Good Boys Don't

Nate swallowed and briefly shut his eyes. “I… was supposed to see a band later, but I suppose I could change my plans,” he said, because what could be more important than having sex with Curtis again? Nothing. If only he could evade his church friends, he would stay here forever.

Curtis chuckled, teasing Nate’s ass without mercy, sending fireworks from each nerve ending to his cock. “I’m playing tonight, so don’t worry, I’ll let you out of my clutches before eight.”

Nate was too startled to speak at first. The conversation was so relaxing he felt barely any discomfort from the penetration, and he stretched his body, just enjoying the insistent pressure on his sphincter. He never imagined being comfortable enough with someone to just talk while so intimate. “You’re in a band? I thought you were only saying this to get me here.”

Curtis snorted. “I did want to get you here, but I am in a band. We’re the Desert Crows. But you wouldn’t know us, church boy,” he teased, pinching Nate’s ass once more.

Nate wanted this hard cock inside him. Immediately. And he let Curtis know by thrusting his hips back and letting his body swallow three of his fingers to the knuckle. “Oh, my God! I didn’t recognize you. That’s the band I wanted to see.” Chewing on his lip, he rolled his hips, seeking the pressure point inside him that sent electricity all over his body.

Curtis pulled out his fingers. “Not so innocent after all. You’ll be getting a backstage pass, sweetie.” He grinned as he slipped on a condom, but it was all too slow. Nate was dying to have Curtis inside him. A biker. In a band. With cool tattoos and swagger. Fucking him.

“I hope I may suck your cock again after you’re done playing,” Nate said, no longer thinking about propriety. Words came out of his mouth freely, and he loved the sense of liberation it gave him.

Curtis pressed the hot throbbing cock to Nate’s needy hole. “With promises like that, maybe I should take you on tour, huh? Every night I play, I’ll need to release the tension somewhere. I’d be fucking you backstage, on the tour bus, in bars and back alleys.”

The filthy talk was so hot Nate was completely relaxed when the cockhead pressed through the sphincter and stilled inside of him. He already needed more despite the slight discomfort. The idea of being fucked by Curtis aroused him to a point where he could barely stand it.

“Oh, God!” he said, both baffled by the unfamiliar sensation of something pushing in to dilate his ass, and melting at the pleasure it caused at the same time. He reached back and rested one hand on Curtis’s hip, wordlessly begging to be filled.

Oh, how he wanted that to happen. To be Curtis’s boyfriend and never again be thirsty for closeness. Maybe he’d even get to be fucked across Curtis’s bike. He would lean against the handles, legs spread wide over the seat, as Curtis sat behind him, pushing his cock in and out.

Curtis rocked his hips, each time inching his cock deeper inside Nate, until his hip bones pressed on Nate’s tender ass.

“So tight, Nate, I love it. You’re gonna milk me dry. Feels good to have a man on top of you?” Curtis pulled his hips back at a slow pace, but then thrust, shoving his thick dick right back into Nate’s shivering body.

It was difficult to speak while his chest swelled with joy and pride, so Nate nodded instead, looking back at his lover in search of those hauntingly dark eyes. The soft hair swept over Nate’s flesh with each of Curtis’s thrusts, and he found himself helplessly dependent on this man to give him pleasure. He could have made himself come by jerking off, but that wasn’t what he wanted this to be. He wanted to only finish once his partner was done shooting his load inside him.

“I want to do this all the time,” he moaned once he found his voice again. “On the tour bus. And in the back alley.”

Curtis’s eyes were on him, and when he pushed his cock in again, he stretched his body to kiss Nate. “Dirty boy. Your ass is mine now. All pink, tight, and well-spanked.”

The clash of their tongues was wet and just as filthy as Nate wanted it to be. He was breaking out of his shell to find that he was no ‘church boy’.

He gasped and gripped the sheets when Curtis pulled away. With one hand on Nate’s hip and the other on Nate’s cock, Curtis started fucking him in earnest, slapping his hips against the sensitive flesh of Nate’s buttocks each time. He was hitting a spot inside of him that made Nate spread his knees and give in to sweet submission.