Chapter 7
It’s not a sweet, gentle kiss. Oh no. It’s a desperate, hungry clash of teeth and tongues.
A mess. A wet, frantic, almost violent joining that’s more like a fight than anything else.
We’re battling for control. He bites my lower lip, and I groan into his mouth, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the damp skin and the hard muscle beneath.
I kiss him with all the frustration and confusion and want that’s been building inside me all day.
He kisses me back just as hard, one hand sliding down my back to grab my ass, pulling me against him even tighter.
Our bodies are a tangle of slick, sweaty limbs, our cocks grinding together between us.
His lips are surprisingly soft. A little chapped from the sun and wind, but soft. His tongue is in my mouth, and I suck on it, tasting that sugary sports drink he’s always chugging.
I’ve kissed a lot of girls. A lot. Some were good, some were bad. But none of them have ever kissed me like this. None of them have ever made me feel so consumed, so utterly devoured. It’s like he’s trying to crawl inside me, to possess me from the inside out.
I don’t think I could get any harder, but I do. My cock throbs between us, smearing precum against his stomach. His is just as hard, and we grind our hips together, seeking the friction we both desperately need.
His stubble scratches against my chin, and I know I’ll have beard burn after this. I’ve seen those red marks on girls after they hook up with guys. Now I’m one of them.
When we finally break apart, we’re both gasping for air. My lips feel swollen and bruised. There’s a smear of spit on his chin, and when I wipe it away with my thumb, the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Fuck, that was…” he trails off. I’ve never seen him speechless before.
“Yeah.”
He’s still got that death grip on my ass. He uses it to turn me around, pushing me toward his desk, which is cluttered with textbooks and empty protein shake containers. “That chair you won. Fair and square, by the way. Let’s officially break it in.”
He sits down, the gaming chair creaking under his weight. His hard cock, glistening with lube and my own slickness, stands up between his thighs. He strokes it once, twice, spreading the fluid over the head, and looks up at me.
“C’mere. Sit on it.” He pats one of his muscular thighs.
I don’t hesitate. I straddle him, my knees hooking over the armrests on either side, spreading me wide open.
Our chests press together, and I feel the frantic thud of his heart against mine.
One hand goes to my hip, the other guides his cock back to my hole.
I’m still loose and wet from before, and he slides in with one smooth, easy thrust.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, my head falling forward, my forehead resting against his. “Oh, fuck, that’s deep.”
“Yeah?” His hands are on my ass again, encouraging me to move. “Let’s see how deep you can take it.”
My hands grip his shoulders for leverage, and I start to ride him.
This position gives me more control. I can set the pace, can take what I need.
And right now, I need all of him. I want him so deep inside me I’ll be able to feel him for days.
I want to be sore tomorrow. I want to be reminded of this every time I sit down.
He leans in and kisses my neck, sucking a mark into the skin. “That’s it, Jay. Ride my fucking cock. Show me how bad you want it.”
I’m shameless now. All pretense gone. I’m riding my buddy’s dick like my life depends on it, chasing that fullness, that deep, throbbing pressure I discovered today. He’s hitting the spot from a new angle, sending bursts of pleasure up my spine.
“You’re so fucking hot like this,” he murmurs against my skin. “All sweaty and desperate. Taking what you need. Never seen you like this, Jay.” He bites my earlobe. “I like it.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. All my energy is focused on the movement of my body, the slick drag of his cock inside me, the feel of his hands on my skin.
I’m completely lost in the sensation. The only sounds in the room are our ragged breaths, the creak of the chair, and the wet, rhythmic slap of my ass against his thighs.
His hands are everywhere. Running up my back, tugging at my hair, kneading my ass.
They slide around to my chest, thumbs brushing over my nipples.
I’ve never really paid much attention to my nipples before, but the way he’s touching them, the rough scrape of his calloused thumbs, sends a jolt straight to my dick.
“Sensitive?” he asks, a smug little laugh in his voice.
“Shut up,” I gasp, but I arch my back, pushing my chest further into his hands.
