Chapter 15 #2
We haven’t broached this subject past the day we agreed to start messing around. The anal. But logically...that’s the next step. And as insane as it might sound, I want it. To be buried deep inside him. I wanna be the first person to give this to him, while he tries to sort this shit in his head.
And yeah...my dick really likes the idea of fucking my best friend.
Keene’s breathing slows and he steps closer to the camera so I’m only able to see his collarbone and above. I’m transfixed on the way the water falls over the freckles on his shoulders in vividly high definition this close.
His voice comes out like gravel. “You want that?”
Mine is just as rough. “Do you?”
I watch as his head dips down, seemingly looking at the floor before brown orbs grab hold of mine once again. Instead of answering me, he reaches over again and brings a bottle of conditioner I know smells like citrus into view.
Then he steps backward, away from the camera.
Once. Twice.
And then I see it.
His cock. Standing at full mast, begging to be touched as he pours the liquid into his palm.
“Yeah, Pen,” he finally says, his voice low, almost blending with the sound of the water. He grabs his cock, sliding his fist up and down the length, coating and lathering it. “I think it’s pretty clear I do want that.”
I’m transfixed by his cock, the way he strokes it. Rolls over the head on every third upstroke. Fuck, even when he’s prepping his dick, his slight obsessive compulsive tendencies have a way of coming out.
I don’t know why my noticing makes this even...hotter. But I’m scorching.
“That’s mine,” I tell him, my dick aching for me to take pity on it and join him in this little display. But I hold out. I have to or I’ll come within ten seconds of watching him. “What makes you think you can touch it like that?”
The desire in his expression wavers for a moment and he smiles from ear-to-ear. “Yours, huh? Never took you for the possessive one. You jealous of my hand?”
Yes. I want it to be my mouth.
But I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of admitting I want him coming on my chest or down my throat rather than in a shower over a thousand miles away.
God, I’m well and truly fucked here.
“I’m not just talking about your cock, Kee,” I growl out the words.
“I’m going to lick every inch of your body before fucking you so hard, you have no choice but to remember what I’m about to tell you.
No option but to hear me when I say this.
” I lick my lips and lower my voice, my eyes locked on the hand still wrapped around his cock.
“You. Are. Mine. You belong to me and me alone.”
I hear a soft intake of breath before Keene visibly shudders at my words. It makes me feel on top of the goddamn world, seeing my effect on him mirrors his on me.
“Fuck, Pen.” A groan escapes him as his hand moves faster over his shaft. “Why’re you not here right now? Why am I in Arizona instead of in your bed?”
“Because you’re the best goddamn catcher Foltyn has had in years. And because if I was there right now...” I trail off, swallowing. “I don’t think I could stop myself from railing you into the goddamn tile wall of that shower.”
“I want that,” he pants, his head lulling back against the wall with his eyes closed. “I want that.”
My cock is throbbing and I reach down and squeeze it, doing my best to tamp down the ache, but it’s not working. At this rate, watching him alone will have me blowing in my pants like a preteen.
Again.
“You’re not ready for me yet,” I tell him. “You have to prep. Go get some lube. Use your fingers. Work yourself open, right now. So I can make it good for you.”
He swallows, still stroking his cock. His head sinks back against the tile wall, getting lost in the pleasure he’s bringing himself. “Keep talking to me, Pen. I’m so close.”
“Keene,” I growl out his name, forcing his eyes to snap back open. He’s not coming. Not until his fingers are in his ass and my name is on his fucking lips. “Put your fingers in your ass.”
He shakes his head. “No lube.”
I lick my lips and squeeze my shaft, refusing to pull myself free. I need my full attention on him. “Use something else. The conditioner.”
Keene releases himself instantly, grabbing for the bottle of conditioner. He squirts a small amount on his fingers before rubbing it around.
“In your ass, Kee. I don’t have all night.” My voice comes out strained. I’m barely keeping myself together as I watch his dick sway when he props one leg up against the wall of the shower stall best he can to get a good angle.
I don’t miss his wince as his index finger presses into him either.
“God, it burns.”
Shit.
“I know, but it’ll get better. I promise. Just breathe.”
