Golden

by Sean Michael

  “I’m just…. You know.”

  “You just need to trust me, and I know you know how to do that.”

  “I do. I do trust you.”

  “Then we’re golden.”

  Justin chuckled, if a bit weakly. “I was once upon a time. Do you remember?”

  “You still are to me, Justin.” Coach stared him right in the eye as he said it, not an ounce of guile there.

  Justin reached up, cupped Coach’s cheeks in both hands. Coach kept looking right into him, and Justin had no words. None.

  “I love you, Justin. I want you here with me. I want you by my side.”

  Justin leaned in, brought their lips together. Coach opened up, sucking on Justin’s tongue as soon as he slipped it into Coach’s mouth. This kiss wasn’t as lazy, easy. This kiss made his abs tight. Humming like he knew, Coach made the kiss even deeper. Justin moaned, let himself slide against Coach’s body. God, he wanted.

  Coach’s hand, the one still on Justin’s ass, glided along his crack. Justin wasn’t sure whether to push back or pull away. Coach took the choice from him, fingertip breaching him.

  “Oh.” Justin wasn’t sore anymore, but the touch was still unfamiliar, surprising.

  “So hot.” Coach’s voice was low, rough, and needy.

  “Uh-huh.” Justin was hot. He felt like he was burning up.

  Coach plucked the body wash off the shower caddy and poured it into his hand. Then his finger was back, slippery and slick, pushing into Justin. He rocked, the strange glassy burn exciting as fuck. Coach’s finger probed deep inside him, moving, thrusting at his insides. His abs tightened, and he clenched involuntarily.

  Another finger pushed into him, stretching him farther as Coach insisted Justin had room for it too. His nipples went hard, aching on his chest. Then a third finger breached him, stretching him wide. He gasped softly, warning Coach that he was full.

  “You’ll take my whole hand one day.”

  “No way.” That was impossible.

  “Yes. But not today. Today you’ll take my cock.” Coach’s fingers hit Justin’s gland as he said it.

  Justin jerked, bucked forward. Lightning. It was like lightning. Groaning, Coach latched on to his mouth and then did that thing with his fingers again. Justin’s eyes rolled, and he shook. Oh fuck. Again. Coach obliged his silent plea, fingers brushing that spot again and again, tonguefucking his mouth with the same rhythm. Justin’s cock ached, his ball sac tight, and he was going to shoot. He had to.

  The kisses ended, and Coach’s hot lips met Justin’s neck. The pressure inside Justin grew, and he whimpered, his cock leaking, dripping, as Coach worked him.

  “You’ve already come,” murmured Coach. “You wait for me to be fucking you before you do it again.”

  “You….” Those fingers didn’t stop moving, stroking Justin inside, over and over.

  “There will be nipple clamps if you come before then.”

  “You have to stop touching!” Justin spread his thighs and lifted on tiptoe.

  “I have to make sure you’re stretched enough to take my cock.”

  The touching didn’t stop, the fluttering caress inside Justin making him sob. Coach’s fingers alternately spread and twisted together but always came up against that spot. Justin came unexpectedly, with none of the usual warning sensations. It didn’t even feel like a real orgasm, but spunk poured out of him, spilling on Coach’s thigh.

  “Damn, Just. Now I’m going to have to punish you.” Coach really didn’t have to sound quite so fucking pleased about it.

  He shook his head. “You… you did that.”

  “Semantics. I’m still using the clamps on your nipples when we’re done in here.” Coach’s fingers slid out of him.

  Justin’s knees buckled a little, his body empty but his nerves still firing. Coach turned him to face the wall, his big, solid body close behind Justin, hard cock rubbing Justin’s ass. Justin’s entire body bucked, hips rocking instinctively.

  “Needy boy. I’m coming.” Coach reached for something just outside the shower.

  “Coach.” He shook his head, sucked in one breath after another.

  “Just getting a condom, J.”

  Justin nodded, trying to pull his thoughts together. Coach was up against his back again before he knew it.

  “Can’t wait to be inside you again.”

  “You liked it?”

  Coach’s hand slid along his back. “Fucking loved it.”

  Justin liked how that sounded. “Good.”

