15. Emerson #2
I throw my head back, hitting the flat, hard carpet. I rut my hips in the air, pumping into his fist.
“God. Fuck yes,” I practically whine, because I can sense what Bryce is planning. I can see the wheels turning in his head.
He lowers his head to my crotch. I should stop this. This is improper. This is communal space. All sense and sensibility flies out the window as he pulls my raging boner from my boxers, and it disappears into his mouth.
Jesus. We’re only three seconds in, but it’s already the best blow job of my life.
Not that I’ve had many, but still. Top ranking.
Number one. Holy ... crap ... what is he doing with his tongue?
My body crackles with life, every pore and every vein blistering with energy.
I look down and watch his pretty mouth take my cock, his tongue creating some kind of magic on my engorged head.
I loosen my tie and unbutton my shirt. Fuck it. Let’s add to the chaos. Bryce raises a hand to feel my furry stomach. Our neighbors’ apartments are footsteps away, but I need this more than I need to be a good neighbor.
God, I feel like I’m gonna blow right now, but I can’t. I have to hold it in. The temperature gets hotter and hotter. Heat rises, they say. They’ve never meant it as much as they meant it now.
Bryce releases my cock from his mouth with a startled pop. Saliva drips from his chin, tethering his lips to my dick before he wipes it away with the back of his palm.
“Come on,” he says. “Almost there.”
We run up the last flight of stairs laughing like teenagers.
Bryce’s face is so damn beautiful when he laughs, so full of joy.
I’m holding up my pants because I didn’t want to waste time buttoning them.
My cock throbs with need. My chest is scorched with heat.
If the kiss at the opera was an appetizer, then what just happened is like smelling the food from the kitchen and still not getting to dig in.
And Bryce’s ass is swishing in front of me on the stairs, only taunting me more. He looks over his shoulder and snorts a laugh.
“You look like such a fucking mess.”
I’m sure I do, with my hair sticking up and pants and shirt undone. But I’m his mess.
Just before we turn the corner to our floor, I push Bryce against the wall, and I stroke him over his pants.
“I can’t wait to fuck you,” Bryce says. It’s not a question, it’s not a demand—it’s just a statement of fact.
I agree, even though I’m so close to blowing right now. I have to hold back. I need to feel Bryce around me. His lips. His hole. Both clenched around me, begging, begging for more.
“We’re almost there,” I say. I trip over my damn pants on the final stairs. Bryce topples with me. He laughs into my mouth as he kisses me.
I don’t want to break this up because I don’t want this to go away. I just want this. I want to disobey all the laws of physics and transport us to the bedroom right now, together.
Bryce gets back on his knees, takes me in his mouth. This time, he’s not trying to be quiet with his sucking sounds. The slurping echoes in the stairwell.
I fist his hair as I pull him down on me. He looks up at me with hungry eyes, a smirk on his lips as they’re stretched around me.
“Get up here,” I say in a low growl.
Bryce climbs on top of me, and we kiss. My lips are swollen, my mouth is dry, but I don’t want to stop.
I slip a hand down the backside of his pants and let it trace his crack.
I push his pants down so I can grab more of his bare ass.
I pull his cheeks apart, wishing my fingers were elastic and could stretch down to his hole.
“What if we have sex right here?” I ask, completely wrapped up in this moment.
“Without lube? Honey, no. But I love the enthusiasm.” He nibbles at my ear. “A few more steps. We can do it.”
Our door is in sight.
We scramble up the last steps. Bryce’s hands shake with the keys, but finally—after the longest few seconds of my life—he manages to unlock the door, and we’re inside.
His pants fall to the ground, as do mine, and we shuffle to the bedroom, trousers around our ankles.
“Bobo! Off the bed!” we both scream in unison. Bobo leaps onto the floor, and Bryce lovingly nudges him toward the living room.
“I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll give you all the pets and treats in a little bit.” He pats him on the head and closes the bedroom door.
