Kinky Sprinkles

by L. A. Witt

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Andre moaned, jerking and shuddering until he finally sighed and slumped against Joel.

  For a moment, they just stood there catching their breaths, letting the wall hold both of them up. It was Joel who finally spoke.

  “April dragged me to the munch and she dragged me here tonight.” He licked his lips. “I think I owe her.”

  Andre laughed. “You and me both.” He cupped Joel’s face and kissed him softly. “I still have to finish in here, but afterward . . .”

  “I still need to run April home.”

  “Right. Right.” He held Joel’s gaze. “Meet me at my house around ten?”

  Words he never thought he’d hear from Andre’s mouth, and yet they didn’t seem the least bit out of place now.

  Joel nodded. “Ten. Your house. I can do that.”

  “Good.” Andre’s grin promised all kinds of deliciously dirty things after ten. “Let me get you my address, and I’ll see you there.”

  The second he stepped out of the playroom, Joel had to pause and wonder if that had all been a dream. If he’d closed himself in there and lost himself in a very realistic fantasy.

  Then again, his fantasies didn’t usually include awkwardly trying to wipe off hands before fastening pants, and both of them laughing over how hard it was to keep from accidentally dropping trou just to avoid getting come everywhere. His fantasies were elaborate, but not to that extent.

  And, for that matter, when he checked his pockets, he did have Andre’s address scribbled on the back of a wrinkled grocery store receipt. Which meant this had really happened. Which meant he was really joining Andre in his bed tonight.

  Joel’s knees were wobbly as he went down the stairs. He gripped the handrail for balance and took the steps slowly and carefully—it would, after all, be just his luck to tumble down them and wind up in a hospital bed instead of Andre’s.

  Not tonight, gravity. Not tonight.

  By the grace of God—or maybe, like, some kink-friendly cousin of God’s—Joel made it to the bottom without incident, and went looking for April. The lounge was busier now, with clusters of people chatting over drinks and hanging out on couches. He found her fairly close to where he’d left her. She was still sitting kind of gingerly, rocked back so she was basically sitting on the part of the chastity belt that covered her butt, and had a fresh bottle of water balanced on her knee. Nancy was still there, still with her high-heeled boots propped up on the back of her sub, who was still on his hands and knees in front of the couch. Either they were all quite comfortable, or Joel hadn’t been gone very long, despite feeling like he’d been upstairs for hours.

  “I’m telling you,” April was in the middle of saying as he approached, “they didn’t listen to me, but they’re in for a rude awakening if they tear that place down.”

  “Oh, I know.” Nancy clicked her tongue. “Fucking morons.”

  “No kidding. Ugh. They didn’t believe me when I said the place was loaded down with asbestos, but mark my words, they’ll believe me the minute they— Oh hey, Joel.” April grinned as he sat down beside her. “You look like you’re in a good mood.”

  Joel laughed, probably sounding drunk, because he sure felt drunk. “I am.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that, did you?”

  April winked and patted his leg. “You’re welcome.”

  “You conniving . . .” He shook his head. “Okay, okay. I totally owe you one.”

  “One?” She snorted. “Bitch, please. I own you for the next six months.”

  “Uh-huh. We’ll see how that goes after tonight.” He paused. “Speaking of . . .”

  She smirked. “You want to drop me off at home so you can go do unspeakable things with Andre?”

  “Well when you put it like that, I sound like a bit of a dick.”

  She patted his leg. “If the shoe fits . . .”

  “Shut up.” He swatted her hand away, and they both laughed.

  Snickering, she started to get up.

  “If you want to stay,” Nancy said, “we can take you home.”

  April froze. “Really?”

  “It’s up to you,” Joel said. “If you’re having a good time, I don’t want to drag you away.”

  Her lips quirked. “Well, going home means sitting by myself.”

  Joel winced. “I’m sorry. If you want to stay, I can—”

  “You can go have a good time with Andre.” Nancy winked and motioned toward the door. “Go on. Get out of here.”

  He hesitated anyway, and turned to April. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure. Go.”

