1 #3
I slide one palm up to the centre of his back, pressing gently to keep him folded over the bed, and I look down…
fascinated, almost dazed… as I watch myself disappear into him inch by inch.
Thick, stretching him open, the sight obscene and perfect.
He’s so tight, gripping me, the pleasure is so intense it borders on pain.
A low moan tears out of my throat before I can stop it.
In response, Cole’s muffled voice comes from under the pillow, shaky and disbelieving: “Jesus Christ…”
I laugh softly, breathless, but I can’t bring myself to say anything back. Talking feels like it would make this stranger than it already is, so I stay silent, focused entirely on the slow, inexorable slide until I’m buried to the hilt inside my best friend.
I find a rhythm fast, pulling back slow at first to feel every inch of that impossible grip, then snapping my hips forward hard enough that the slap of skin on skin echoes in the quiet room.
Holy shit, this feels better than I thought, better than fucking Hannah’s ass ever did, tighter, hotter, like he’s pulling me in deeper with every thrust. I’m enjoying this way too much, the pleasure building sharp and relentless in my gut, dragging moans out of me that start low and ragged and get louder with every stroke.
I keep my hands spread on his ass, thumbs pulling him open so I can watch myself disappear into him over and over…
thick, stretching him wide. The sight is filthy and perfect, and I bite down hard on my lip to stop the flood of dirty words piling up in my throat.
Fuck, I could say so much right now… how good he looks taking me, how tight he feels, how I never knew it could be like this…
but I swallow it all and just drive in harder.
I shift his hips a fraction, tilting them up, and Cole actually moans… loud and raw, the sound punching out of him as his head jerks out from under the pillow.
He gasps, fingers twisting tight in the sheets. “Fuck!”
The noise makes me half-moan, half-laugh, breathless and wrecked. “Well fuck, Cole… does that feel good?”
He moans again, louder this time, hips pushing back without meaning to. “Shut the… fuck… up… oh god…”
I grin wide, sweat dripping down my temple. At least he’s getting something out of this too.
I keep slamming home, deep and punishing, the bed creaking under us. “Cole… you wanna come or what?”
He mutters something that sounds like “God, I hate myself,” then louder, “Fuck… yes… please, Remy… let me come.”
The plea goes straight to my cock, and I’m pounding so hard now I can barely breathe.
“You want me to touch your dick?” I ask, voice rough and low, I promised I wouldn’t, and even now I need to hear him say it.
Cole lifts his head just enough. “Yeah… just… fucking do it already.”
I reach around instantly, wrapping my fingers around his leaking cock… hard and thick, pulsing in my grip… and start stroking fast and brutal, matching the rhythm of my hips.
Cole’s whole body jolts. “Oh shit… oh fucking hell, Remy… fuck… I’m gonna come… oh my god, I’m gonna come so much!”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing at how completely undone he sounds, grinning like an idiot. “Fuck… come for me, Cole… I can’t… I can’t hold it much longer!”
His hole clamps down hard around me, a vise that steals my breath, and his body starts shuddering violently. He moans loud and broken as he comes, spilling hot over my fist and the sheets beneath him.
I let go of his cock and grip his hips again, pounding three more times, deep and desperate, before I slow and bury myself to the root. Pleasure rips through me like nothing I’ve ever felt, and the loudest groan tears raw from my throat as I come harder than I have in a long damn time.
“Shit… oh my god… fuck… fuck yes… oh god, that feels so much better.”
Cole slumps forward onto the bed, chest heaving, completely spent. “Well shit…” he mutters into the mattress.
I laugh, shaky and lightheaded, and carefully grip the base of my cock to guide myself out. The slow drag is almost too much, overstimulating, every nerve screaming, and I hiss through my teeth. Once I’m free I tug my boxers and jeans back up, covering myself, then stand on unsteady legs.
“You good, man?” I ask, voice still rough.
Cole doesn’t lift his head, just gives a weak “Uh-huh… yep…”
I laugh again and playfully kick his calf. “Come on, let’s grab lunch and then it’s afternoon practice.”
He lifts one hand in a lazy thumbs-up. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Yeah, sure.” I grin. “Don’t forget to grab your kit.”
“Mhmm,” he mumbles.
I leave him there, pulling the door mostly shut behind me to give him some privacy.
Goddamn, I feel lighter than I have all month, like I could run through a brick wall and come out smiling.
I zip up my jeans, fasten the button, and head into my own room to grab my sports duffel; always packed clean and ready.
I sling it over my shoulder, drop it by the main door, then kneel to yank my sneakers back on and tie the laces tight.