Chapter 14 #3
Austin bounded up the stairs to my office, his makeshift guest room, and I watched him go, able to follow his entire ascent since the lofts were so open.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind that it was very unlike me to have picked a place with no privacy, it made me realize how much I had intended to live there alone.
After having Austin share my space, I wasn’t sure I’d appreciate the isolation as much.
Austin leaned over, his taut muscles and defined ass bunching at the motion as he picked something up off the floor, his backpack, I thought, and rooted around in it, displaying an anxious energy I hadn’t seen in him before. Apparently successful in his search, he turned around to catch me staring.
“Found ’em!” He held up a hand that was wrapped around something I couldn’t see from my distance.
He was relaxed and smiling down at me, covering the nervous energy he had displayed when he thought I wasn’t looking.
The look turned stern, yet his tone remained playful as he said, “I thought I told you to lie down.” He turned and headed toward me then and I leaned on to the table, hoisting myself up to sit on the blanket.
He was in front of me in a moment, placing a small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms next to me on the table and slotting himself between my legs.
My hard-on had waned as I’d watched him hunt for supplies, but his was still stiff and protruding straight out between us.
I grabbed it and stroked him, and my moan rivaled the grunt he let out at the touch.
Copious amounts of pre-cum guided my way, and just as I was thinking of picking up the pace or bunching myself down to get my mouth on him, he put pressure on my shoulders, looking me in the eye playfully.
“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come all over you.”
“Yes, please.” I matched his playful tone and twisted my hand in a way that had him throwing his head back, but his moan turned into a grunt of frustration as he pulled himself out of my grip, kissing me soundly as he guided me to a prone position.
My legs were dangling, but with a gentle touch, he guided them up, resting my feet on the table so that I was displayed before him once more.
He made quick but careful work of opening me up, coating me in lube as he stretched me open, his eyes on mine the whole time.
When he took a step back, I felt the loss so keenly an embarrassing whimper escaped me. He’d been focused on applying the condom, but he looked up at me then, a bit of that nervous energy in his eyes. “Me too, babe,” he said as he reached for the lube and slathered it on the condom.
He stepped forward, keeping his eyes locked with mine. He grabbed one of my legs and wrapped it around his hip. I could see the mark he’d left on my inner thigh from my new angle. He smiled at me then, though maybe I’d smiled at him first.
“Ready?”
“Yes, please,” I repeated and watched his gaze turn from laughing to intense as his cock brushed my hole.
I imagined my face did the same. He was barely touching me there, the head of his cock brushing and teasing like the tip of his tongue had, but even that was enough to cause me to arch back in pleasure.
Austin’s fingertips danced lightly down my torso, and I felt like I was reaching out to him, arching up into his touch and thrusting forward with the little purchase I had, anxious to have him inside me.
I could feel my cock filling once again in anticipation.
Austin’s gentle touch kept me in the prone position, and he moved a hand to wrap around my thighs, tightening me to him as his other hand guided his dick to my hole.
He breached me and stopped immediately, hugging my leg and watching for my reaction.
My dick twitched at the sensation but also due to the look in his eyes, the care, the caution.
He clocked it, looked down at it, then back up at me.
“Yeah?”
I simply nodded, afraid any word I’d try to utter would come out as a grunt or a moan. He let go of my legs to find the bottle of lube and drizzle more over his dick and around my hole.
“Sorry,” he said, then he muttered, “Messy.”
I thought his concern would overwhelm me, so I intentionally didn’t respond to his apology, though I did find my voice, which was needy and heavy with desire.
“Now, sweetheart. I’m ready.” He embraced both legs, and I shoved onto him as he thrust into me.
He held still then, clinging to my leg with one hand, the other resting on my thigh, practically brushing the tip of my leaking cock, which lay stiff and ready on my stomach.
I could feel the tension in him, the need to begin, but he held that position and held my gaze as the words, “Feels so good,” spilled out of him.