As soon as the door clicks shut, we’re on each other again. His taste on my tongue sends rocket boosters shooting through me. We collapse on the bed together, making out, pantless, our cocks rubbing against each other, yearning for more friction.
I try to take off my blazer while on top of him, really testing my shoulder flexibility.
“Leave it on,” Bryce says. “It’s sexy.”
My hairy chest mashes against his smooth one as the tip of my cock tingles with the heat of his.
“Did you clear out my nightstand drawer?” Bryce asks.
I shake my head no. I don’t use nightstand drawers, so I never thought to clear it out.
Bryce reaches over and pulls out a bottle of lube and a garishly large box of condoms. There’s got to be over forty in the box. “Hop fucking to it.”
He throws his legs over his head in another impressive display of flexibility. He’s half steel and half putty. And he’s all mine. At least for tonight. It’s not like I’m looking for something serious, and judging by the giant box of rubbers in Bryce’s possession, neither is he.
Even without a ton of experience, instinct takes over as I coat his hole with lube, slipping one and then two fingers inside him. His body tenses to my touch until he takes a deep breath, allowing me to slide in and out more easily.
“Fuck, Em,” he moans as his cock leaks precum on his stomach. “Let’s get that farm-boy cock of yours inside me.”
Sometimes, sex requires a lot of foreplay, and other times two guys just want to, well … hop fucking to it.
“Rail me, Emerson.” He holds his cock up. “I need you inside me.”
Has anything sexier ever been said? I fucking melt.
I roll on the condom and coat myself generously with lube. I lean over him, balancing on my elbows. Bryce tangles his fingers around my tie and pulls me close. I thrust into his tight hole as we kiss, and it’s goddamn everything .
He gasps and pants against my lips as I fuck him, deep, forceful humps into his eager hole. I’m sweating extra hard thanks to the six flights of stairs and my heavy blazer. Our slick chests glide together. He pulls harder on my tie, until my face is within reach, and his fingers tangle in my beard.
I push his legs closer to his face, making him spread wider for me. And then, as one of my derelict former students once said of Berlioz’s affair with his mistress Marie Recio, I take him to pound town.
I rest my forehead against his as I fuck him hard and deep.
The bed squeaks for dear life under us, creaking like an out of tune piano.
The headboard bangs with such force I swear it’s going to destroy the drywall.
I cradle Bryce’s beautiful face, soft and perfect in the midst of all this dirty sexual chaos.
I don’t know what I want to say to him. I don’t know what we are to each other. I’ve never felt a connection this strongly to another man. Before the terror of that realization paralyzes me, my orgasm rushes from my balls, and I kiss him while emptying myself inside his clenched hole.
With my cock still hard, I fuck him with my last ounces of strength, and he jerks himself off.
When his ass trembles with pleasure, he gasps, whimpering as he shoots his load.
I stare down at him in awe as the first blast hits his chin.
The next actually goes further, covering his cheek and barely missing his eye.
He laughs, and I plunge deeper as the last burst coats his stomach.
A guttural groan flies out of him as his legs fall to the bed. “If I knew professors could fuck like that, I would’ve gone to college.”
I collapse next to him, my body sinking into the softness of the bed, still warm from the heat of what we just did.
The room is quiet, save for the faint rustling of the sheets and the soft hum of the city outside.
Bryce’s heart beats steadily against the side of my body, a comforting rhythm that grounds me in a way I didn’t expect .
It’s strange, how everything seems clearer now that we’ve fucked like …
“What did you say we were going to fuck like?” I whisper into his damp ear.
“Mmmh? Oh. Jackrabbits.” He snuggles into me, holding me tight.
“Yeah. Jackrabbits. Did we?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Those jackrabbits have nothing on us.” He kisses my shoulder.
I close my eyes, letting myself drift in the softness of the moment, the steady beat of his heart lulling me into a peaceful calm. Whatever comes next, I know we’ll face it together. And for the first time in a long while, I’m not worried.