Chapter 13
Jeff
I blinked. “Here?”
“Think of it as indulging me in my fantasy. Of course, we couldn’t make a lot of noise. Or rock the truck too violently. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, do we?” He came toward me, moving slowly. He inclined his head toward the long prep counter in front of the closed shutters. “What about there?”
“Well, it’s the only flat surface in here.” I chuckled. “And I bet we’d be breaking a ton of food prep and hygiene rules.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
“But I’ll be the one doing a deep clean after.” Brandon placed his hand on my chest. “Two things we need to discuss before we do anything.”
I nodded.
He gazed at me. “What you find under this clothing isn’t going to be a surprise, is it?”
I grinned. “Nope.”
“So I’m obviously not the first trans guy you’ve played around with.”
I bit my lip. “You’re not even the fourth, or the fifth.”
He flushed. “Good to know. I like being with a guy who’s… experienced.”
“And the second thing?”
“I don’t have condoms on me. I’m betting you don’t either. So this is where I say I’ve had a procedure that makes this a less riskier prospect, and where you show me you haven’t got any nasties lurking inside you.”
I removed my phone from my jacket pocket and scrolled. “My last test result. And I’m on PrEP.” I assumed the procedure he mentioned had been a hysterectomy.
Brandon expelled a long breath. “Then this is what I do next.” He leaned in, and our lips met in a tender kiss that didn’t stay that way for long. There was a hunger in him, and I felt that same ache, the need for skin to touch skin. He deepened the kiss, only now he eased his hand under my jacket, stroking my back.
“Take this off.”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a grin. I squirmed out of the jacket while Brandon unfastened my tie, then he took both and hung them on a hook on the door.
“Now, where were we?”
Brandon’s fingertips were on my neck as we resumed kissing, my hands on his shoulders, squeezing them, exploring his mouth with my tongue. I moaned when he moved his hand lower, stroking my belly, until he reached my crotch and molded his fingers around my stiffening cock.
“This feels promising,” he said with a smile.
“Wait until it reaches its full potential. But now it’s my turn to take something off you,” I murmured. I reached down to pop the button on his jeans, lowered the zipper, then slid them over his hips and all the way down to his ankles.
“Ooops. Sneakers.” He toed them off before removing his jeans.
I kissed him, slow and deep, then lifted him onto the prep counter. I stood between his legs and we kissed again, except by then both of us were breathing erratically. I stroked his thighs, moving higher, until I reached the soft cotton of his underwear.
“Let’s get these off.” I grasped the waistband, and Brandon propped himself up on his hands, raising his hips to allow me to remove them. I tossed them onto the floor, then returned to my position between his legs, Brandon’s bare ass on the counter, his heels resting on the edge of it. He kept one hand flat, the other on my neck, and we kissed, my hand on his hip.
He froze. “Wait.” He pointed to a zipped bag next to the hand washing sink. “Get that for me, will you?”
I grabbed it, and he delved into it, removing—
“Baby wipes?”
Brandon tugged one free of its wrapping, then swiped between his legs. “I’ve been in those jeans since six this morning. These wipes are mostly water, fragrance-free, and hypoallergen—”
I stopped his words with my finger. “It’s fine, baby. Relax, okay?” I took the used wipe from him, dropping it onto his briefs, and we went back to kissing. Then I took a step back and breathed in the sight of him. I grabbed the plastic stool from under the counter and sat on it, tugging his hips until his ass was on the edge.
I met his gaze. “Is this okay?”
“You don’t need to ask. Please, Jeff…” The hitch in his voice told me Brandon wanted this as much as I did.
I leaned in, taking in his scent, his whimpers of need, and flicked his t-dick with the point of my tongue, lapping over it.
Brandon groaned, then clammed up.
I stared up at him. “Gotta be quiet, remember?” I went back to sucking on his dick, licking it, flicking it, loving the tiny noises that poured out of him. I licked a path from his boypussy to the head of his dick, over and over again, taking my time, intent on making it good for him. I spread him with my thumbs and insinuated my tongue into him before giving the head multiple tiny flicks.
