20. Malcolm
MALCOLM
T onight has felt like a series of small miracles. Ryan’s desire is more potent than it’s ever been, and mine is close to suffocating me.
“I need you to fuck me,” I say when the backs of my knees hit the mattress.
“Good, because I need to be inside you.” Ryan positions our cocks between us, both erect—mine leaking like crazy.
Once they’re side by side, he pulls me close, pressing them between our lower abs.
With one hand on my ass, he uses his other hand to grip my jaw and pull me in for a long, muscle weakening kiss.
His tongue drags along the surface of mine, his plush lips covering my mouth.
I’ve never cared much for kissing. It’s necessary foreplay, a means to an end, but never something I’ve derived much meaning from, or placed any importance on.
Kaylin’s kisses are small and sweet, more lips than tongue.
In high school, she was more audacious, but as we grew up and got used to each other, the heat dissipated.
It’s not like either of us were going to come from kissing, so we usually just fast forwarded to the orgasm making .
But now, in the wake of Ryan’s kiss, I have another word for kissing Kaylin.
Dispassionate. His assault on my mouth is erotic torture.
It’s got me wanting things I didn’t know to want.
It’s got me dying to put my mouth on every inch of him, taste his sweat and blood.
It has me near desperate to pull the words from his chest—the ones he told me years ago—with my fucking teeth. He’s taking me the fuck apart. Again .
I want to break away to say please, Jesus, make it stop, fill me up, shut off my heart, my brain, but I can’t stop letting his tongue into my mouth.
I’m on the bed somehow, and he’s on top of me, grinding our cocks together and kissing the fuck out of me. My legs are locked around him, and I’m rocking with him, my balls tight and hot, my hole wide open, stretching enough that there’s a slight burn I crave more of.
His head drops to my chest, and I throw my head back to gasp for air.
His mouth closes around one of my nipples, and I jerk with the electric shock that lights up my spine.
My balls pulse viciously, and it’s like a bonfire flares in my pelvis.
I come so unbelievably hard my back comes off the bed, and the cat yowls at the noise I make.
Did that just happen? What the hell? When did I get so easy?
“Fuck,” he groans. “Turn the fuck over.”
I don’t think I do it, I think he does. A few seconds later, anyway, I’m on my stomach and cold lube is stuffing my ass on his thrusting, curling fingers.
“Shit, oh shit…” I whimper, trying to get on my knees.
He lifts my hips and holds them in place with an arm beneath me, buying me time to make my body work again.
“You want it like last time?” he asks.
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
Or no… No, I want him to punch into me. Make me feel it ev erywhere. Shock me and push me to my limit. Make me feel every ounce of pain I deserve, and the pleasure I can’t help but take. But all I can say is his name. “ Please, Ryan… ”
I hear the rip of a condom packet, and I manage a no, too.
“No?” he asks.
“No condom,” I tell him. “Just you.”
“I always…”
“Please…just you.”
He kisses my back, his hair grazing my shoulder blades. His hand moves up and down my thigh. I can sense his hesitation, but more than that—his silky, hot cock rubbing against my hole, telegraphing his need.
“I love you. Please…”
His hand on my thigh stills and grips. His lips close around a kiss on my shoulder. I lose the hand on my leg, but I gain the direct nudge of his crown on my hole. Holding my breath, I let him in. The stretch is exquisite. A burn so bright and intense, all my air comes out in a deep “ Uuummph .”
His forward progress is careful, and he hisses like he’s the one on fire.
I reach down, touching my belly, wanting to feel him as he stuffs his thick cock into my ass.
I’m not sure what I’m feeling until my balls snap forward to graze my fingertips as his hips drive his dick in as deep as it goes.
Flesh smacks flesh with a bold, thudding noise.
His teeth dig into the strained tendon that connects my neck to my shoulder, and then his hand is in my hair, holding my head against the mattress.
It’s so much . So all-consuming—extreme—I think I’ll never fully get used to it, and I love that. I love that this one part of him will always torture me just a little. Beyond enough.
When he moves, it’s not more than an inch or so, but it undoes me.
Curses fly from my mouth, along with praise and pleas for more and worse and deeper .
Keeping his hand on my head to hold me down, he fucks me.
He fucks me until I’m sputtering and drooling, unable to shut my mouth to properly swallow.
His long, thick cock hollows me out and fills me up. He tunnels in deep and withdraws until the burn nearly has me screaming, and then he pounds home again.
