Chapter 24
Jeff
I loved fucking Brandon in missionary, his body stretched out, his belly taut, one leg resting against my shoulder. I loved it when he was so fucking wet for me that I could almost glide into him. Kissing while I rocked in and out of his boypussy made the act even more intimate, his hands on my waist, his breath leaving him in short gasps, his gaze locked on my face. I loved propping myself up on my hands as I picked up speed, hips pumping, watching him rub his t-dick in frantic little circles, his body clenching around my cock as he orgasmed…
Shooting my load inside him wasn’t the end goal—it was only part of the journey that led to us holding each other, exchanging kisses and soft noises of pleasure while my heartbeat slipped back into its usual rhythm.
I buried my face in his neck, enjoying the high, the mini shocks, the feel of his damp chest against mine. “We might set a record for the most orgasms in one day,” I murmured.
Brandon let out a throaty chuckle. “I’ve already lost count. The joys of being able to have multiple orgasms.” He stroked my back. “And you’re about to have another.”
My hole contracted.
“You’re ready, right?”
I nodded. “As ready as a shower could make me.” I peered at him. “Exactly what are you hiding in that bag?”
Brandon clambered off the bed and crossed the floor to where his bag sat by the window. “You have to pick which dildo you want.” He reached into the bag and withdrew a black harness with a circular hole at the front. Four pop-on clasps held a metal O-ring in place.
“I get a choice? Wow.”
Brandon tossed the harness onto the bed, then delved once more into the bag. “Of course you get a choice. I mean, as it’s your first time, you might prefer something this size.” He held up a lurid purple dildo about three or four inches in length. “Now, this is just a baby one.”
Baby or not, it was a fat one, and my hole tightened at the idea of it stretching me. And then there was its color…
“But… it’s purple,” I protested.
He arched his eyebrows. “So? How will you know what color it is when it’s buried in your ass?”
Fair point.
Then he held up another, and I swear, I nearly had a heart attack.
“Oh my fucking God, that thing’s humongous.”
Brandon laughed. “That’s my Rocco Steele. I also brought my Legrand Wolf. Neither of them are remotely small.”
I gaped at it. “That would be like being fucked by a can of Pringles.”
He snickered. “Hey, not a bad estimate. They’re roughly the same length, and probably just as thick.” Brandon held up both dildoes. “Which one shall it be?”
I pointed to the purple one. “I don’t want to run before I can walk.”
He ditched the Rocco dildo and returned to the bed, placing it on the nightstand where it stood on its flared suction base. I couldn’t stop staring at it.
“Second thoughts?”
I jerked my head in his direction. The little fucker was grinning.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then get on your back and bring your knees to your chest so I can prep you.” His eyes twinkled. “You are flexible enough to do that, right? I mean, at your age…”
I narrowed my gaze. “And at my age, I’ve had plenty of experience delivering a damn good spanking, which you’d do well to remember.”
Brandon brought his hand to his chest. “Ooh, promises, promises.”
Fuck. I had no idea he was into that.
I lay on my back, hooked my arms under my knees, and drew them to my chest, my heart pounding. Brandon climbed back onto the bed and grabbed the bottle of lube.
I craned my neck to glare at him. “Don’t skimp on the lube, okay?”
He crawled between my legs and up my torso to kiss me. “I promised I’d make it good for you, didn’t I?” His voice was soft, with none of its previous humor. Then he kissed me once more before kneeling at my ass.
I knew I shouldn’t hold my breath while he eased a slick finger into my hole—how many anal virgins had I encountered over the years?—but I couldn’t help it. Brandon took his time, his eyes never leaving my face as he prepped me.
When the friction started to feel good, I knew I was ready.
“Okay.”
Brandon secured the base of the dildo in the O-ring, snapped the clasps shut, then put it on, fastening it at the front, a black strap snug against his bonus hole, nestled in his crack. He smeared lube over the vibrantly colored silicone phallus, then gave me an expectant glance.
“How do you want this? Missionary, doggy…”
“I want to see your face,” I blurted.
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He brought the head of the dildo to kiss my hole, then moved, a gentle push of his hips—
And he was inside me.
My breath caught. “Dear Lord, I can feel every inch of that thing.”
Brandon nodded. “When you say the word, I’ll move.” He leaned forward, changing the angle, and I moaned. Our lips met in a lingering kiss, his arms bracketing my head, and I closed my eyes briefly, breathing in his familiar scent.
“Fuck me,” I murmured against his lips. I opened my eyes because I wanted to see him.
Brandon’s pupils dilated, and he slid deeper into my body, a slow and steady motion, filling me, stretching me, until all I knew was that fat silicone cock in me up to the hilt. He kissed me again, except now his tongue mimicked every thrust of that dildo, synchronized as he moved in and out, settling into a rhythm, as regular as a heartbeat.
I let go of my legs and clung to him, my mouth open, noises pouring from me that made no sense whatsoever. He kissed my cheek, my neck, and I dug my fingers into his firm muscular shoulders, buffeted by wave upon wave of pleasure as he lit me up inside. He curled his fingers around my dick, and I groaned.
Brandon pulled virtually all the way out of me, only to recommence fucking me with short thrusts, nailing my prostate every fucking time.
I was done.
I creamed his hand, trembling with every pulse of my cock, unable to rein in my hoarse cries of pleasure, and when I was done and he kissed me, I held him close, the dildo wedged in my ass, my arms around him, both of us panting, painted with a sheen of sweat.
When he’d unstrapped himself from the harness, the dildo on the comforter beside us, we lay together, our arms entwined. It was then I noticed the open window. “Oh God,” I muttered.
Brandon stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“I think we just gave Randy’s elderly straight neighbors a show. An audible one, but…”
He chuckled. “Oops.”
I gave him an inquiring glance. “You are surprisingly skilled with a strap-on.”
Brandon bit his lip. “You noticed that, huh?”
I arched my eyebrows. “Is there a story to this?”
“To cut a long story short, I used a strap-on with a few girls—and a lot of guys—before I transitioned.”
I grinned. “Then you’ve always been a top?”
“Mostly, yeah.” His eyes held a gleam. “You seemed to appreciate my skills.” He tilted his head. “We do get to do this again, right?”
I laughed. “What do you think?”
Both of us jumped when someone knocked at the door, and he gave me a horrified glance. “That isn’t Randy’s neighbors, is it?”
I chuckled. “Come in,” I called out.
Austin stuck his head around the door. “I waited until all the noise stopped,” he said in an apologetic tone.
“What can we do for you?”
“The thing is, Doug’s… well, he’s with Randy and Logan, and I had enough of swimming, and I was just wondering—”
I laughed. “Come on in.”
Austin approached the bed, his eyes gleaming. “Think you’ve got another load in you?”
I snorted. “What you mean is, you’d like another load in you .”
He rolled his eyes. “Well duh.”
I patted the bed. “Climb aboard.”
Brandon sat up. “Okay if I sit this one out? I’d rather get comfy on the couch and watch, if you don’t mind.” He grinned. “For real, this time.”
I smiled. “Sure. You need a rest after that.”
Brandon kissed me, then got off the bed, kissing Austin’s cheek as he passed him, heading to the couch.
Before he’d sat down, there was another knock at the door. “Can we come in?” Travis called out. “That’s if you want to play.”
I glanced at Brandon, and we laughed.
It seemed both of us were suffering from a serious case of déjà vu.