Twenty-One Arya
twenty-one
Arya
This was a mistake.
Probably.
But weren’t mistakes supposed to feel bad?
This felt amazing.
Ben’s skin was sweet heaven as Arya traced it with his fingertips.
Ben’s cologne, sandalwood now mingled with rainwater, was nirvana.
And that little spot beneath Ben’s jaw, the one that made him absolutely melt?
Slowly, slowly, Arya dragged his teeth up the cord of Ben’s neck, down the angle of his jaw, before planting his lips on that spot and teasing it with his tongue.
He nearly had to hold Ben upright, the way his legs shook, the way he gripped Arya’s waist harder, breathed heavier.
How could that be a mistake?
“Easily!” said the little Ramin angel that only seemed to bother him when he was about to get laid. “You said no more sex!”
“Yeah,” tiny winged Farzan agreed. “You know this is against the rules. You’ve got a drawerful of toys, and instead you’re doing this?”
Shit, they were right. But Arya had spent his life being a slut. He hadn’t gone so long without getting laid in twenty years.
He deserved a little reward, didn’t he?
So he sucked harder, tasting the rain on Ben’s skin.
Ben arched away from him, but that only pressed his dick against Arya’s hip. It was hard, tenting out his slacks. Arya could still remember how it felt in his hand, the slip of smooth foreskin, the elegant head, the soft hairs. He had to see it again.
Ben’s head rolled back as Arya explored the sensitive skin of his throat. A sigh of pleasure rumbled in Ben’s chest. God, how could any man be so sexy?
Ben’s hands climbed up Arya’s sides, tickling his ribs before cupping Arya’s chest. Unlike Ben, who had dinner plate pecs, flat but firm and defined, Arya’s were softer. No matter how many push-ups he did, he never got the kind of definition Ben had.
Ben didn’t seem to care, though, as he rubbed his thumbs over Arya’s nipples.
He nearly flinched, some deep-seated middle school muscle memory telling him Ben was about to give him a purple nurple, but he stifled the instinct.
He knew, deep down, he was safe with Ben.
Ben stroked his nubs softly, tenderly, circling them until they hardened.
Arya felt the tickling pleasure deep in his stomach.
His nipples weren’t super sensitive or anything—he’d once been with a guy who could come hands-free from nipple play, and he’d never experienced anything like that himself—but they still felt good.
His dick flexed in his suit pants as Ben gave him a gentle, dragging pinch, before leaning in and taking the right one in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Arya whispered as hot wetness engulfed him.
A shot of wild sensation, not pleasure, not pain, but some secret third thing, shot from his nipple to his belly button to his ass, making him pucker up and arch away, but Ben stayed with him, flung a hand behind Arya’s back to hold him in place. “Shit.”
He was trapped. He reached for Ben’s head, threaded his fingers through Ben’s soft, silky hair, held on for dear life as the corner of Ben’s slutty little glasses dug into his chest.
“That feels… god, Ben…”
Ben hummed in delight and kept kissing, licking, gently biting, and the heat spread all through Arya’s chest. He hissed as Ben went a little too far, but Ben seemed to realize it and let off quickly.
“Sorry,” he muttered into Arya’s skin.
“Don’t be,” Arya huffed. He didn’t want Ben to stop.
He never wanted Ben to stop.
“Do the other?” He swallowed. “Please?”
He felt Ben’s smile against his skin. Ben dragged his thick lips across Arya’s chest until he found his next target and latched on. Arya sighed in delight as Ben laughed against his skin.
He was so distracted by the sensations in his chest, he hardly noticed Ben fighting with his belt and zipper, until his pants began to slide down his legs and a warm hand fought past his waistband to wrap around his leaking cock.
“Shit,” he said, hips flexing in surprise, pressing his cock against Ben’s pants. Did he get precum on them?
Who cared.
Arya returned the favor, opening Ben’s pants, slipping past his underwear to free his cock. It was so hard it had already skinned itself back, the head wet and hot and dew-dropped. Arya gave it a few strokes, and Ben purred against Arya’s nipple.
Arya smiled and angled his head to get a better view of his hand and Ben’s cock. It was so perfect, so hard, so juicy…
“Hey,” Arya said. “Can I try something?”
Ben froze.
“You can tell me if it hurts. Or feels weird. Or if you just don’t like it.”
Ben still didn’t say anything. His lips were still wrapped around Arya’s nipple.
He pulled off with a light pop that made Arya’s taint clench.
“I’m a side,” he blurted out.
That… was not what Arya was expecting.
“Oh?” He tried to keep his voice neutral.
He didn’t want to sound like he was upset or disappointed or anything.
He was surprised. Ben was just so fucking delicious, Arya had a hard time wrapping his head around Ben not being down for using his body in all the myriad ways it could be used.
