by R J Scott
Ten
Tennant
“You really don’t have to knock,” Mads informed me after opening the door.
I threw myself at him, plastering my lips to his, my bag hitting the floor with a dull whump as we staggered into the nearest wall. The door creaked shut.
Mads hefted me up tighter to him. “That was quite the greeting.”
“I told them,” I gasped, the kiss robbing me of breath.
He looked at me questioningly, but kept me pressed to him, his hands resting on my hips.
“My parents. I told them I was gay and they were totally okay with it!”
“Wow.” His mouth hung open a bit. “That’s… wow. Did you tell them about us?”
“No. Well, not really. I said there was someone, but I didn’t mention names.” His exhalation was huge. “I wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that. You mean too much to me.”
Mads buried his face in my neck, tasted the skin under my ear, then pulled back so that he could cup my face. He spent a whole minute just looking at me. My hands moved up and down his arms.
“I’d really like to make love to you”
“I’d really like to be inside you.”
My first thought was to pump the air and hoot, “Finally!” I bit that reaction back.
“I would love that so much.”
Mads picked up my bag, then offered me his hand. For some reason, after all the time spent pitching myself around because of lack of sex, now that he was waiting for me to take his hand to actually go have sex, I was feeling stupid and shy.
He arched a brow. “If you’re not ready, Ten, that’s fine.”
“No, I’m ready.” I placed my hand in his. My heart started dancing irregularly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been ready for weeks. Months.”
“There’s a difference between being physically ready and mentally ready.” We stood in his tidy living room—which had all kinds of furnishings—holding hands while he tried to feel me out. “Are you sure you’re mentally ready?”
“I’m sure.” I stepped up to him and kissed him with all I had, our clasped hands pinned between his chest and mine. When we broke apart, I found his gaze resting on me. “I’m so sure. I want you inside me.”
“Dear God, Tennant.”
He sighed, took a light kiss, then led me to his bedroom. It was a nice room. Filled with a dresser and a bed. I’d been in it at least two dozen times, but now that we were getting down to more than humping each other or touching each other’s dicks through our underwear, the room seemed bigger, the bed enormous. Hell, my lover suddenly seemed to have grown a foot or two.
“You look like you’re ready to run,” he said.
“I’m feeling stupid and small.”
He released my hand, then placed my overnight bag beside the light oak dresser.
“Okay, so I’ve sucked lots of dick, right?” My nerves were jangling. Mads nodded. “So, I’m good with that. But the other stuff…”
“Tennant, there’s no rule that says we have to have anal sex.”
“No, see, I want to, but the last time it kind of went badly. It hurt, and he was a fumbling moron like I was. See, I want this to be perfect for you.”
“And it will be. Why don’t we just see where our passion takes us?” He pulled off his Railers T-shirt and let it drop to the floor, then he unzipped the old jeans he’d been wearing. They slipped down to his ankles, along with his boxers. Dear God, there was so much Mads. His body was hard and lean, bigger than mine in just about every way. He let me look at him for as long as I needed.
I rushed to peel off my clothes, then felt a little inadequate in comparison to him. His cock was so rugged and male. Thick and long and uncut, hard, and weepy with fat veins. And then there was mine, which up to that point I’d thought was pretty damn impressive.
“By God, you are so beautiful,” he said, which made me flush. “Look at that. I didn’t think Tennant Rowe knew how to blush. It looks good on you.”
My feelings were all over the place. I suddenly felt like a kid. Like some stupid kid who was finally where he wanted to be and was just realizing that he was in over his head.
“Can you come touch me, please?” I asked, hoping that wasn’t too weak a request.
“I’d love to.” He padded over to me, his gaze staying with mine. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, Tennant?”
“You,” I managed to croak, my fingertips crying out to reach out and touch him. “I want you to touch me everywhere. Kiss me everywhere. Then I want you inside me.”
“Are you sure?”
Mads took that last step—the one that pressed his nude body to mine. His prick nestled against mine. I whimpered a bit. He slid a hand around me, pulled me flush to him, and lowered his head to kiss my neck. My head fell back, my eyes slid shut, and my body became his to do with as he wanted.