  “Yeah. Very.” Coach shifted his legs, and his strong hands spread Justin’s ass.

  He groaned, hands skidding on the tile.

  “Gonna be inside you, Justin.” Coach pushed, and his thick cock pressed hard against Justin’s hole.

  Justin moaned, the stretch sweet, almost comforting now.

  “Oh fuck. Justin. So fucking tight.” Coach kept pushing in, taking him.

  Justin reached up until his hands were high above his head against the tile. He pressed against the wall, Coach good and solid behind him. Coach’s cock was so deep, it seemed to fill him totally, spread him, pierce him. Then Coach wiggled a little and brushed his gland. He cried out, shocked.

  “There,” growled Coach, pushing into Justin and hitting it again.

  “Coach!” Impossibly, his cock tried to fill once more.

  “That’s right, babe.” Coach nailed that spot with another hard thrust.

  Justin was trapped between the wall and his lover, and there was nowhere to go. Coach set up a quick pace, pushing into him and lighting his body up every time. All he could do was ride it, go with it. When Coach’s hand shoved between him and the wall to grab his prick, Justin was almost stunned to realize he was hard again.

  “I can’t. I can’t do it again.” His body went tight.

  “You can. This time with permission. On my order.”

  He shook his head. No way.

  “Oh yes. You will, Justin. You always did follow my orders.” Coach’s thumb pressed against his slit. The little sting was sweet, sharp, and Justin’s eyes crossed. Coach groaned. “I felt that.”

  “Huh?”

  Coach pressed his slit again, lighting up his whole body. “When I do that, you ripple around my prick.”

  Justin made a low, hungry sound and shivered.

  “Mmm. Felt that too.” Coach jerked into him a few more times, hitting his gland, the double assault of cock inside him and fingers on his cock almost too much.

  He started crying out over and over, moaning and calling for Coach.

  “Yes. Justin. My boy. Mine.” Coach’s hand tightened on Justin’s cock, working him faster, harder.

  He shook, caught, kept on crying out Coach’s name, over and over.

  “Okay, Justin. Fuck. Come on now. Come for me. Come. For. Me.” Each word was accompanied by a thrust.

  Justin screamed, slapping the tile as his cock pulsed. His legs turned to rubber and threatened to give out on him. But Coach, who had frozen behind him, moaning loudly through his own orgasm, wrapped around him and held him, kept him from collapsing.

  “That’s it, babe. My beautiful boy.” Coach peppered Justin’s shoulders with soft kisses.

  “I’m so tired.” Justin held on, breathing deep. “Please. Let me stay.” Coach had said he could—no, should—but Justin’s brain was overwhelmed.

  “You’re staying.” Coach slipped out of him and turned off the water before half carrying him out of the shower and wrapping him in a towel.

  Soon Justin was in Coach’s bed, held close, protected.

  “Love you, Just.” The words followed Justin into his dreams.

  Chapter Six

  CHRIS WOKE with his arms full of Justin.

  Man, he could get used to this—he was going to get used to this because Justin was going to move in with him. It was where the man belonged, after all. Justin needed unlike anyone he’d ever seen, trusted him, loved him. It was sexy. It was hot. It was arousing. It made him fee
l like everything was as it should be.

  Justin murmured softly, nuzzling him.

  “Yeah, babe.” He slid his hand along Justin’s spine.

  “Coach. Love.” Justin kissed his jaw, then dozed back off.

  He beamed, though. Justin had called him love. His boy knew, in his heart, what was what. Thank God for the strength that let Justin call him, let him in.

  Chris began touching, his fingers already addicted to the feel of Justin’s skin. His boy moaned, rocking gently against him. Humming happily, he slid one hand around so he could play with Justin’s sensitive little nipples. Justin rumbled, curled in to protect them. Chris insisted, though. Really, they should always be swollen, bruised. It needed to be a rule.

  Justin was going to be topless a lot. If they were always swollen and dark, it wouldn’t seem odd. He slid down Justin’s body, dropping a kiss on one shoulder before zeroing in on those sweet little nubs. Justin’s hands moved to hide them, his boy still asleep. He took Justin’s wrists and drew his hands up over his head.

