by Jayce Ellis
The elevator dinged, and I followed André off and down the hall. His apartment was in the middle of the hallway, 934, a mat outside the door. He scrubbed his shoes on it before walking in, and I did the same. And as soon as he turned the locks, I grabbed his wrists, pulled him into me, and took his lips.
He stiffened, moaned, then his body relaxed against mine and he grabbed my ass and squeezed. Yeah, that’s what I wanted, him soft, pliant, and willing. Shit was about to get real next week, and I needed to feel something good. André was about as good as it got, and better than I’d imagined.
We kissed, our tongues dueling while he rocked against me, our dicks rubbing against each other through the fabric of our slacks. I broke off, panting, and ran a thumb over his lower lip. “Bedroom?”
He stared at me and blinked, his eyes dark and hazy just the way I liked it, before he grabbed me and led me down the short hallway to the room. I hadn’t even noticed him do it, but he was half undressed by the time he reached the bed, his shirt thrown on the floor, his belt hanging open. He’d managed to toe one shoe off somewhere, and was working on the other. Socks came next, then he shucked his pants and underwear down, leaving him deliciously naked on the mattress.
“You can’t do nearly all those things you said to me with those clothes on,” he said.
I laughed and it made André smile, an absolutely wicked thing that would be reserved for my late-night fantasies from here on out.
“Actually,” I said, taking a step back and pulling my shirt over my own head, “I can. I promise you I can do everything I said while you’re naked and I’m fully clothed.”
A full-body shudder ripped through him. Oh, someone liked that idea.
“You want me to do that, Dre? Come home from work in a suit and tie, strip you and fuck you just like that, with my dick hanging out my pants?” I took a considering glance at him before returning to his eyes. “Maybe I’ll put you in a jockstrap? I could get down with that.”
“Oh God,” he muttered, and I watched as a bead of precome coated his tip. “Get up here.”
Yeah, no. Because I’d wanted this cat before and he’d turned me down, and I wasn’t rushing this. I yanked him to the edge of the bed and knelt to the side. Grabbing an ankle and hooking it by my neck, I kissed the inside of the calf and worked my way up his leg, feeling his muscles clench and release under my touch. That little hole of his did too, and I ghosted my free hand along his balls and taint.
André grabbed the base of his dick, circling it like a cock ring. Dear God, he was hot like this, his head thrown back, the veins in his neck straining. That tight jaw I could tell was him trying not to bust. Fucking hell, how’d I gotten so lucky tonight?
I must’ve spoken because André opened his eyes and stared at me. And even in the dark, the only light coming from whatever filtered through his curtains, I could see he was fighting something. I didn’t know what it was, but when I pressed a finger firmly against his hole, as though I was going to press it in, his body locked up tight, his thighs clenching together and pushing me away.
Couldn’t have that. I dropped to the floor and pulled him even closer, so his ass hung off the mattress. Above me, he groaned, the sound low and needy. My dick pulsed, desperate to get inside. But he wasn’t lying when he said to go slow. The way he’d clamped around my finger? For a second I wondered if he’d ever done this, and the thought made me more eager, and more determined to take my time.
I pushed at his legs, forcing him all the way open to me. If he was embarrassed, it was a good thing he couldn’t see me from here. I took a firm swipe against him and his hand shot down to my head. He gripped my scalp and shifted closer, enough that I wondered if his feet were still on the bed, and pressed his ass against my tongue. So I rimmed him, poking and prodding and circling him, dipping in and out his hole while his thighs wavered, using my hands to hold him steady when I knew he wanted to fuck himself on me.
When he was close, the strain of his thighs too much, I pulled back and stood, helping him to lie firmly on the bed.
I stripped my clothes off unceremoniously, then climbed up the mattress. I planned to kiss him, but André pulled my hips closer until my dick was eye level. He didn’t say a word, just running his hands up and down my legs, waiting for my acquiescence. Which was a bad idea, because playing with him had me close already. Still, the look in his eyes? No way I could say no. I gripped the headboard and tapped my dick against his mouth, coating it with precome before pushing inside.