“Are you sure, Tennant?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”
He put a few soft bites along my throat, then eased me back onto the bed, his weight settling on top of me. He felt perfect. Strong and long, firm with sharp planes and rolling muscles under my fingers. I wrapped around him like one of those flowery, clingy vines Mom planted by the lamp post in the back yard. Mads kissed me. I blossomed under his mouth and hands. All this time I’d thought I was so experienced and such a top-notch lover, but Mads showed me that making love to someone was vastly different from simply fucking someone.
He was so gentle, so patient, easing me into lying back in his arms as he stroked me and petted me, kissed my chest and toyed with my ass.
“If you want me to stop, just say so,” he repeated while working me into a lather. By the time he was pressing a finger into me, I was beyond speech. Animalistic sounds and grunts were all that came out of me. He worked that slippery finger in while dropping kisses along my cheek and eye. “How are you?”
“Great. Ah, man, that is amazing.” I groaned, then shivered, my fingers twisted in the bedding.
“Good, good.” He stole a kiss, then pulled that finger out. I arched up, eager for more. “This is going to be even better.” He pushed two fingers in, then began rotating them, pressing them deep, scissoring them, and bumping my prostate. “Shhh, shhh,” he whispered as I thrashed around wildly, my balls tightening up. The fingering stalled as I slithered back from the edge.
“I’m so close, Mads… so close. I want to come with you inside me…”
“Let’s take our time.”
“Seriously, I’m hearing that now?”
He chuckled, kissed me lightly, then licked and nibbled his way down to my cock. Arm over my stomach, he sucked me deeply into his mouth while cupping my balls. I bucked up, eager to get all of myself down his throat. He pressed my ass back onto the bed, then started sucking hard and fast. His tongue swirled over the tip, then he took me deep. There was no holding back. No way could I stop the orgasm that ran me over. Mads let the head of my cock rest on his tongue, his fingers fisted at the base. I pounded on the mattress. He lapped up every droplet that rested on his lips and fingers.
“You’re tastier than I imagined,” he growled while giving my cock a final stroke.
I was still quaking when he shifted around, rolling away from me. I touched him all over. His back, his arms, his hip, his stomach. Sitting up, I wiggled closer to his back, rubbing my hands over his shoulders while kissing the nape of his thick neck. His skin broke into gooseflesh, which made me smile. When he moved to face me, I skittered back onto the bed, my gaze dropping to his latex-covered cock. When I reached for him, he didn’t stop me. His prick was smooth and hard in my hand. I fell onto my back, guiding him up and over me, squeezing my fingers tightly around him.
Mads settled between my legs, easing my thighs up until they rested on my chest. All the while his eyes glowed like he’d been given a rare prize or something.
“Are you sure about this?” His grip on my knees was firm but not painful.
I nodded as I worked to calm my breat
hing a little. “Mads, I swear I’m fine. If you pull back now, I’ll go freaking insane. Please, I want you in me. Please.”
He leaned down to get a kiss, the tip of him nudging at my opening. “Relax, Ten,” he purred before pushing his cock in a bit.
The burn was familiar. I winced.
He paused. “You okay? Any time this gets to be too much, say so.”
“More,” I huffed, and dug at his biceps.
He gave me more and even more, inch by inch, easing me into the possession, giving my body time to stretch and adjust.
“I can’t breathe,” I panted when he leaned in to my legs. “Fuck, it’s…”
“Yes, it really is.” He flicked his hips quickly. I bowed up off the bed. “You good?”
“Oh, fuck yes,” I replied, my fingers slipping along the surface of his sweaty skin. “Give me more, Mads.”
We found a rhythm. It was tentative at first, easy. Then it increased, picking up speed. I held on to his arms, my gaze pinned to Mads as he filled me then withdrew, each stroke moving me across the bed an inch or so. I asked him for more again. He gave me more speed, more depth, more gyrating hip action. My head slid off the side of the mattress. He yanked me back onto the bed without losing his pace. My legs were cramping. The bed seconded our tempo, hitting the wall with a rapid bang-bang-bang.