  “Okay. Thanks. To both of you.” He glanced at Nancy’s sub, who was still doubling as an ottoman. “All three of you.”

  They shooed him away, so he started to go.

  “Oh, and Joel?” April called after him.

  He turned around, eyebrows up.

  She gave him a toothy grin. “I expect details.”

  Joel swung by his apartment to take the dog out. Then he grabbed a shower, threw on some fresh clothes, and burned rubber over to Andre’s. The GPS seemed to talk even slower than normal, spelling out directions without any sense of urgency because it wasn’t like she was in any hurry to get there.

  Eventually, though, the narrator lazily directed him down the street that matched the one from Andre’s address and, a moment later, indicated he’d arrived.

  He parked in front of the closed garage of a small brick rambler. When he killed the engine, his heart sped up.

  This is it. I’m here. Let’s do this.

  Oh God. Why do I feel like this is going to be a disaster?

  Just go inside.

  He took a deep breath, got out of the car, and followed the walk up to the front door. Before he could knock—or turn tail and run because hello nerves—the door opened, and there was Andre. Gorgeous, grinning Andre. He must’ve showered too—his black hair was damp and slicked back like he’d run his fingers through it a few times to organize it.

  He stood aside. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” Joel hesitated, but then stepped inside. As he took off his shoes and put them by the neat rows behind the door, he looked around. Andre’s house was, not surprisingly, perfectly normal. A mantel covered in photos of people who were probably either family or friends. Some photo albums and magazines on the coffee table next to a small rack of coasters and two candy dishes—one full of Hershey Kisses, the other holding some crumpled foil wrappers. Somehow that little hint of laziness brought Andre down to earth. Joel could just imagine him leaning back on the couch and trying to dunk the wrapper in the bowl like a basketball. Exactly what he would’ve done.

  Andre had an impressive collection of framed artwork on the walls, and he had amazing taste in landscape photography. Above the TV were three beautiful images of sunsets behind what looked like temples, though Joel couldn’t place them.

  “So.” Andre cleared his throat, pulling Joel’s attention away from their surroundings. “Can I get you anything? Wine? A beer?”

  “No, thank you.” Joel shook his head. They stared at each other in nervous silence for a moment, and he knew if that lasted much longer, he’d chicken out of this whole thing. Time to leap forward, if clumsily, and hope for the best.

  Despite his nerves, he stepped closer and hooked a finger in Andre’s belt loop. “I think we both know what I’m here for.”

  For a split second, he panicked, habitually worried he’d stepped out of line.

  But Andre grinned and wrapped his arms around him. “Yes, we do.” And just like that, they were kissing again, picking up where they’d left off at the dungeon. He had a feeling Andre, like him, had had plenty of time to completely recharge, and was ready for round two.

  Bring it on.

  Abruptly, Andre broke the kiss. “Bedroom.”

  Joel nodded because he’d forgotten how to speak, and let himself be led down the hall. At the end of it, Andre opened the
door and gestured for him to go in.

  He’d half expected Andre’s bedroom to resemble something straight out of the dungeon. Scary-looking implements hanging on hooks against black walls. Coils of rope. Candles that were not just used for ambiance.

  But no, like the rest of the house, Andre’s bedroom was perfectly normal. A king-sized bed with a cool-blue comforter. Pale-blue walls. White curtains. A stack of books and a bottle of lube on the nightstand. The only hints Joel could see of Andre’s kinky side were some eyebolts in the ceiling and above the headboard.

  From behind, Andre slid his hands over Joel’s hips and pulled him back against him. He kissed the side of Joel’s neck as he pushed his hard-on against his ass.

  “I have to say,” he murmured, pausing to nibble Joel’s ear, “I’m really glad you’re the punctual type.”

  Don’t you dare say it shows I’m obedient. “Oh yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Andre’s hand snaked around to the front, and his finger teased Joel’s cock through his pants. “Not sure I could’ve waited much longer.”

  Joel shivered and pressed back into him. “Neither could I. So what are we waiting for?”

  Andre laughed, sending a rush of warm breath across the side of Joel’s neck. “We’re not waiting for anything. This part’s half the fun.”