“Holy fuck,” I muttered as he sucked me straight down. Then I slapped one hand against the wall. “Fucking hell, your mouth feels good.”
André’s laughter rumbled through me, like he was proud of bringing me to the edge this quickly. I warred with my twin needs to be in control and lose myself.
“Goddamn,” I grunted out, “not yet. Gonna come too quick.”
I pulled out, planning to scoot down the bed and return the favor, but he grabbed my hips and tilted me forward, swiping his tongue against my hole, and I was lost. I loved rimming, clearly. Nothing felt better, but it was rarely reciprocated, and he was too damn good at it. I came with a shout, over my hand and stomach. On André’s forehead and into his hair. That...was not what I planned, and I couldn’t even feel bad, because goddamn André looked good with my come on him.
“Motherfucker,” I whispered when I came down from my high. André had basically lifted me off him and laid me on the bed next to him, then grabbed some napkins and wiped off his forehead and my hand and abs. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I haven’t come that fast in a minute. Give me a few and I’ll be ready to go again.”
He laughed. “Youngins.” He was leaning to one side, and turned my head to his for a deep, searching kiss. “You vers?”
I paused then, his words about not being the right guy coming back to me in a flash. Part of me was tempted to get my clothes and bounce, but his hand on my thigh stopped me. I looked down.
“Or,” he said, running a hand up my leg, “I can suck you ’til you’re hard again, and we can get back down to business.”
I laughed, the tension that had landed on my shoulders disappearing as fast as it’d showed. And I was vers, but typically not for one-nighters. That I’d even considered it at the bar raised a ton of red flags. Bottoming was something I reserved for relationships, or at least more than casual fucks. But for some reason, with this guy, right now? My dick was a little too eager to make an exception to that rule, so I shrugged and gave him my best grin.
“For the first time? Usually not. For you? Yeah, I think I can get down with that.”
André
I needed to come. I needed to see him come. to lose himself because of me. Again. Fuck! The way Marc responded to me? Unreal, and I couldn’t get enough.
But I had to slow this down. I’d thought giving him head would do it, but I was still at the one-touch-and-I’ll-bust stage. If that happened, getting it up twice wasn’t a guarantee anymore, so I needed to make this count. And damn if the body next to me wasn’t worth it.
Marc was long and lean, the slight ripples down his abs proof of someone who worked out, but was naturally blessed as well. He had just a sprinkling of chest hair, then a happy trail that led from his lower stomach to his dick. Which was already starting to perk up again, and I swiped across his slit to get a taste I’d been denied a few minutes before.
“Ugh, shit.” Marc grunted. “Fuck me, Dre, need to feel it.” He punched his hips up, smearing more come against my cheek, and I almost lost it. My dick leaked and I ran my finger through, painting it against his lips.
He engulfed that finger with strong, sure sucks, and I knew if I got my dick anywhere near his mouth I’d be done for. I straddled him and kissed him instead, pushing my tongue inside and loving the way he clamped his arms around me. He rocked into me, and I felt the tip of his dick bump my ass. It’d be so, so easy to go back to our init
ial plan, to sit on it and ride him until we both lost ourselves.
Marc wrenched his face away from me long enough to say, “Goddamnit, get in here. I can’t wait anymore.”
Neither could I, and my last hesitation about flipping the script vanished. I kissed him again, hard, then yanked open the top drawer of my nightstand for lube and condoms. Climbing off him, I stood at the end of the bed and watched him stroke one hand over the other, his hips rising and falling as he brought himself to the brink of climax.
“Stop,” I said, my voice barely audible over the creaks in the mattress. Marc’s hands fell to the side immediately, but he blinked a few times before he could fully focus on me. When he did, his tongue darted out across his lower lip and he spread his legs wide, holding one up with a hand and palming his balls with the other.
I stared. I couldn’t help it. He was stunning, open, eager. Everything I wanted and wished I could be.