“Ten, shit, Ten,” he growled.
I wrapped my fingers around his forearms as he came. He dug into the mattress with his knees, pushing himself up and deeper on the come stroke. His muscles constricted, his jaw locked, and his cock kicked deep inside me. He was the most the stunning man I’d ever seen, and that was all I could think as I was coming.
He was beautiful. And he was mine.
Clawing like a cat, I writhed under him, his depth painful and pleasurable at the same time.
“Sorry, shit… sorry, Ten,” he huffed, and eased out of me. My leg muscles tightened up. I rolled to my side to work the cramps out of my thighs. “I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over my side then up my back.
“No, it’s good, it’s just thigh cramps.” I groaned.
He lay down behind me, pulled me close to him, and licked the tattoo on the back of my neck. His hands traveled down my side to my hip and then to my thigh. His fingers worked the oxygen-starved muscles. I moaned and sighed as the cramps eased up.
“You okay now?” His words were hot little puffs on my inkwork. I turned to pudding, melting back into him as he massaged my thigh. “Are you sure it was just cramps?”
“Yeah, it was just cramps. You were super gentle.”
I rolled my head to the left and got a sloppy kiss. His hand came up to rest on my stomach as his tongue danced over mine. We lay there for a long time, kissing, and touching. I rolled over to face him.
“That was worth the wait.”
“Glad to hear it. I have to take care of this condom.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then slipped from the knotted bedding. I thought about getting up to get a drink, but my legs ached and my ass was tender. No way was I letting him see me gimping around, so I pulled the coverlet up and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of me, Mads, and sex on the air.
“Hey, here.”
I swam through the fog of post-sex sleep. Mads was sitting beside me on the bed with a bottle of spring water and wearing a smug smile.
“Drink all of it.”
I sat up. The cover slithered down my chest and puddled on my lap.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need anything else?” He was so attentive. It was so cute. I shook my head while I sucked down twenty ounces. “I have all kinds of food.”
I tossed the empty bottle onto the floor and reached for him, my hand coming to rest on his shoulder. I pulled his mouth to mine.
“I want more of you,” I told him, gave him a shove that sent him tumbling back to the mattress, then eyed his limp cock hungrily. “Yeah, more of you will do just fine.”
Lucky me, he was willing to give me all the Mads I could handle.
The inside of Mads’ fridge looked like my parents’. It was packed full of food. Good food. Milk, eggs, fruit, and fresh vegetables. Yogurt and juice bottles. Sports drinks and bottled water with added vitamins and minerals. So the total opposite of my fridge, which had half a pizza still in the box, a jug with an inch of sour milk in the bottom, and a bottle of ketchup. Oh yeah, and a six-pack of Miller Lite that now held only one unopened bottle. I really needed to do some shopping.
My stomach snarled, reminding me of the fact that I had expended some major energy last night. I grabbed the bottle of orange juice and a container of strawberries, then hip-checked the door closed. Knowing I had also lost some fluid in Mads’ bed, I opened the carton and took a long drink. It was unsweetened and pulpy, the fleshy bits of orange sticking to my teeth. I needed a toothbrush and shower in the worst way. A grumble from my gut reminded me that food was number one on the priority list.
I rummaged around in his cupboards, sipping OJ all the while, until I found a bowl. The silence of his place started to wear on my nerves, so I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, opened Spotify, and found a playlist that appealed. Now that I had some Glass Animals playing, I could think better. Growing up in a house with three boys meant noise. Lots of noise and lots of junk scattered around. Places like this, all soundproofed and tidy, set me on edge.
The tiles were cool under my bare feet as I padded to the sink and washed the fat, red berries by holding the container under the flow of water. Mom always said to wash your fruit, but a rinse should suffice. I was too hungry to dick around with anything else. I plucked a huge strawberry out and bit it off by the leafy stem. The berry was ripe, filled with sweet red juice that coated my tongue.
“Oh man,” I sighed, then went for another.