He does it again, a little harder this time, rolling the peaks between his fingers. I groan, my rhythm faltering. “Never knew about this, huh? So many new things we’re learning about each other today. Like what a fantastic ass you have.”
“You never… noticed before?” I manage in between breaths.
“Oh, I noticed. Just never thought I’d get to… y’know.” He pauses, gripping my hips and slamming up into me. “Never thought I’d get to fuck it.”
“You came up with the—ahh, fuck—the bet.” I grind down on him, taking him as deep as I can.
“Best idea I’ve ever had, if I say so myself,” he grunts, picking up the pace. He’s taking over now, driving into me from below, the force of his thrusts making the chair protest with every rock. His hands are back on my ass, holding me open for him. “And now I want to fill you up, Jay.”
My head falls back, a moan tearing from my throat. His words are hitting me just as hard as his cock. Fill me up.
“Fill me up with what?” I breathe, playing dumb. I want to hear him say it.
“You know what,” he growls. “Cum. I want to pump you so full of it, it’ll be leaking out of you all night.” His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass. “You want that? You want me to breed this tight little hole?”
“Will you be a gentleman and lick it clean afterward?”
“Jesus Christ, Jay,” he manages through a laugh. “The things that come out of your mouth.” He slaps my ass, a sharp crack that makes me clench around him. “Glad to know I’m not the only one with dirty thoughts.”
“So? Will you?”
“Absolutely. I’ll tongue-fuck my cum right back into you.” He’s panting now, the words coming out in ragged bursts. “How about that? You like that idea?”
“Yeah,” I whine. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good. ‘Cause I’m close. So fucking close, Jay.” One of his hands leaves my ass and wraps around my cock, which has been slapping against his stomach with every bounce. His grip is iron.
“Stone—”
“I know. Me too.” His thumb swipes over the head, smearing the precum that’s been steadily leaking from the tip. “Come for me. I want to feel it. Want to feel your ass clamp down on me when you shoot.”
He’s hitting that spot with every upward thrust now. His fist is flying up and down my shaft, the slick sounds mingling with the creak of the chair and our harsh breathing. I’m right there, balancing on a knife’s edge, my whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.
“Promise me one more thing,” I gasp out, my vision starting to blur.
“Anything.”
“Fuck me again. In the morning.”
“First thing. I’ll wake you up with my dick in your ass,” he vows. “Now come for me, Jay. I’m not gonna last.”
“And the day after that.”
“Every day,” he grits out. “I’ll fuck your greedy little hole every day from now on.”
He kisses me, hard and messy, and that’s all it takes.
The combination of his fist, his cock, and his tongue in my mouth sends me flying.
A blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure crashes over me.
I cry out, a raw, broken sound, as my cock erupts in his hand.
Thick ropes of cum streak across his chest and stomach, and my ass convulses, clamping down on him like a vise, and I feel him spasm inside me.
“Fuck, yeah,” he roars into my mouth as he follows me over the edge. I feel him swell inside me, then a hot, wet pulse as he empties himself deep in my ass. Another pulse, and another. He keeps thrusting, riding out his orgasm, pushing his cum as deep as it will go.
There’s so much of it. A warmth that floods my insides, a liquid heat that escapes around the edges of his cock, trickling down my thighs.
We come and come, a seemingly endless flood that leaves us both shaking.
I don’t think I’ve ever come this hard in my life. Not with a girl, not by myself. My whole body is wrung out. I slump against him, a boneless, sweaty mess, my head resting on his shoulder. My chest is heaving, and my heart is hammering against my ribs.
For a long moment, the only sound is our breathing, slowly returning to normal.
He’s still inside me, softening, but I don’t want to move.
I don’t want to break the spell. The chair is sticky with my cum, his chest is a mess, and the whole room has that artificial peach scent mixed with the smell of sex.
“Holy shit,” Stone finally says, his voice a rumble against my ear. “Holy fucking shit, Jay.”
“Yeah,” I manage. “That’s one way to put it.”
He pulls out carefully, and I feel a gush of warmth follow. A truly obscene amount of fluid trickles down my inner thigh. I look down. The chair, the floor, us—we’re a disaster zone. A crime scene of cum and lube. I’m full of him, marked by him, covered in him.