I must’ve been quiet for too long, because he dropped his leg and shifted. “Do you want me to turn over? I can—”
“No!” I yelled, cutting him off and placing a hand on his knee. “I want you like this. Just want to look at you first.”
His dick jumped at my words. He settled back into the sheets and planted his feet on the bed, shifting lower until his hole was open for me the same way I’d been open for him. And Lord, what a sight.
I strapped up and drizzled lube on my dick, then pushed more into him with my fingers. He bore down on them, and God, he was so hot and tight and I couldn’t get into him fast enough.
I climbed the bed and hooked one of his legs around my waist as I pressed into him, slowly, steadily, not stopping until I was fully seated. I paused then, waiting for Marc to relax under me. With our height differences, I was right at his nipple, and I pulled it into my mouth. He held me there, trying his best to gain some momentum while I tortured his bud. Lord knows the last time I’d been with someone so responsive, so open about what he liked.
When he let go of my head, it was to grip the headboard with both hands and utter a single word. “Please.”
I fucked into him like my life depended on it, like it was my last conjugal visit before execution, like I had no goddamned sense. I pulled out, flipped him over, gripped his shoulders and held him down while I took him. And he gave it all back, fucking my dick like he craved it almost as much as I did.
“Make me come.” The words were so deep, so low, that they sounded like they came from someone else. I tried to circle Marc’s dick and found him jacking himself. I covered his hand with mine and squeezed, and Marc shot like a rocket, his ass clenching me almost to the point of pain, trying to draw my release from me.
Marc collapsed beneath me and I pulled out, still hard. The need to come, to take him as many ways as possible, flooded my veins. I maneuvered him until his head hung off the side of the bed and yanked the condom off.
“Fuck yeah. Fuck my face.” Marc craned his neck and licked my slit, and I plunged into his mouth.
He gripped my thighs and pressed me closer, then used his fingers to pry my ass cheeks apart. I grunted, knowing what was about to happen, but still lost all sense of myself when that thick finger pushed in to the knuckle. I convulsed, my body spasming around it, and busted so hard my vision whited out when Marc crooked his finger. I couldn’t take the invasion. I never wanted him to stop.
All of which added up to me being a goddamn mess. I shot in his mouth, down his chin and neck, until he looked as utterly debauched as I’m sure I had minutes before. I pulled away, my ass squeezing in an effort to keep his finger in me. Wishing it was more. Once I got my bearings about me, I helped maneuver Marc onto the bed and massaged his neck.
“You okay?” I asked after a few minutes.
He blinked open eyes heavy with sleep and nodded. Then smiled. It was better than I’d imagined, and knowing I was the cause of it made me want to beat my fucking chest like an animal.
“That was just what I needed,” he murmured, his voice the tiniest bit scratchy. And damn if my dick didn’t twitch at the sound. He ran his hand over his torso, my eyes taking in every movement, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Bathroom?”
It took me a moment, but I eventually pointed down the hall. Marc stood and smacked my ass on the way out the room. I grabbed some sweatpants and pulled them on, then started gathering clothes. Marc found me bent over like that and crowded me into the bed. The lack of control almost made me buck, but as his mouth pressed kisses into my neck, I relaxed.
“Goddamn shame I didn’t meet you two months ago. You would’ve made this summer worthwhile.” His hands ran up and down my bare chest, his palms ghosting across my nipples and down my stomach.
“You not from around here?” I asked when I could finally focus.
“Nah. Connecticut. Interning for the summer.”
That word was all it took to remind me why I’d gone to Park in the first place. And to remind me that I still had a shit ton of work to do before Monday, so inviting Marc to stay the weekend, sans clothes, wasn’t really an option.
“Sounds like I said the wrong thing.” Marc stepped back from me, hands on his hips, still buck-assed naked.
I shook my head. “You made me think about how much work I have to get done.”
He snorted, then groaned and tilted his head toward the ceiling. “Shit, me too. I said I needed to forget for a little while.” He dropped his head and looked at me. “You did maybe too good a job helping me with that.”
