“These need to come off,” he says, kissing along the muscles of my chest.
I raise my arse off the sofa and push my jeans and boxers down, kicking them off and onto the floor. He uses both hands to roll my open shirt over my shoulders and I shrug all the way out of it before locking my lips onto his. His right hand flies to my cock and he wraps it in his fist, squeezing and relaxing his fingers as he strokes it roughly up and down.
His kiss is urgent, desperate, and I can’t breathe through the intense pleasure ripping through my dick, so I pull away. I peck at his neck, digging my fingers into his broad back. I’m naked, but James is still wearing his vest. I want, need to feel his flesh against mine, so I pinch the hem of his top and start to pull.
He stops me, abandoning my aching cock and grabbing both of my hands. “Bend over the couch,” he says, his tone firm, demanding.
I don’t hesitate to do as he asks. I never do. I stand up and walk to the side of the sofa, using the arm to support my weight.
He leans over me from behind and kisses the back of my neck. “Don’t move,” he orders, so of course, I don’t.
I stare after him as he strides across the room, admiring the way his glorious arse flexes with each step before he disappears through one of the pine doors. He returns a few seconds later with a pump-dispensing bottle of lube and as my eyes dart to his impressive erection, I notice it’s already wrapped in a condom. He strokes it up and down a few times as he walks closer and I can’t wait to feel him stretch me. He positions himself at my back, and I swallow hard when I hear him pump the bottle of lube.
“Wider,” he says, wedging one hand between my legs.
My response is automatic. I adjust my feet and arch my back, completely exposing myself to him. Using his fingers, he spreads the cold lube along the crevice between my arse cheeks, making me gasp, and then he massages my hole before plunging two fingers straight inside.
“Holy fuck,” I moan, my hips thrusting against his hand of their own accord.
“So tight,” he whispers, his chest pressed to my back as he nuzzles my neck. “Has anyone been here since me?”
“N-no.” The word stutters as he fucks me roughly with his skilled fingers.
Pulling his fingers out of my body, he speaks right into my ear. “Good answer.”
I sag, breathless and already grieving the loss of him in my arse. I don’t miss him for long. Seconds later, he pushes into me, slowly at first, and a throaty sigh escapes his throat.
“Oh yeah,” he breathes, plunging all the way inside and hitting a spot that makes me cry out.
He doesn’t allow me much time to acclimatise to the intrusion, and his deep, powerful thrusts burn in the most delicious of ways. “Fuck, don’t stop,” I say. “Don’t ever fucking stop.”
He pants and grunts with every buck of his hips. “You like that, huh? You like me pounding your tight arse?”
“Y-yes. Oh, fuck, yes.”
“Take your dick, Theodore. Wank yourself off for me.”
The way my name sounds on his tongue resonates through my entire body. I can’t even begin to understand why but he has complete control over me and, I don’t only allow it, I fucking love it.
Removing one of my hands from the arm of the sofa, I reach for my dick, gripping it firmly at the base. I’ve barely touched it but I already feel the pressure of an impending orgasm swelling in the base of my spine. As my fist tugs at my weeping cock, James’ heavy balls slap against my flesh as he grinds into me. He uses so much force, my arm starts to tremble, struggling to support my weight.
“I’ve got you,” he says, gripping both of my hips and holding me in place.
Three small words and yet they’re enough to make my dick throb in my hand, my balls pulling up into my body as spurts of hot cum spill out over my fingers. “Ah shit,” I hiss. “Fuck, James….”
He continues to pound me, not giving me a second to catch my breath. “Christ, I fucking love you saying my name as you come.”
I massage my load into my cock and suck my bottom lip between my teeth. I know it’s about to end, evident by the harsh growls erupting from James’ throat, but I don’t want it to. I wish I could stay here, relishing the feeling of his cock assaulting my hole, forever.
“I’m gonna come, Theodore,” he spits. I didn’t think it was possible but he rocks into me even faster, deeper, harder. “Gonna come so fucking hard.”
And, fuck, he does. He slams into me one last time and collapses onto my back, his vest damp against my skin, and I lose my grip on the sofa and fall forward.
His breath is hot as it blankets the back of my neck and I crane my head to face him, reaching behind and stroking the side of his face with my fingers. “And you’re good at that,” I say, smiling.
He returns my smile, only his looks forced. He pulls out of me quickly, and then stalks off, to what I assume is the bathroom, without looking back.
I stand up, feeling somewhat deflated that he left without a single word, even though he’s only in the fucking bathroom. How pathetic is that?
“Shit,” I mutter to myself, noticing that a rogue droplet of spunk has dripped onto his sofa. Spitting onto my clean hand, I attempt to rub it off but only end up making it worse, so I hide the stain under a cushion instead and hope he doesn’t notice until after I’ve left.
“All yours if you want to get cleaned up,” James says as he re-enters the room. His voice is clipped and I can’t prevent my lips twisting into a frown.