  Those beautiful bright blue eyes popped open. “Coach?”

  He smiled into Justin’s eyes as he transferred both wrists to his left hand. “Morning.”

  “M-morning.” Sweet, confused boy.

  He ignored the sweet nipple in front of him in favor of taking Justin’s mouth in a good-morning kiss. Justin groaned, kissing him lazily, still mostly asleep. Chris kissed Justin until he was breathless, and then he moved down to take Justin’s right nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and working the blood to the surface.

  “I…. Oh.”

  That was right. Feel it.

  He scraped with his teeth and then flapped his tongue back and forth across the tip, never letting up the suction.

  “Coach. Coach, you can’t….” Justin was rocking now, hips rolling against Chris. Like his boy wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if he stopped.

  He sucked even harder.

  “Aches.” Justin tugged at his hand, muscles rippling.

  He didn’t let go of Justin’s hands, but he did switch nipples. He bit and sucked, then bit again, tugging hard. He got to clamp these today. Maybe he’d spend a few sessions with them, make them so sensitive. Pulling a leg around Justin, he hauled his boy into him, giving that writhing body someone to rub against.

  Justin made the sweetest noises, deep and raw, cock leaving wet trails on Chris’s belly. He hummed around Justin’s nipple, vibrating the now supersensitive skin.

  “Stop. Coach. Oh, fuck.” Justin pushed harder.

  He bit the tip of Justin’s nipple, fairly hard. Justin jerked, spunk covering his belly. Chris rubbed their bellies together, the slick making everything glide and slide. Justin moaned, shivering against him, expression stunned.

  Chris let go of his boy’s hands and grinned. “Good morning.”

  “I. Morning. You. Damn.”

  He grinned, utterly pleased to have made Justin entirely incoherent.

  “How are you so awake?”

  Chris made the only reply that made sense. “I have a beautiful man in my bed. Why wouldn’t I want to be awake for that?”

  “It’s early.”

  Chuckling, Chris rubbed his prick against Justin’s body. He wasn’t sleepy. He wanted to play. They had two days before they had to be at the pool with the kids, and he wanted Justin back in the water before that.

  “You wanna help me out here?” Chris rubbed again, his prick leaking on Justin’s skin. He knew his boy. There wasn’t a selfish bone in Justin’s body. Spoiled, sure. Temperamental, Christ on a crutch. But not selfish.

  Justin reached down, cupped Chris’s cock.

  “Mmm.” He drove into Justin’s touch as he pressed their mouths together.

  Justin worked him, fingers sure, confident, touch enough to cross Chris’s eyes. He slid his own hand up, eager to feel the lovely heat of Justin’s abused nipples.

  “Don’t. Don’t touch.”

  He met Justin’s gaze and snagged one of the little tits.

  “They ache.”

  “Good.” He tugged on Justin’s nipple. “I want them to.”

  Justin grabbed his hand. “Stop it.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He squeezed Justin’s nipple with the fingers of his other hand.

  “Stop! No touching. I’ll be thinking about them all the time.”

  He nodded. Yeah, that worked for him. He tugged on Justin’s nipple again, hard.

  Justin drew away, hands over his nipples. “I said stop. Fuck, man. You’re making me crazy.”

  Chris held Justin’s hands and wrenched them away from those lovely nipples. “That’s the idea. But we can start with the clamps instead.”

  “No way.”

  Oh yes. No denying Chris access to those nipples. It was a rule. “I promised you this punishment for coming without permission last night.”

  “You made me.”

  “I encouraged you. Didn’t make you.” He moved over Justin, searching through the little drawer in the bedside table.

  Justin moved away from him. “You did too.”

  “It’s semantics, anyway.” He found a pair of clamps and moved back to straddle Justin.

  Justin twisted, giving Chris his back. “No.”

  He leaned down and spoke against Justin’s spine. “You know you want it, Just. You want to know I see you, that I love you and will give you what you need.”

  Justin stilled, shivered.

  “Let me do this for you. For us.”

  “Coach.”