I crossed the room to him and pulled him into another kiss. Sweet, soft, almost tender. Everything I never expected. I handed him his clothes and watched him dress, then walked him to the front door. For a split second, I thought about asking him for his number, because I would be down for a repeat of that. Which might be the understatement of the year. But no. This was one night, something to hold on to, and I didn’t want real life to intrude. One more kiss, a last lingering look, and he was gone.
Chapter Four
Marcus
I’d fallen asleep promptly when I got home, my ass pleasantly sore, my dick almost too tender to touch. I had no clue if Jake was back or not, and as long as he showed up by Sunday evening for dinner, our agreed-on check-in, I wasn’t going to worry.
I turned over Saturday morning and stretched my arms above my head. The muscles strained, a reminder of how I’d gripped the headboard last night. Memories assaulted me and my dick, already hard, throbbed with the need to come.
But I couldn’t. Jake had given me his parents’ room instead of moving into it himself and letting me stay in his for the summer. Their bed was luxurious, one of those adjustable air springs that contoured and even had a heated and cooling mattress pad on top. It was a thing of beauty. And I was tempted to lie here all day, but no way in hell was I masturbating in it.
The doorbell rang. Which was odd in and of itself, but especially on the weekend. I waited, hoping either Jake was home and would answer, or whoever it was would go away. No such luck.
It rang again, followed by my phone. I reached over and grabbed it, and couldn’t stop the low whine in my throat even as I answered. “Hey, Dad, what’s going on?”
“Morning, son. Come down here and let me and your mother in before she wakes up the neighborhood.”
He had to be kidding me. My parents were not downstairs, outside Jake’s house, first thing on a Saturday morning. I refused to believe it, until my father spoke again. “Marcus? Are you home? Is that the reason no one is answering the door?”
I recognized Mom’s horrified gasp in the background, meaning this wasn’t the nightmarish hallucination I had hoped.
“No, Dad, I’m here. Be right down.”
I clicked off and climbed out the bed. I didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom like I needed, because Mom wasn’t going to stand out there any longer. I threw a T-shirt on over my pajama bott
oms and trotted down the stairs to open the door.
“You’re barefoot. You know what I’ve told you about walking around with no shoes on,” Mom said as she walked in, Dad behind her.
“I was trying to get the door open for you.”
She waggled her fingers at me. “We been standing out there for almost ten minutes. The ten seconds it would’ve taken you to put your slippers on so you don’t catch your death wasn’t going to kill nobody. Except maybe you.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Dad’s heavy hand on my shoulder shifted my attention, as did the twinkling light in his eyes. He thought this shit was hilarious. “Good to see you, son.”
“Thanks. You too,” I said, closing the door behind them. “What are you guys doing here?”
Mom made herself comfortable on the couch and turned on the TV. Between me and Jake, the TV probably stayed on HGTV, Food Network, and ESPN ninety percent of the time. So naturally Mom flipped it to one of the shopping networks and settled in. “Oh, we came down to see some of my girls. We were thinking about what we want to do for next year’s trip.”
Mom and a group of her sorors did an international vacation every other year. I knew they were planned well in advance; I’m not sure I knew they were planned years in advance. And I’m damn sure I didn’t know planning for the trip required a trip in itself.
“How long you guys been here?” I asked.
“Since Wednesday,” Mom said without turning from the TV.
“And y’all didn’t call me?”
“Marcus, you’re a grown man with your own life. I know you would’ve tried to find some way to see us, but you’ve got plenty of things to do. We didn’t want to be a bother.”
I appreciated the sentiment, even if I didn’t buy it. Mom, love her to death, never worried about interrupting me. Dad might, but Mom was quick to ignore him. If I’d seen them earlier, I wouldn’t have known about this internship mess, and wouldn’t be praying they’d talk about anything else. As it was, no way I’d be able to hide it, and the idea was already making my muscles tense. Which reminded me how sore I was from last night. I sighed.