But everyone had their preferences, even Ben, and Arya was glad to know more about them.
“That’s okay. I wasn’t going to do anything with your hole. Or mine.”
“You’re not upset?” Ben asked.
Arya wondered how many of Ben’s previous partners had been upset.
Fuck, is that why Justin had asked for an open relationship? Was he not happy not doing anal? What an asshole.
Yeah, Arya liked to fuck. A lot. He liked eating ass, too. And he even liked being fucked, every once in a while. The older he got, the less being a top mattered to him.
He liked sex. He liked exploring all the ways two bodies could give each other pleasure. He liked making his hookup, whoever they might be, feel good about the experience.
So Arya flexed his cock in Ben’s hand.
“Does it feel like I’m upset?”
Ben chuckled. “You’re such a horndog.”
“I’m a slut. So sue me.” He stroked Ben’s flagging cock, coaxing it back to hardness. “So. Can I try something?”
Ben bit his lip. He blinked at Arya from behind his slutty little glasses.
“Okay.”
Arya took over his own dick with his left hand, kept his right on Ben’s and brought them together tip to tip.
He’d never actually done this before, and there weren’t many sex acts Arya could honestly say that about, unless you started delving into kink.
And not, like, regular sex shop kink—he’d wandered down most of those aisles—but, like, full-on sex dungeon kink.
This was new, though. It wasn’t something he could do with most guys he’d been with. He’d seen videos and heard other people talk about it. Fuck, it sounded hot.
“What are you…” Ben began, but cut off as Arya stroked him again, more firmly this time, getting a feel for Ben’s foreskin, how much give it had.
Arya pressed his dickhead firmly against Ben’s, so the dewdrops of their precum mixed into a sloppy kiss, and drew Ben’s foreskin down, first covering Ben’s head and then going, going, until it covered Arya’s, too.
It was a strange sensation. On the one hand, it was just skin—soft, warm, slippery skin. On the other hand, it was a little tight, like it was perfectly molded to fit a dickhead (though he supposed it was) and so, so fucking smooth.
All the nerve endings in Arya’s crown sang as one.
“Shit,” Ben said.
Arya loosened up immediately. “Hurts?”
“No. Just… different.”
Thank fuck. Arya never wanted to hurt Ben. Sex wasn’t supposed to hurt, unless everyone had agreed to that beforehand. Arya had only dabbled in that once—just some paddles and spanking—and it wasn’t for him.
“Should I do it again?”
Ben nodded. Arya gave their dicks another, longer stroke. Ben’s foreskin slid over both of them, hot and sticky and ecstatic.
Ben gave a little shudder, but it was nothing to the pleasure singing in Arya’s veins. Holy shit, this was hot.
Ben rested his forehead against Arya’s shoulder. His hands reached down to cradle Arya’s balls. His silky hair brushed Arya’s jaw.
“Where’d you learn that?”
“Listen,” Arya muttered. “You’d be surprised what you can learn at Boy Scout camp.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a Boy Scout!” Ben laughed, pulling their dicks apart.
Arya shook his head, laughing too as he lined them back up. “Fine, fine. That’s what Nifty is for, though.”
“Hot,” Ben said, but it turned into a sigh as Arya found a steady rhythm. Things got more slippery as their precum built up, squelching around in Ben’s skin. Ben precummed a lot. Arya wondered if he always did, or if he was more turned on than usual, breaking rule number one.
The wind and rain had picked up again outside, lashing against Arya’s windows. The only sounds were the water splashing the glass; his and Ben’s breaths, drawing into sync; the slippery smacking of Ben’s foreskin over both their crowns.
“Fuck.” Heat flared in Arya’s taint. “I think I can come just from this.”
“Yeah?” Ben laughed, but it turned into more of a shudder. “Me too.”
“Fuck, you are so hot.”
Arya hitched his shoulder to get Ben to lift his head up.
When he did, Arya bit Ben’s bottom lip to draw him into another kiss.
He wanted to crawl inside Ben’s mouth and never leave.
He wanted to stay like this, kissing, touching forever, until the rain washed his entire apartment away.
The whole city. Until there was nothing left but the two of them, and the slick pleasure mounting beneath Arya’s hand.
“Oh shit,” Arya gasped as he came. His dick flexed hard, breaking their docking, and he let it flail and shoot his load over Ben’s dick, using the hot cum to lube Ben more, and then Ben was coming, too, warm spurts that coated Arya’s pubes and lower stomach, one stray shot tagging his hip, another disappearing past his legs and onto the area rug.
Ben grunted as he came, and Arya planted his lips over Ben’s to gulp down the sounds, to swallow Ben’s shuddering breath, to taste his heat and pleasure and relief.