  “C-can’t . . .” Joel moaned as Andre stroked his clothed erection. “Can’t argue with that. But we should really get these clothes off.”

  “You make a valid point.” Andre slipped his hand under the front of Joel’s shirt, hot fingertips brushing ticklish skin and making all the muscles contract. “I get you naked and all to myself. I’m fucking loving this.”

  Joel just moaned again, leaning against him and hoping like hell he didn’t wake from this dream any time soon.

  “Clothes off,” Andre said. “Definitely.”

  They separated, and both started unbuckling their own belts. Tenderly undressing each other or frantically ripping clothes apart were fine and good. Tonight, Joel and Andre were all about efficiency—clothes off, meet you in bed. They stripped off every stitch of clothing, and Andre pulled the covers back.

  And then . . .

  Oh.

  My God.

  I’m in Andre’s bed. Naked. With him.

  The dungeon and everyone in it were a world away now. It was just Joel, Andre, and a bed big enough for both of them. With nothing left between them, they kissed and touched all over, trailing palms and fingertips over arms, shoulders, backs, hips.

  Andre’s hand drifted across Joel’s stomach, and Joel’s mind threatened its usual avalanche of reminders of how much he’d let himself go and how unappealing he was and how he needed to lose weight faster. The familiar “God, this is depressing” feeling tugged at his gut, but he pushed it all away. He reminded himself that if Andre found him unappealing, they wouldn’t be here right now, and he clung to that as he explored Andre’s anything-but-unappealing body.

  Shut up, brain.

  For once, his brain shut up, and his entire focus zeroed in on the man beside him. There were a million things Joel wanted to do with him. He wanted to suck Andre’s cock. He wanted to explore every single inch of this gorgeous, powerful, sculpted body.

  But every time one of them moved, and Andre’s erection brushed his hip or his leg, Joel wanted one thing and one thing only.

  “F-fuck me,” he finally murmured. He didn’t know if it sounded like a plea or a demand, and he really didn’t care. He wanted Andre’s cock, and he wanted it now.

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Andre kissed him again. “Let me get a condom.”

  Joel’s pulse sped up. Yes, yes, yes.

  But as Andre reached for the nightstand, something clenched in Joel’s stomach. Andre was . . . impressive. Though Joel was hardly an inexperienced bottom, he knew all too well how painful things could get if a top who was half the size of Andre—looking at you, Rob—wasn’t careful. And when that top was a sadist . . .

  Andre tore the wrapper, startling Joel.

  “What?” Andre froze. “Something wrong?”

  Joel lowered his gaze. “I, uh . . . This may sound crazy, but . . .”

  Andre wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulders. “Tell me.” It wasn’t an order. Just a gentle prod. Andre’s Dom voice was long gone, replaced by a softer tone that soothed Joel right to the core.

  He swallowed. “Listen, um . . . when I say I don’t like pain, I especially mean with . . . with this.”

  Andre’s eyes flicked toward the condom, and his breath hitched. “With fucking you, you mean?”

  Joel nodded.

  “Oh my God.” Andre stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” It was so bizarre to hear that from a card-carrying sadist. Even more bizarre to believe it.

  He relaxed and let himself be drawn into a warm embrace and a deep kiss.

  Andre pulled back and held his gaze for a moment. “You know what?” He finished putting on the condom. “Just to make sure I’m not hurting you, why don’t you get on top?” He lay on his back and started coating the condom with a generous amount of lube.

  Joel almost whimpered with excitement. He hadn’t ridden a man in ages.

  With the condom lubed up, Andre motioned for Joel to get on top, and Joel was more than happy to oblige.

  “I can use my fingers first,” Andre said. “I mean, if—”

  “No, no.” Joel straddled him and ignored his own thumping heart. “Long as we’re doing it at my speed, I’ll be fine.”

  Andre smiled, running a hand up the inside of Joel’s thigh. “Your call.”

  Joel lifted himself up, and with Andre’s help, came down on Andre’s dick. The man was definitely thicker than anything Joel had taken in a while, and this wasn’t going to happen quickly. He let the head press against him without sliding any farther. Maybe fingers would’ve been a good idea. Just to relax him.