“You need to fuck me, sweetheart,” I said desperately, but all he did was tighten his grip and shove in that little bit more. His other hand played in the slick moisture collecting on my stomach, but he continued to avoid my needy cock.
“Not yet,” he said, and we were still for a few more beats before he slowly pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back in again, his fingertips gliding at the same slow pace.
“You need to be ready for me, babe. This needs to be perfect for you.” He glided out and back in, and there was that little burn and the odd feeling of fullness.
But the feeling of connection and raw sensation overshadowed it so completely.
I was desperate to start, but he was in command.
Slowly gliding in and out, sparking me from the inside with his cock and from the outside with those teasing fingertips.
“So good,” he moaned as he entered me once more, and I shifted a little as I rocked with him. We found that spot with our shared motions, and it had me whining in such a primal manner that it sounded foreign to my own ears.
“Yeah?” he questioned again, sounding pleased with himself, then he thrust again, finally picking up the pace as he aimed for his target over and over again.
Sounds poured out of me, the sounds of a stranger coming out of my own mouth.
We worked together to rock and fuck, him seeking that spot and me dancing my hips and flexing to entice him.
It hit me in that moment, my prostate being stroked over and over as a beautiful young man pounded into me, and I tried to twist and squeeze an orgasm out of him; it hit me that I was solely focused on his pleasure, and more extraordinarily, he was solely focused on mine.
I could see it in his face, in the concentration, there and I could feel it inside me, the way he moved and sought and reveled in the finding.
I’d never really had that, and I thought I might cry.
Instead, I tapped the hand on my stomach. “Sweetheart, please.”
I shifted enough for him to get the message, and he pulled out, lowering my legs. “What’s wrong?”
I sat up and reached for his head until he bent, and I could kiss him. I pulled back and looked at him. I could feel the few tears that had escaped me, and I tried to ignore them, but he wiped them away from one side, looking on with concern.
Like so many of the experiences of the last few moments, the sensations, the sounds, the tears, when the smile lit up my face, I could feel that it was unlike any smile I had cast before.
“Absolutely nothing is wrong, sweetheart. I just need us to be closer.”
He brought a bit of levity to the moment, raising his eyebrows and smiling back. “Babe, are you suggesting we use the bed?”
I hadn’t known exactly what I was suggesting until that moment.
“Nope.” I laughed right back at him as I stood up, grabbed the blanket, and took his hand, leading him to the rug in front of the fireplace.
For a beat we stood, holding hands, the fire dancing in both of our eyes.
Then I let go, flicked the blanket open, and lay myself down on the floor, opening my legs in invitation.
“Randall.” He sighed as he lowered himself to his knees between my legs.
He entered me again in one sure motion. He fucked in and out a few times, holding my legs open, and the thought crossed my mind that we hadn’t really changed positions, that he was still a distance from me, that maybe I had misinterpreted the moment, and that what I wanted wasn’t what he wanted.
Then he dropped his weight down on me, kissing me once before looking so deeply into my eyes I felt I would never be able to keep anything from him. He proved the theory by asking, “What’s got you thinking so hard? Are you not comfortable?”
I answered by joining our lips again, shaking my head no as we kissed.
I wrapped my legs tightly around him and rocked my hips.
He got into the action, and we found a rhythm, our pace increasing, my cock trapped between us, leaking onto both of our stomachs, chasing for friction as my hips chased that feeling that came every time Austin hit me in the right spot.
“Want you,” I finally confessed. It wasn’t a fulsome answer, but I hoped, combined with my actions, that it conveyed my feelings. “Need you to come inside me. Need to feel you.”
Austin didn’t respond with words, but he raised himself on his arms for more leverage, pumping and smashing himself into my cock.
My hand found its way between us, and as I stroked and squeezed myself, I flexed and clenched my inner muscles.
Austin still plunged deep, seeking to hit my pleasure center as often as possible, and he kept himself tight to me, my hand mashed between us, fighting for room to move.
“Together,” I thought, but his smile let me know I had said it aloud. Our eyes once again locked, I asked, “Does this feel good? Tell me you feel good?”