aiden’s moaning grew more desperate. The clasps of the suspender belt reminded Tristan they were there every time they connected with his thighs as Aiden met his thrusts.

  Tristan’s balls tightened. He tried to hold on for a bit longer, but as wetness spilled over his hand,
he gave himself over. A lightning bolt shot down his spine, into the core of him, and he blew apart. A white-hot explosion went off behind his eyes as he squeezed them shut, and a tidal wave of tingles crashed over both of them.

  Aiden clung to Tristan as wet spurts painted his abdomen, a whine still lingering on his lips. Tristan tried to control his panting, desperately sucked in breath after breath, but it wasn’t enough to calm his racing heart. Sweat dripped onto his temple, and he reached up to wipe the droplets away.

  “Holy shit,” Aiden moaned against his neck. “We are so doing that again.”

  Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle even though it came out a bit throaty. Then he pulled out, wound his arm around Aiden’s waist and let himself fall down on the bed, pulling Aiden close.

  “Next time I’m buying a corset.” Aiden beamed at him before crushing their lips together.

  Next time.

  Next time Tristan would do the shopping.

  THE END

  ABOUT OFELIA GRÄND

  Ofelia Gränd is Swedish, which often shines through in her stories. She likes to write about everyday people ending up in not-so-everyday situations, and hopefully also getting out of them. She writes about men falling in love with other men, but when it comes to subgenres, she likes to mix and match.

  Her books are written for readers who want to take a break from their everyday life for an hour or two.

  When Ofelia manages to tear herself from the screen and sneak away from husband and children, she likes to take walks in the woods…if she’s lucky, she finds her way back home again.

  For more information, visit ofeliagrand.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!