  No, this was fine. As long as Joel set the pace, he’d be just fine. And at least so far, Andre didn’t seem to mind at all. He bit his lip and ran his hand up and down Joel’s leg, steadying the base of his cock with his other hand.

  Joel pressed back a bit more, and the head slid past his tight ring, making his breath catch. “Fuck . . .”

  “You all right?”

  “Uh-huh.” He lifted himself a little, then came back down. Gradually, he took him even deeper, and God, Andre’s cock was thick. He was, as Joel had decided back at the dungeon, just the right size. Big enough to stretch him and make sure he felt every inch, not so huge that he’d need medical attention.

  As his body relaxed and he slid easily up and down, he picked up speed. Goddamn, Andre felt incredible. He had seemed almost too big at first, but now he was just perfect, filling Joel up and making his eyes water. Oh, this was worth tonight’s trip to the dungeon. So worth it.

  He wanted to ride him even faster, but the ache in his thighs slowed him down. He winced, rubbing his hip.

  “What’s wrong?” Andre asked.

  “Sorry.” Joel laughed self-consciously. “Legs are getting tired.”

  “No problem. Why don’t you turn around and let me do some of the work?”

  Their eyes met, and the gleam in Andre’s told him he was in for a hell of a fuck now that Andre was taking charge.

  Joel licked his lips. “Yes, please.”

  He lifted himself up off Andre’s cock. They shifted around, and once Joel was settled on his hands and knees, Andre guided himself in. Though they’d already been fucking for a while, he was still gentle, sliding back in carefully. The caution wasn’t necessary, but the smooth, fluid strokes were amazing in their own right, so Joel didn’t protest. Andre held Joel’s hips and rocked against him, still riding him slowly. It had been so, so long since Joel had been fucked like this, and he’d forgotten how amazing it felt to just savor every smooth, easy stroke.

  He rocked back, fully expecting those strong hands to tighten on his hips and restrict his m
ovements, but . . . no. Andre fell into sync with him, moving faster, hitting the perfect rhythm to blur Joel’s vision.

  “Like that?” he asked.

  Joel hesitated. Was this a game? A trick? A chance for Andre to suddenly shift gears just to fuck with him?

  “Y-yeah.” He licked his lips. “Feels really good.”

  “Good.” Warm, slightly rough hands ran up his sides, then back down to his hips. “God, you feel great.” Andre groaned softly, and might’ve cursed, though Joel couldn’t say for sure. Then, “Can you handle it harder?”

  “I would love it harder.”

  “Just tell me if it hurts.”

  Joel started to respond, but Andre slammed into him.

  “Oh . . . God,” Joel choked out just before Andre did it again. And again. And, oh sweet Jesus, he loved being fucked like this. Deep and hard, fast and frantic. Slow and smooth had been fun for a while, but now that he was taking Andre’s dick this easily, he wanted everything Andre could give him.

  Andre didn’t disappoint. He gripped Joel’s hips painfully tight—but not too painfully—and released a throaty, animalistic groan as he fucked him. The force of Andre’s thrusts drove Joel all the way down onto the mattress, and Andre followed him. Now, every time Andre buried himself inside Joel, he pushed him against the sheets, and the friction against Joel’s dick was divine.

  “Oh God,” Joel moaned. “Gonna—”

  Andre found some reserve of energy somewhere and thrust even harder, forcing every inch of his cock into Joel, and suddenly Joel was coming while Andre relentlessly pounded him. Joel clawed at the sheets. Andre bit his shoulder. They both trembled, grunted, jerked, and Andre ground his hips against Joel’s ass as if he could still get just a little deeper, and then he shuddered.

  Then they both relaxed.

  “Holy fuck,” Andre moaned.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Andre pulled out and dropped onto the bed beside him. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” he panted, “for a long time.”

  Joel could barely move. His orgasm still seemed to echo through his entire body, reverberating off nerve endings and thrumming beneath his skin. How long had it been since he’d come like that? Jesus. Ages. And even longer since it had been with another person.