I’d polished off about a third of the container when his arms curled around my middle, startling me so badly I fumbled the berry that was close to my mouth. Mads ran his tongue over my tattoo, sending a spear of red-hot lust to my groin. His hands flattened over my bare stomach. I smiled as he rubbed a small circle over my abdomen.
“What is this shit playing on your phone?”
“Seriously? You don’t know Glass Animals?”
I looked back to find his blue eyes on me. I held up a berry for him to eat over my shoulder. His teeth were white and even as he gently bit the fruit. Juice ran over my fingers, dripping to the bare skin of my shoulder. I dropped the stem. It rolled down my chest. He ran the tip of his tongue over my fingertips, and then sucked my index finger into his mouth. My cock began to plump up. Between his sucking on my finger and his hands roaming down into the waistband of my jeans, I was pretty much a goner.
“And you have a Pokémon tattoo on the back of your neck.”
“That’s your comeback for everything. It’s lame and old, like you.” I leaned back into him, his erection pressing against my ass. “Which tastes better? My fingers or my neck?”
“Are you being coy, Tennant?”
I shrugged, since I wasn’t sure what being coy really meant.
“I haven’t found a part of you that tastes bad yet.”
That was when I turned around in his arms, shoved my fingers into his short blond hair, and kissed him as deeply as I could. His tongue slipped over mine. He pushed his hand down into my jeans, his fingers skimming over the tender head of my cock. A rolling shudder broke free, branching out from my core to my arms, legs, hands, and feet. When his fingers coiled around my cock, I gasped, breaking the wet seal of our lips.
“I thought a dude your age would need a day or two to recover… Ah man, that is so good.” He stroked me from base to tip while nipping along my jaw line. His tongue ran up over my cheek.
“You’ve got one hell of a beard for a kid your age,” he purred, then pressed a soft kiss to the corner of my eye. Keeping upright was growing tricky. My knees felt soft.
“I’m not a kid,” I reminded him with more than a little attitude. He p
ulled back an inch or so and thumbed the head of my cock. A ragged breath fluttered over my lips.
“No, you are certainly not a kid. Sorry for that.”
He dipped into my mouth gently, teasing me with flicks of his tongue along the edge of my teeth, all the while working my cock with a tight fist. Just as I was falling into the pace of his strokes, he stopped. Once his hand was out of my jeans, he found my fly.
“Not a kid at all,” he stated before freeing my cock and dropping to his knees in front of me.
“Oh shit,” I gasped when he sucked me into his mouth.
Fingers seeking purchase, I found the edge of the counter after knocking the container of strawberries to the floor. Mads closed his eyes and went deep, slipping my cock down his throat as his fingers held my ass cheeks. My jeans lingered around my knees. He seemed content to leave them there, his head bobbing as he twisted and twirled his tongue along the bottom of my cock. The man knew how to give head. Like, he had escort skills, or what I assumed an escort would know. I’d never used one. If I had, he’d have looked just like Mads, who was in control of his maturity and sexual experience. He worked it so well…
“Are you close?”
I grunted and thrust, the rasp of his teeth along my cock painful but not enough to pull me back from the brink. Mads cupped my balls, squeezed firmly, then went back down on me. One hand on my stomach to keep me in place, he sucked and clasped, sucked and clasped, until I blew apart. My head kicked back violently, his name falling out of me as I came. He swallowed rapidly, humming in pleasure as I bucked and moaned.
“Oh, oh, oh shit, shit.” My balls contracted in his grip.
Mads licked me clean, then got to his feet. His eyes were like pools of blue fire.
“You want me to suck you off?” I asked.
“No, I want you to pick up the berries, wash them off, and bring them back to bed.” He padded off, giving me a great view of his tight ass and corded thighs.
I pulled up my jeans, zipped, and scooped up and washed strawberries as fast as I could. I ran to the bedroom, a dripping plastic container full of freshly rinsed berries in my hand. Mads was spread out across his bed, filling the thing with hard muscle, long limbs, and a thick, hard cock and heavy balls. I couldn’t tear my gaze from his prick. You’d think I would have gotten enough of him last night, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
