36. Because of you #3
“Yeah. I want to try. Is that okay?”
“Fuck yes.”
Hunter was a little concerned because although he’d watched this countless times in porn videos, he had never done it.
Not to a girl or anyone. But hell, he really wanted to.
Colby groaned before Hunter’s tongue even left his mouth, and when his tongue finally made contact with Colby’s tightly puckered ring, that groan turned guttural and wanton.
Emboldened by his reaction, Hunter lapped at him more confidently.
He didn’t taste weird or bad. He tasted like skin and sweat, and there was something so fucking erotic about the soft baby-fine hairs on his ass brushing Hunter’s cheek and the soft but rough feel of his hole against his tongue.
Hunter stiffened his tongue and leaned in even more, and entered Colby just a little bit.
“Oh fuck, babe, yes,” Colby rasped. His hips shifted, and Hunter saw as his hand slid under himself.
If he was upping his foreplay, so was Hunter.
He slipped a finger between Colby’s cheeks and ran it along his tongue before moving it to Colby’s hole.
Two seconds later, Hunter got to his feet with two fingers scissoring and pumping in and out of Colby, who was arching his back and swearing through horny pants. “Lube or condom?”
“Bathroom. Toiletry bag,” Colby replied.
Hunter hated the idea of leaving Colby, but he loved the idea of fucking him again. So he gently removed his fingers and darted to the massive bathroom and dumped the contents of Colby’s navy toiletry bag on the counter, returning with the lube and a condom.
Colby hadn’t moved, and his hand was still between his body and the couch, haphazardly jerking himself. “Don’t you come without me, Colbs.”
“I’d never let you down like that, bestie,” Colby whispered with a smile.
Hunter rushed to ready them both, and before long his sheathed, lubed cock was pressing into Colby’s slicked hole and the world disappeared.
All of it. The fame, the roles, the money, the demands, the rules…
it all evaporated, replaced by the hot, tight, blissful press of Colby’s body around Hunter’s.
Colby whimpered when Hunter’s hips bumped his ass, and he was fully engulfed. Hunter squeezed Colby’s hip under his hand. “You good, love?”
“Mmm… so good. It’s so fucking good.”
“Want me to make it even better?”
Colby nodded, and Hunter began to move.
Somewhere, a phone rang, but Hunter didn’t give a fuck. Colby didn’t seem to either. His whole body was crumpled over the couch now, and Hunter decided that wasn’t okay, because Colby’s dick was getting no attention other than maybe the soft velour of the couch fabric rubbing it. “Lift up.”
Colby shakily planted his hands on the seat cushions, but it wasn’t enough.
Hunter gently grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up and walked them back, his dick never leaving Colby.
Colby dropped his hands on the back of the couch, bracing himself.
Hunter held his hip to one side and his shoulder to the other and began to pump again. “Oh fuck. Jesus. Hunter…”
Colby’s head tipped forward, and his eyes rolled back.
Hunter bit his bottom lip and tried not to explode.
Not yet. His body was sweaty and warm, and every muscle screamed as he reached around and wrapped a hand around Colby’s hard, leaking cock.
The shift in his body position gave his thrusts a new angle.
A better one, judging by the way Colby gasped and shuddered.
“Yeah. Oh God fuck like that. Keep going. Harder.”
Hunter followed directions, and with a groan that rattled the air around them, Hunter’s hand got wet and sticky, and Colby’s body shimmied as he came.
And his asshole spasmed—fucking spasmed—and Hunter saw stars.
Hunter slammed his hips over and over, harder and in no sensible rhythm because his brain and body had lost any form of composure.
And then he came, so hard he could do nothing but rut his hips against Colby’s ass and collapse on his back.
Open mouth pressed into his shoulder as he moaned.
A phone rang somewhere, reminding Hunter it rang before.
And he still didn’t care. It’s either Brendan or Briar or another of his friends or work colleagues wanting to party.
Or it’s Lorne. In the back of his mind, he knew that Colby and he hugging in front of paps was going to be a problem.
But he didn’t care right now, sweaty and flushed and listening to his heartbeat race as Colby’s head rested on the back of the couch and his eyelashes fluttered.
He held the base of the condom and gently pulled himself from Colby’s body. Colby winced. “Sorry. Are you sore?”
“Yeah, and I love it. Don’t worry,” Colby murmured, and Hunter staggered to the bathroom, his legs weak.
He cleaned up and dampened a washcloth. Returning, he found Colby sprawled face-up on the bed.
He wiped his stomach, which had splatters of his release, and tossed the washcloth toward the corner of the room.
Colby grabbed his wrist and pulled him down on top of him.
They kissed leisurely like they didn’t have any reason not to.
Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.
Until the phone rang again. “I know that was the best orgasm of my life, but did it give me a stroke? Because I keep hearing my song.”
Hunter fought a blush as he reluctantly got off the bed and walked toward his discarded jacket in a heap on the carpet in the hall by the door. “It’s my ringtone.”
Colby’s whole face brightened. “You fucking love me.”
Hunter didn’t respond. His eyes were glued to the screen display of his phone. It wasn’t Lorne or his friends. It was his dad.