I hear myself say “harder,” and I feel him comply.
His hips hit my ass so hard, my butt cheeks heat like they’re being spanked.
Then, in feral Ryan fashion, he hooks one of his legs over mine, changing the angle to drive downward, nailing my prostate with each ramming thrust. He’s got speed, power, and so much fucking finesse, I can’t imagine anyone being better in bed, and I don’t think I’m being biased.
My semi-erect cock bobs back and forth, slapping my abs and my balls as he jams into me over and over again.
“So fucking tight,” he grunts. “So fucking good. I’m gonna come so fucking hard in your ass, Mal. You’ll leak all the way into next week.”
Shit…Is he saying that to me ? Why is his dirty mouth so goddamn hot?
“Give it to me,” I grunt. “Give me all your fucking cum.”
His makes a fist in my hair and pulls, adding something new and delicious to what’s already epic overload. “That’s what you want?”
“I need it.”
He lets go of my hair and braces his hand on my shoulder, using his grip to hold me still so he can rail my ass as hard and fast as he needs to get off.
I hear him break before I feel it, a ragged gasp and a low, short groan.
“ Mal… ” His cock throbs his release inside me.
Hypersensitive and raw, I feel every spasming contraction of his dick and every hot gush of his long release.
The vibrations aren’t much in the grand scheme of things, but my prostate thinks they’re the best thing that’ve ever happened to it.
My barely erect dick squirts out a thin stream of cum that does no justice to the orgasm taking over my entire body.
It’s got me roaring, toes curling, abs quivering, ass clenching, and my tight, reactive clench has Ryan crying out in shock. Or aftershock.
Like I said—it’s all a little extra. A bit too fucking much.
We’re like two chemicals that shouldn’t combine without major precautions being taken first inside a sealed room.
Explosive only begins to cover it. He slides his cock out of me slowly before carefully lowering me back to the bed.
His weight then disappears from the mattress, and I lie there limply, legs half-splayed, trying to catch my breath as my own aftershocks snake through me, making me quiver and breaking chills out on my skin.
My eyes close, but I feel his weight return and the warm, wet towel against my hole. “No blood,” he says.
“Good.” I had myself half-convinced the bleeding was what put him off me for four days, so I’m proud of my hole for not letting me down this time. “Does that mean we can go again later?”
His laugh is warm and soft. “Depends how fucking crazy you make me. We’ll see.”
“Gonna make you so fucking crazy, Ry.”
“You sound high.”
“I am…high off your dick.”
“You need to shut up.”
“I’m shutting up. Sort of. Wanna talk to you. Wanna hold you. I wanna tell you all my shit.”
The gentle wiping up he’s doing stops. “You don’t have to.”
My eyes squeeze tight. Hot tears threaten behind them. Maybe he wouldn’t call that a rejection, but it hurts. Or maybe I’m just too fucking emotional after getting fucked like that .
I pinch my eyes with my fingers and get myself under control. What comes out is a weak attempt at a joke. “One minute you want it, the next minute you don’t… What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?”
He huffs. “Give me a second.”
He goes into the bathroom again, and when he comes back, he pulls back the covers and gets into bed. “Come here,” he urges.
I shift around, finally managing to wiggle under the covers with him. He’s got an open arm I lie on, and he pulls me against his side. I rest my hand on his stomach, lightly tracing the line of dark hair on his lower abs. It’s even better and sexier than it was in my daydreams.
He reaches out and turns off the light. I don’t think it’s all that late, but the sun has set. The streetlight outside his living room puts plenty of light into his bedroom, though. In the outline of the bay window, Bud is sitting up, looking out.
“Shit,” I whisper. “Stephanie’s all by herself.”
“Fuck. You want me to go grab her?”
“Like take a Lyft to my place, pick up the dog, and get a ride back?” I ask in disbelief.
“I mean…”
“No, I’ll just…I’ll go home in a little bit.”
He holds me tighter. “Wish you didn’t have to.”
“At least you’ll be able to sleep,” I say.
Also, the fact that I have an excuse to go definitely limits my options for launching into the dreary subject of my homosexual origin story.
It’s not the kind of thing I can just drop and run.
I’d lose my mind without talking it out.
It’s one of those things that requires multiple levels of explanation and probably provokes more questions than it answers.
“Can you come back in the morning?” he asks. “Bring her with you so you don’t have to worry about it?”
“Um. Sure,” I say, surprised by the request.