CHAPTER SIXTEEN #3
Scott pulled out of Carver and rolled him onto his back, then slid down the mattress to take his dick in his mouth and push a few fingers inside him so he could rub his prostate at the same time. Carver let out a rapturous sigh and lay pliant, letting himself be handled.
He slid three fingers back into Carver, feeling the smooth clutch of hot slick muscle that was like being swallowed alive.
It was a kinetic thrill, that sense of being drawn in, almost more thrilling when it was his hand and not his dick because there wasn’t the abrupt impediment of his pelvis — if he could work his entire hand into Carver he could keep going, he could slide his wrist in and then his arm.
The thought of disappearing into him like this was intoxicating.
Scott took more of Carver’s erection into his mouth, until it nudged the entrance to his throat.
Scott’s throat relaxed for this instead of protesting it.
He sucked harder, wanting more of his salty taste, wanting to suck every last bit of it from him.
He crooked his fingers at more of an angle, creating new pressure against Carver’s prostate, and relished in Carver crying out and gripping him by the hair.
There was enough room in Carver for his pinky, so Scott pushed it in and used this new dexterity to rub Carver’s prostate that much harder.
Carver let out a sobbing high moan, almost yanking Scott’s hair out of his head.
Saliva flooded Scott’s mouth, and he worked his tongue until he was nearly choking on Carver.
His gag reflex activated, but he paid no attention — it wasn’t telling him anything important.
He wanted Carver to come down his throat.
He wanted very badly to swallow his cum.
He felt if it were spilled anywhere else it would be wasted, that he might just have to lick it off the mattress.
He crooked his fingers aggressively again, and Carver dropped one handful of his hair to bang his fist against the side of the van while screaming aloud — three loud rings of metal, maybe to cover up the scream.
Then he came straight down Scott’s throat, and Scott, who had not swallowed anyone’s cum in about five years, felt waterboarded and pulled back from him in a panic.
Most of it had shot instantly down his esophagus, but Scott started coughing, and a little bit came back into his mouth and the periphery of his sinuses. He pulled his hand from Carver, continuing to cough. Carver sat up and pulled Scott’s head to his chest, stroking his hair.
“I’m good,” Scott said, then laughed.
Carver continued to pet him lazily, looking immensely satisfied. “You didn’t have to take me that deep,” he murmured after a few moments had passed.
“I wanted to.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You thought you were the only crazy one around here?”
Carver giggled and petted him more — his hair, his beard, his stomach and biceps and shoulders. He had nice hands, and Scott liked the way he used them. He always touched with intent, as if he’d studied your body and considered where to place his fingers before doing so.
They lay back down together and began to kiss.
Carver’s tongue rooted through his mouth as if looking for his own semen to lick traces of it from Scott’s teeth and gums. Scott rutted his spent dick against Carver, feeling it pulse with interest as it worked its way back up to attention.
He wrapped his hands around Carver’s waist and pressed against him, rubbing himself into the crease between his thighs, and Carver sighed with happiness.
“Shit,” he said wistfully, “I wanted to suck your dick. I forgot to do that before you fucked me.”
“It’s okay,” Scott said, kissing his lovely collarbone.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
Scott laughed. “Packing up my shit, getting dinner with your cousin…”
“I’ll suck your dick after dinner.”
Scott longed to say yes to this, but forced himself to say, “Maybe focus more on… you know… all you’ve got going on…”
“Oh, but I don’t want to,” Carver sighed, nuzzling their foreheads together then grazing his teeth over Scott’s ear.
Scott shivered. “I’ll enjoy the blowjob more if I know where you stand with your wife.”
“You Boy Scout,” Carver said with affection. “Doesn’t sneaking around turn you on at all? I could tell you loved fucking me in my parents’ backyard.”
“Carv,” he said, and kissed him on the lips. “I’m not twenty-two anymore… I’ve fucked enough married people.”
“You’re probably right,” Carver said, smiling at him, his eyes bright and soft. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me from being the product of an affair.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just unhappily married.”
“Yeah. That and I watch too much porn.”
They fell quiet and went back to making out and grinding against each other. After a while Scott started to get hard again, and Carver stroked him, encouraging this.
