Wheels Up (Out of Uniform 4)

“Don’t want nice.” Dustin’s head fell back, leaning against Wes.

“Good.” Wes trailed his fingers through Dustin’s chest hair before tweaking both nipples at the same time. Hard. He knew Dustin could take it—hell, they’d had a lot of fun one night, playing around with binder clips on cam.

“Oh, God, yes. Please.” Dustin arched into the touch beautifully. “Like that.”

“Yeah, you like the hurt, don’t you?” Wes soothed the burn with gentle caresses before pinching again.

“Need it.” Dustin sagged against Wes, his head resting on Wes’s shoulder, face inches from his. It would be so damn easy to kiss him, but that would be dangerously close to losing control. Don’t do it. He forced himself to look away from Dustin’s lush mouth.

Wes’s hands skated lower, brushing Dustin’s away from his cock without actually touching it. “That’s mine now. You understand?”

“Yes.” Dustin’s moan was a thing of beauty.

“How you feeling about marks?” He nipped at Dustin’s shoulder, more teeth than kiss, but not enough to leave an impression. He knew the idea of marks got Dustin off online, but reality was something different, and he was trying to follow Dustin’s cues for what the boundaries were.

Dustin released a shuddery breath. “Want it. But nothing that a T-shirt won’t cover and no breaking the skin.”

“No worries. Blood’s not my kink.” Wes rubbed those marble-slab shoulders again before stroking down his arms, drawing both Dustin’s arms behind his back, trapping them between their bodies. “And I’m not going to tie you up, but I want you to pretend, okay?”

“Okay.” Dustin was surprisingly pliant in Wes’s embrace. “Red though? Right?”

“Of course.” Wes nipped at his neck. They’d used the code word some online like when he’d had Dustin play with the binder clips or some ice cubes. Nothing heavy, but he liked Dustin to know that he’d back off if this got unfun for him. He put his lips next to Dustin’s ear. “You’re going to come gangbusters if you keep being good for me. Think you can do that?”

“Yes.” Dustin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Good.” Wes tweaked his nipples again, harder now, little tugs and a gentle twist. “How much do you want me to touch your cock?”

“So much. Please.”

“You gonna come if I do?”

“No. Promise.” Dustin was all earnest submission. So damn beautiful to see.

“You’re so fucking good. Turn me on so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Wes bumped his hips forward, letting Dustin’s arms and back feel his straining cock.

“Oh fuck.” Dustin shuddered. Damn, it was heady, knowing that Dustin hadn’t ever done this with a guy before.

“If you’re very, very good, I might let you have a feel,” he offered, rubbing his face against Dustin’s.

“Yes.” Dustin surged backward, and only lightning-fast reflexes allowed Wes to keep them both upright. “I could...what we’ve talked about before.” His already flushed face went distinctly pinker.

Wes chuckled. “Gonna have to get more specific. We’ve talked about lots.”

Dustin’s voice dropped. “I don’t have to come. But I could...suck you.”

Now there was a pretty, pretty thought, but Wes was pretty sure that his “stay in control” mantra would be in serious jeopardy if Dustin got his mouth anywhere close to Wes’s dick. Instead he reached down, loosely grabbed one of Dustin’s hands and pressed it against his denim-covered erection. “Feel that? That’s all for you. Think you can handle that?”

Dustin nodded frantically. God, he was so fucking perfect. Releasing Dustin’s hand, he stroked his hands down his torso, pulling Dustin flush against him again.

“Hmm.” Wes forced himself to sound thoughtful, not desperate. “If you’re good. We’ll see. Gonna have to earn it.”

“How?” Dustin arched his body up into Wes’s questing hands. “Anything.”

“Oh, you’re going to be sorry you said that.” Wes laughed wickedly before pinching Dustin’s nipples again. Dustin stretched, exposing his neck and shoulders, and Wes couldn’t resist biting and sucking on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck yes.” Dustin’s eyes drifted shut and this time Wes let him.

“I’m going to touch your cock now,” Wes warned, keeping one hand torturing Dustin’s nipple while the other stroked down his stomach. “And you’re not going to come, not until I say.”

“I won’t.” Sounding like Wes had made him pound back shots, Dustin’s voice was all slurred now.

Dustin’s cock strained toward Wes’s hand. Like the rest of him, it was oversize—thick and meaty with a plump head that was leaking fluid before Wes ever touched him. Running a single finger down its length, Wes reveled in Dustin’s shudder.

“More,” Dustin begged.

Wes wasn’t inclined to give in, teasing him with little touches and flicks until Dustin was writhing in his embrace, trying to chase more contact. Finally, he fisted the thick cock, tighter than he would himself, and firmly stroked upward. “No coming,” he reminded Dustin.

“Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good,” Dustin moaned before glancing down at his chest. “Hurts too. Hurts so good.”

“Yeah, I know what you need.” Wes stroked him, nice and easy. He’d figured out Dustin by now—one of his kinks was telling Wes how badly it hurt while begging for more. And Dustin had a particular love of intense nipple play, so Wes exploited all that knowledge, twisting and tugging while jacking him off.