18. Chapter 18 #2
Sam’s eyes shot to his and his cock spurted against his.
“I’ve always wanted to hear you say that.
” A wild heat, animalistic and desperate, tightened his expression as he took control, spinning Frankie around, not waiting any longer.
He heard the flick of the lube bottle, and he trembled, hands gripping the hood of the car.
The driver's side window was rolled down, giving Frankie room to maneuver and grab his cock while Sam pressed him into the car.
“Spread your legs…” Sam’s voice was low and almost unrecognizable.
He shivered and obeyed.
“Take your shirt off. I want you naked.”
Frankie yanked his shirt off, letting it drop to the ground, his body tense and so fucking ready.
He felt Sam’s chest press into his back, his hands stroking up and down the side of his torso, over his chest, his cock nudging into the cleft of his ass, the wet, lubed tip edging closer.
He did this for several agonizing seconds, hipping into him without his cock getting anywhere close to his entrance, while rubbing and kissing him all over.
“Sam,” he gritted out, having to stop touching his cock because he was getting too amped up.
Sam hummed and slipped his fingers between his cheeks. He tensed, feeling the wet heat of the moisture slickening around his tight hole.
“Relax,” Sam groaned, swirling and petting his asshole before slipping inside. Frankie jerked against the hard barrier of the car and wasn’t sure if he could relax at the intrusive feeling of Sam’s finger that kept moving, pushing slowly in.
“You okay?”
He shuddered and tried to force his muscles to release, and then…
“Fuck!”
Sam's finger brushed across his prostate, and he bucked backward, deepening the touch. Sam groaned and slid another finger inside, fucking him. It was too much. Too fucking good. He reached behind him, grabbed Sam’s neck, and dragged his face over his shoulder to kiss him, their eyes on each other.
“Fuck me, baby.”
Sam whimpered, and he released him, letting his fingers slide out and pushing the tip of his dick against him, inching inside, the tight rim widening and squeezing.
“Are you—?”
“Yes!”
Sam thrusted slowly forward, and Frankie’s jaw clenched at the foreign feeling of an actual dick inside him, yet it didn’t feel uncomfortable or hurt—it was just different.
“Fuck, Frank,” Sam sighed against his shoulder. Before he could prepare, his hips abruptly slammed forward, his cock hitting the sweet spot and sending Frankie over the edge, tumbling into the void of pure fucking sensation, all thoughts evaporated.
Sam began to ask him again if he was okay, his cock seated fully in his ass and unmoving. Frankie ignored the idiotic question and jerked forward and back, fucking himself on Sam’s cock.
His best friend let out a gasping breath and immediately bore down on him, hands on his hips, fingers ruthlessly clasped into the curve of his hips as he began to fuck him.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” Frankie yelled.
Sam didn’t stop, thank God. His tempo merely increased, his cock moving in and slamming home until his legs were trembling beneath him, his cock leaking all over the driver’s seat and his fist—and he wasn’t even pumping himself.
“Jesus, you feel so good,” Sam breathed, hand moving upward to clasp the back of his neck and hair and dragging him backward, forcing him to arch against him. “You want this dick?”
“Yes!” Frankie gasped, uncaring how desperate he sounded as he let his best friend fuck him against his car.
“You love taking care of me…” Sam drawled, spilling lava into his veins at the confident edge to his voice. “You love giving me your ass and letting me pump you full of my cum…”
Oh. Fuck.
Frankie jerked upward, and his hand instantly began to move, jerking himself off, chasing the brutal orgasm that was racing through his bloodstream.
“Or, maybe I paint your ass with my cum and fuck you again?”
He felt his brain chemistry spark and alter. The feel of Sam riding his ass, taking him, taking everything from him, being this connected to him.
“I’m gonna cum!” he shouted.
“Cum, baby. Paint your fuckin’ car with how much you like being fucked by me. My good… fuckin’…”
Oh shit. Oh fuck.
His balls tingled almost painfully and his head swam, ears ringing with the praise.
“…boy.”
“Fuck.”
He spasmed so hard he bucked on Sam’s dick, who grabbed onto his hips, drilling into him in a wild, furious tempo, slamming ruthlessly inside while he broke—shattered.
It was the hardest he had ever come in his life, somehow levitating into heaven, which smelled like motor oil, basic bar soap, and sweat.
Hot, shooting jets of cum coated the driver's seat of his car, and he didn’t fucking care. In fact, he loved it.
He began to soften, his body falling forward onto the car, and Sam, using his strength, kept him upright, his movements jerky as he got close.
“This ass is mine,” he heard Sam seethe between clenched teeth. “You fuckin’ take it so goddamned well.”
The praise made him simper and melt against him, and that was the final straw. Sam reared back one last time and climaxed all over his ass. He felt the hot spray of it and shivered, biting his lower lip hungrily.
And Sam, his Superman, wasn’t done. Panting and shaking, Sam gripped his hip, dragging his cock over the smeared cum on his asscheeks, then pushing it back between them and into his hole.
“Fuuuuck….”
They both let out a torrid groan at the glorious, overly sensitive feeling.
Sam slid his cum slicked tip back and forth before finally stopping, cursing and kissing his back, up his shoulder, and along his neck. “I will never get enough of you.”
His belly swooped and he turned, kissing him. Sam’s mouth opened for him, letting his tongue taste and devour him lazily.
“Thank you,” Sam whispered.
“For what?”
He swallowed, a vulnerability suddenly there, and he reached out, soothing the tension around his lips with his thumb.
“I—I dunno,” he said, flushing.
Frankie smiled, kissing his blushed cheek. “Let’s shower, get some food in you, and maybe I’ll let you open your birthday gift a day early.”
“I thought I already had my birthday gift.” Sam’s hand touched his limp, deflated dick, thumbing the wet tip.
He drew his smart-mouth bottom lip between his teeth and sucked. “I was only the first half.”
Sam hummed, “There better not be a cake in your fridge.”
He had known for years that Sam wasn’t a fan of his birthday and shook his head reassuringly. “Just a six pack, wine, food, everything we need to be holed up for the weekend.”
Sam bent down, retrieved his pants, and handed Frankie his shirt.
“I did tell the boys you were gonna be here, and they may have mentioned stopping by the bar tomorrow night to hang out for a bit,” he said, pulling on his jeans, loving the dirty feel of Sam’s cum still on his ass and not cleaning it up.
Sam noticed this, too, and smirked before saying, “You sure you wanna hang out at the bar tomorrow? We don’t have to go there. They could come here…?”
“Where we’ve been fuckin’ each other all day and night? No, they don’t get to ruin my sex cave with you.”
Sam laughed. It was warm and bright. Just like him.
They showered together, letting the hot water work into their muscles as they soaped and lathered one another.
Before either of them realized what was happening, they were at it again, cumming messily all over each other, panting and groaning, uncaring of the sloppy noises their bodies made or how loud they were upon climax.
They tumbled into Frankie’s bed and took a nap, Sam wrapped around him, his long arms and solid body pressed against his back.
He never thought he’d love being the little spoon.
Hell, he never thought he’d love getting railed against his car, but he did.
And he was grinning like a fuckin’ idiot before nodding off, inhaling Sam's scent, familiar and… home.