“I’d like to sit on this,” he said.
“You sure?” Scott said, surprised. “It isn’t too much, tonight and last night?”
“Baby, I’ve been waiting almost twenty years for you to fuck me again, okay?”
Scott’s dick got harder by an order of magnitude. “Okay,” he said, sounding and feeling completely stupid.
“For so long I tried to convince myself it was just psychological,” Carver murmured, nuzzling his neck as he continued to jerk him off.
“Just ‘cause you were my first. And I was honestly angry at you for it, like you propagandized me or hypnotized me or something. But now that I’ve had it again, I think I just love your dick. No one’s ever done me like you. ”
Scott started to thrust against him mindlessly, targeting the seam between Carver’s thighs as if to force them apart.
Carver pulled him up by his arm, into a sitting position, then grabbed Scott by the base of his dick and slid him back into himself with a dancer’s grace.
Scott let out a grateful moan into Carver’s shoulder, blissfully relieved to be let back into slick hot heaven, and started thrusting up into him.
Carver grabbed at Scott’s hips, as if looking for something to hang onto as he rode him.
“No one’s ever really — done me like you either,” Scott panted, grabbing at the sweaty nape of Carver’s neck and tangling his fingers in his hair.
Carver grinned at him and leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Good,” then bit Scott’s earlobe.
Scott moaned, fucking him harder, wanting to fuck his way into and through Carver until they were wrapped around each other like a pair of interlocked rings.
They were both soaked in sweat, almost slippery with it, their bodies hot and flushed.
“God, you’re deep,” Carver moaned, his voice rising in a whine.
Scott throbbed with satisfaction and kissed him, sucking on his top lip, clenching his fist in Carver’s hair. “Good deep?”
“Good, yeah, really good… do I feel good?”
“What do you think?” Scott murmured, ducking his head to kiss Carver’s throat.
Carver let out a throaty laugh, then shuddered in his arms and breathed his name; Scott throbbed again and responded with rougher strokes up into him.
He felt Carver’s erection returning and starting to rub between their stomachs, and he reached down between their bodies to stroke him.
Carver threw his head back, sighing, haloed by the pale light from above.
Abruptly he pushed Scott back against the mattress, and Scott let himself be pushed, shifting his hips so he could still work them while horizontal.
Carver gripped Scott by the waist and closed his eyes, his lips parted, riding him in passionate circles.
Scott closed his eyes too. He was in the state he loved, that state of perfect focus, all body and soul bent toward one task.
In these moments he felt immortal. For as long as they lasted they contained the duration of the universe, they contained his whole self and the echo of him which he sensed would never die, would continue arcing around like a boomerang from Big Bang to Big Crunch and back again.
When Scott was being what he was built to be, doing what he was built to do, he knew eternity and felt the peace of total surrender to it.
He felt this now from inside of Carver, knowing they were both doing what they were built to do and doing it as one.
The missing eighteen years didn’t matter, could not matter, meant almost nothing.
Scott eventually felt the need for more friction and lifted up off the mattress enough to grab Carver and pull him down onto it, rolling them back over into missionary.
He knew he’d been rough and kissed Carver as he continued to thrust into him, murmuring an apology.
Carver clung to him and kissed him back, whispering that there was no reason to be sorry, that he liked it.
Scott pulled his hair again, and Carver let out a small grateful moan, his lids falling while his lips parted.
Finally Scott came again and collapsed on Carver, sighing, limp and tingling with ecstasy as his dick went soft inside him. Carver stroked his hair and shoulders, trailing his fingers delicately over Scott.
When he was back on firm ground he pulled out and sat up, tugging Carver along so he could more easily jerk him off. They sat there breathing heavily, half in each other’s laps with their legs intertwined, both watching Scott’s hand move up and down Carver’s shining erection.
Carver was flushed in the cheeks and lips in a striking, lovely way, and Scott couldn’t help mumbling compliments as he worked.
Carver smiled in response, poking his tongue out between his teeth a little, looking at Scott with great affection.
His face wasn’t only brightened by sex, Scott knew, because he hadn’t looked like this last night.
What was in him now was the truth, he was maddened and altered and sanctified by the truth.