And I’ve never felt better.
He pushes himself to a standing position, pulling me up with him. My legs are shaking so bad I can barely stand. I wobble, and he puts a steadying arm around my waist, holding me against him. Our sweaty, cum-slick bodies stick together.
Another kiss. This one is different. Slower. Softer. More thorough. It’s a kiss of exploration, of lazy, post-orgasmic bliss. He licks into my mouth, and I taste him. My best friend.
When he pulls back, he looks down at the mess on my thighs, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. “Time to keep a promise.”
He grabs my waist and turns me around, guiding me forward until my hips bump the edge of his cluttered desk. Papers slide. A protein shaker rolls and hits the floor.
“Stay there,” he says.
Then he drops to his knees behind me. My cock gives a weak little twitch at the sight.
He grabs my ass, pulling my cheeks apart, and then he’s there.
I feel the flat of his tongue, warm and wet, lapping at my dripping hole.
I groan, my hands flying out to steady myself against the desk, scattering a stack of textbooks.
He’s not shy about it. He eats my ass like he’s starving for it. His tongue probes me, swirling, gathering up the mess he made, tasting me, tasting himself. His stubble scrapes against the tender skin.
“Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, the words vibrating against my hole. “Taste so fucking good.” He pushes his tongue inside, and I cry out, my knees buckling. He holds me up, his hands digging into my hips, as he fucks me with his tongue, just like he promised.
When he finally pulls away, I’m gasping for breath, my cheek pressed against the cool surface of the desk. My legs are jelly. My entire body feels like it’s been put through a wringer and then stitched back together.
Stone gives my ass one last sharp slap as he stands. “Told you I’d clean it up.”
“Talking about cleaning up…” I say, pushing myself up on trembling arms. “That pile of sweaty gear on the floor? That’s your first load, my friend.”
We both look at the pile of our discarded clothes. Crumpled socks, compression shorts, our jerseys. The evidence of the most insane, unbelievable day of my life.
“A whole month, remember?” I tease. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of laundry.”
He saunters over to the pile, scooping it all up with one hand. His cock, now soft but still impressively thick, swings between his legs. He shoves the whole mess into his hamper.
“Yeah, but something tells me I’m getting the better end of this deal.” He looks back at me, grinning. “I get to fuck that ass whenever I want.”
He walks to the mini-fridge in the corner and pulls out two waters, tossing one to me. I almost fumble it. My coordination is shot. He takes a long swallow, watching me over the top of the bottle. “So, tomorrow morning…”
I take a greedy gulp of my own water. My throat is raw from all the noises I’ve been making. “You’d better set an alarm."
The predatory gleam in his eye is back. He downs the rest of his water in one go, crushes the plastic bottle in his fist, and tosses it into the recycling bin. A perfect, three-point shot. Of course.
“Don’t need one,” he says, winking. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway.”
“You’re gonna wear me out, Stone.”
“That’s the idea.” He stretches, muscles pulling taut. “Gonna shower. Coming?”
“Yeah, in a sec.” I need a minute. My brain is still trying to catch up with my body.
I can still feel him inside me, a phantom fullness.
A phantom warmth. I lean against the desk, feeling the cum cooling on my stomach, the sweat drying on my skin, and watch him walk into the bathroom.
That same confident, cocky stride I’ve seen a thousand times.
But now I know what it feels like to have him on top of me.
Inside me. I know the taste of his kiss, the sound of his groan.
I run a hand through my messy hair, then wince as I touch the side of my neck. A definite hickey is blooming there—a mark.
The water starts in the shower. A loud, familiar hiss. I hear Stone humming, some off-key pop song he’s been blasting all week. It’s so normal. So us. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d hallucinated the last few hours.
Then I see the purple plug on the nightstand, next to the half-used bottle of lube. It’s streaked with fluids. A grimy little trophy. I pick it up.
The thing that started all this. A stupid dare. A month of laundry and a gaming chair.
Best bet I ever made.
I toss the plug onto Stone’s pillow, a little gift for him to find later, and head for the shower.
Time to get dirty again.
The End