“That feels so good,” he moaned, scraping his fingers through my hair, leaning back as far as he could manage, his weight on one hand.
I kept it up for as long as I could, my shaft hard and aching to be inside him, but this was all about Brandon, and I was determined he was going to come before I penetrated him. He groaned each time I pressed my tongue into him, and shivered when I teased the head, settling into a steady rhythm of licking and sucking.
Brandon grabbed my head, holding me there. “Don’t stop,” he begged. “Please. Don’t stop.”
I spread him once more and speared him with my tongue while I rubbed the head with my thumb, keeping the touch light but constant, and it wasn’t long before Brandon bit on his own hand to stifle his cries as he orgasmed.
I sat back, stroking his inner thighs, noting the tiny jolts of his body. I eased a finger into him, and I knew penetrating him would be like gliding into warm oil.
Then it hit me.
“We don’t have lube.”
Brandon managed a breathless chuckle. “On the shelf up there on the right.”
I stood, peering at the bottles. “Cooking oil?”
“It’ll do. Just grab one.” He hopped down off the counter and knelt on the stool, facing the shutters.
I picked up the nearest one, and he let out a screech.
“Fuck, not that one. It’s got chilies in it. The one at the other end with the blue label.”
I scanned it. “Organic pure liquid coconut oil?”
“Perfect.” Brandon twisted to meet my gaze. “Now let’s stop talking so you can fuck me.” He leaned forward, elbows on the counters.
“As you wish.”
I unfastened my pants, shoved them and my briefs to my knees, poured a little oil onto my stony dick, and smeared it along its length. I aimed the taut head at his glistening boypussy, and filled him with one hot glide.
Our moans were synchronized.
I gripped his hips and began to fuck him with long, slow thrusts. When my pants and briefs grew to be too much of an encumbrance, I stopped, removed them, then went back to fucking him. I anchored myself to his shoulder, pumping, rolling my hips as I filled him again and again. I alternated between short, quick thrusts and long, deep ones, and his moans grew constant.
“Your cock feels so good inside me.”
“And I love how your body feels, gripping my dick.” I reached around to play with his dick while I fucked him, and Brandon scrabbled his fingers over the smooth surface of the counter, searching for something to hold on to.
“I’m so close,” I whispered, hips snapping, my fingers digging into his waist.
“Want to feel it,” he groaned. “Come inside me.”
It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.
I sped up, my breathing harsh and rapid, and suddenly I was there, creaming into him, my chest pressed to his back, his body tightening around my cock, holding me prisoner. I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me, feeling the savage beating of his heart, echoing my own.
I kissed his shoulder. “We didn’t manage to take off everything, did we?”
He twisted his head to look at me. “Gotta save something for next time, right?”
Relief flooded through me.
There’s going to be a next time.
I brushed my fingers over his nipples, but elicited no reaction. I nuzzled his neck. “Are they sensitive?”
“Not really. It can take a couple of years after surgery for sensation to come back, if at all.” He chuckled. “But maybe this is where I tell you I do like guys playing with them, so please, don’t avoid them.”
“Do I get to kiss your scars? That’s assuming you have them. For all I know, you’ve worked hard to lessen them.” I eased my dick out of him, and he turned to face me, his arms around my neck.
“I have them. And yes, you can kiss them.” He smiled. “You’re the first guy I’ve been with since my top surgery who’s wanted to do that. And that was over a year ago.”
“Then I’d better make sure to give them plenty of kisses. You’ve obviously got some catching-up to do.”
He grabbed the wipes and handed one to me before doing a little clean-up of his own. He glanced at the counter. “I really need to spray that.”
“Then do it.” I kissed him. “And then I really think we need to get out of here, before the police come knocking on that door.”
“Good thinking. And I need to unhook everything before I can drive away.”
“Do you have far to go?”
“Not really.” Brandon peered at me. “Want to see where I live? I can make us some dinner too.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Subs?” He grinned. “With coconut ice cream for dessert.”