  Petting, gentling, Chris waited Justin out until his boy turned. He rewarded Justin with a long, deep kiss. Justin was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

  “I have you,” Chris told Justin, his fingers finding Justin’s right nipple, making sure it was good and hard, peaking into his touch for the clamp about to come.

  “I don’t want to do this.” Justin’s nipple was rock hard.

  “You do. You want me to tell you I love you. And I do. And you want me to do this.” Chris put the first clamp on Justin’s right nipple.

  The clamp wasn’t vicious, wasn’t sharp at all, but still Justin arched up, then reached for it.

  “No touching.” Chris growled the words out but didn’t stop Justin’s movements—his boy needed to obey on his own.

  “It hurts.”

  He bent and blew on the clamped nipple. “It’s a good ache, though.” He didn’t phrase the words as a question.

  “I….” Justin shook his head, abs rolling.

  “The other one now.” He flicked the free nipple a few times, but it was already hard and reaching for the clamp, so he slid it on.

  “Take them off!”

  “In fifteen minutes.” He circled Justin’s clamped nipples with his fingertips.

  “I’m going home. Right now.”

  “You’re staying right here. We’ll go back to your place to get your stuff later.” He wanted Justin home—home here. Now.

  “I’m not!” That temper flared. “Fuck! I want them off.”

  Chris leaned in and took Justin’s mouth, pulling the words right into himself. He held Justin’s hands, keeping his boy stretched, long. Running his free hand along Justin’s side, he teased around the sweet nipples again. Justin screamed into his lips, legs kicking. That was it. Justin needed to let it all out. All of it.

  He held on. Chris had helped build the muscles in this body, studied it religiously for years. He knew it. Legs holding Justin down, Chris circled the other nipple.

  “Leave me alone!” Justin was hard as nails, rubbing against him.

  “Never again.”

  “Liar.” Justin gazed at him, though. So hopeful.

  Chris held Justin’s gaze and shook his head. “I don’t lie to you, Justin.”

  “I hated you.”

  “I know.” He didn’t look away.

  “I don’t know what to do, Coach.”

  “You come home, Justin. Where you belong.”

  Justin appeared so y
oung, so vulnerable. “I want to.”

  “We can go pick up your stuff later today. I’ll show you the pool I’m working at later too.” Get his boy in the pool; that would remind Justin of where he belonged.

  “Okay.” The word was just a whisper, so tired.

  Together they were going to find Justin’s joy again. Swimming. Routine. As much love as Justin could stand.

  Bending, Chris kissed Justin softly, careful not to touch the clamped nipples. Justin cried for him, tears slipping from the pretty eyes.

  He broke their kiss to lick the tears away. “Love you, Justin. My boy.”

  Justin took a long, shuddering breath. Chris kept licking, tongue tracing Justin’s lips. He kept murmuring, telling Justin how long he’d waited, wanted. Whispering little praises. He glanced at the clock. Only a few minutes left until he took the clamps off. He’d be surprised if doing that alone didn’t make Justin come.

  He upped the ante, though, wanting this to be good, wanting to overwhelm the upset with need, so he reached down and stroked Justin to full aching hardness.

  “You’re allowed to come,” he told Justin. His boy would learn to wait for the permission, would crave being made to wait and prove himself.

  “I already did once.”

  “You will again.” He was sure of it. Justin had never felt anything like the clamps coming off his tits.

  Chris kept stroking, kept kissing, keeping Justin off-balance. When the fifteen minutes were up, he let Justin know. “The clamps are coming off now—you did great.”

  “Take them off.” Justin looked a little desperate.

  “I said I would.”

  He watched Justin’s face as he reached for the first clamp and removed it. The shock was delicious, Justin’s eyes wide, lips parted, not even a gasp leaving him. Bending, Chris wrapped his lips around the abused flesh, sucking, encouraging the blood to come back into Justin’s nipple. Soft, near-hysterical cries filled the air.

  He rubbed the tip of Justin’s prick and then murmured, “The other one now.” He took the second clamp off with his teeth.

  “No!” Justin jerked away, hands covering those poor nipples.

  He jacked Justin hard. “Yes. Come on now. Feel it all and come.” He leaned in, bit Justin’s earlobe. “Gonna punish you, boy. No hiding those nips from me. Ever.”