I don’t know this. Not at-fucking-all. I could be cluelessly feeding him lies and it gets a lot worse. But I do know one finger won’t be worse than my cock if he isn’t prepared for it.
A deep breath leaves him as he starts working his finger inside him, but his leg keeps slipping down the wall, halting him from getting to where he needs to be. Where I want him.
“Turn and press your knee into the corner.”
He obeys, giving me the most glorious angle to see both his cock and his ass swallowing his finger whole. The new positioning works for him better. He’s able to get in deeper and he even starts stroking his cock again after leaning against the wall to his side for better balance.
He’s a literal wet dream. Hard and muscled and all man, fucking his fist and his ass at the same time. Giving me my own private show.
My God, I might burst at the seams. Nothing I’ve ever done has been this erotic.
A soft moan escapes him and his hand starts moving faster again. But I’m greedy. I need more from him.
“Add another finger. Work yourself open for me.”
“You’re killing me here,” he grumbles, his head slanting against the tile. He listens though, and I watch as a second finger starts to ease inside with the first.
“That’s it, Kee,” I praise him, my voice dripping with heat and arousal, a vice grip around my shaft. I don’t even catch the term of endearment slipping past my lips right away. “You’re gonna be such a tight fit around my cock, baby. Snug and warm and fucking perfect.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, pumping himself harder.
Faster. Fucking frantic. I can tell the moment he hits the right spot inside his ass—the promised land that is the prostate—because a string of expletives leaves his mouth and cum shoots out of him, coating the wall he’s facing.
And my entire body is on fire.
No, I’ve ignited into an inferno of desire, disintegrating into finely ground ashes as he strokes himself through his climax. Two fingers lodged in his ass. A fist around his cock.
My name leaving his mouth in an impassioned growl, thick with lust.
It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to wipe this memory from my brain, even if I wanted to.
Keene is a shuddering mess as he pulls his fingers free and starts cleaning up best he can. I can tell he’s exhausted from the heat of the shower, the orgasm, and I’m sure from the game he played earlier as well.
But he’s smiling like an idiot, so that must be a good sign.
Once he’s cleaned himself off as well as the shower, he turns off the water, grabs the phone, and slides down the tiled wall.
“God, that was amazing. I’ve never come like that before.” He runs his fingers through his wet hair, his biceps flexing at the movement.
The sight of them makes me perfectly aware of how hard I still am.
Still, I smile in accomplishment. “Looks like you were right. You have bottom written all over you.”
He snorts. “Until you try it and want to take it away from me, the jackass you are.”
My throat seizes at his words, my skin crawling slightly at the idea of a role reversal. But I don’t comment back sarcastically like I normally would, just hit him with facts.
“You need to keep doing that if you want a dick to fit. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His eyes roll. “I know that. It’s not like I’m gonna try to ride your dick tomorrow or something.”
I try to push that image from my mind, because holy shit, it might be the hottest thing I could imagine. Keene on top of me, my cock sliding in and out of his ass.
“I want you to be able to take a third finger by the time you’re home on Sunday,” I growl out.
I try not to think about him spending his downtime finger-fucking his own ass over the weekend because the pain my dick is in might actually cause it to combust. “Do you hear me? I want three of my fingers milking your prostate on Sunday night when you get home.”
He smiles at me through the phone, still sated and happy as a clam, and lets out a sarcastic, “Yes, sir.”
My dick officially has a pulse at this point. “Call me that again. See what happens next time I have you alone.”
Keene just grins wider. “Goodnight, Pen. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I swallow, desperate to keep him on the line so I can get off too, yet knowing he needs to rest for tomorrow. “Of course. Night, Kee.”
The call disconnects and a massive weight hits my chest, more cumbersome than an anvil being dropped from the Empire State Building.
Yet instead of focusing on it, I push it aside for the time being.
I have to take care of the insane boner tenting my shorts first before I allow myself to analyze what just happened.
Pulling my cock free, I feel hotter and thicker and heavier than ever. It’s almost painful.
Scratch that, it is painful and I need some relief. I don’t even bother with lube, just spit a few times into my palm before taking care of the ache.
And as I picture my best friend fingering his own ass, I come harder than I ever have in my life.