Personal Best 2

by Sean Michael

  “Love your hands.” Mike wriggled, rubbed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

  “I know.” Jess grinned up at him and then took one of Mike’s nipples between soft lips and tugged.

  Oh, that felt good. Teasing ass. “Love your mouth too.”

  Jess nodded and nipped sharply at his nipple. Mike gasped and bucked up, rubbing harder, needing.

  “You’re a sexy beast, Mike.” Jess dragged his tongue over Mike’s belly, and wrapped his hands around Mike’s hips, tilting him so that his cock bumped Jess’s chin.

  “Oh. Yours.” Oh, that rasp and heat was going to make him come.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Mine.” Jess’s gaze was heated, and then he looked down as he pulled Mike’s cock in deep.

  “Fuck!” Mike bucked, heels digging into the mattress, hips immediately thrusting.

  Jess moved his hands back around to push against Mike’s hips, holding them against the bed. Mike groaned, twisting, fighting Jess’s hands. Fuck, he was turned on. Jess moved his mouth incrementally, pulling right off before sliding back down to the base again.

  “Jess….” He parted his thighs, hips bucking, eyes rolling. Jess hummed, moving faster, mouth sliding on him. “Gonna come. Jess. Fuck.”

  Jess nodded, chin rubbing against his pubic hair. Oh, thank fuck. He bucked, spunk pouring from him. Jess swallowed Mike down and then took his time licking him clean, tongue lapping away at his cock. Mike hummed, easing into the sheets, relaxing. Melting. Jess slid down to lick and suck at his balls, pushing his legs back as Jess’s tongue moved farther down.

  “Mmm…. Jess….” He spread, eyes closed.

  “Got it in one, kid.” Jess laughed, the puff of air blowing against his hole.

  Oh, that tickled. He jerked, giggled. Jess blew deliberately this time and then licked, tongue hot and slick against him. Mike stretched, bucking his hips, shifting against Jess’s tongue. Jess’s hands landed on the backs of his thighs, pushing, holding him open as Jess’s tongue danced inside him.

  “Oh. Oh, fuck. Jess. Love.” Anything. He’d give Jess anything.

  “Yeah, it’s still me.”

  One more lick and then something round and hard and cool pressed against him, pushed into him. The first of the beads. His hips moved steadily, constantly. Jess purred, licking at the inside of his thigh as another bead shoved into him.

  He knew he could take these—knew the pressure and slide like he knew the pool downstairs, the university pool. One after another, Jess put them into him. His lover’s mouth moved over his skin as the beads went in, licking and breathing on him. Fucking was like swimming—body rocking, moving toward the goal.

  And Jess pushed him here, just like in the pool, the last few beads making Mike’s eyes roll back in his head, body stretching wide over the hard surface.

  “No more, Jess. Full. No more.” He shifted, groaned, ass sliding on the sheets.

  “I’ll make that decision, Mike.” Another bead dragged against his hole, pushed in.

  Shit. It was like the laps. He thought they were done. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

  “Mmm… yeah.” Yet another bead was seated against him, teasing, slick and cool.

  “I. I thought…. So full.”

  “You’re not supposed to be able to think, Mike.” That bead moved into him, inexorable, undeniable.

  “Oh.” He dug his feet against the mattress, body bowing, and the pressure never let up.

  Jess kissed the inside of Mike’s thigh again. “Just one more.”

  “I. One. One more. For you.”

  “That’s right.” Jess licked his hole, tongue teasing the last bead that had been put in. Twisting, tugging, Mike groaned, trying his damnedest to focus. “Here it comes,” murmured Jess. That last bead felt huge against his hole.

  He was drowning, cock slapping hard against his belly, balls tight as stones.

  “Don’t come,” growled Jess, insisting he take the final bead.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jess.” His eyes rolled, muscles tight as he fought the urge to shoot.

  Jess licked at Mike’s hole again, and then the leather cock ring circled his prick, tight, binding. He almost screamed in frustration, hips pumping, wanting to come. Jess moved his legs back down, stretching him out and lying next to him, hands idly touching.

  “You bastard. Fuck. I need.” He panted, toes curling, ass shifting.

  “I know. It looks good on you.” Jess licked at his neck, his shoulder.

  He looked over, biting into his bottom lip. “Sadist. Oh, fuck. It’s so big. You and me. So fucking big.”

  Jess pressed their lips together. “It’s everything, baby.”

  Yeah. The whole fucking world. He ran his tongue against Jess’s lips, moaning low. Jess’s tongue danced with his, hard cock rubbing against his leg. The tension eased, became a sweet, deep ache, something shattering and real. Necessary.

  They kissed forever, moving their mouths together, giving and taking, Jess moving his finger over Mike’s skin. He eased, undulating under that touch, his entire focus on the way Jess loved him, on the still silence inside him.

  “I’m going to pull them out now,” Jess murmured. “I want to be inside you.”

  “Anything.” He nodded, gaze on Jessy’s. “Anything.”

  “I love you,” Jess murmured, as his legs were spread again, the beads shifting as Jess gripped the string that trailed from his body. He groaned, anticipation stroking up his spine.

  “You fucking glow, Mike.” Jess tugged the string, just a little, just enough to start opening his hole, but not enough to actually pull the first bead out. Mike moaned, full and hard and happy as fuck.

  Jess licked at his lips, kissed him once, and then backed away a bit, watching Mike’s body as the beads were pulled from him, quick and hard, each one opening him up to get out.

  His peace was shattered, just like that, hips bucking, feet planted on the bed. “Oh. Fuck. Yes.”

  “Yes.” Jess’s voice was little more than a growl, and he shifted, coming to rest between Mike’s legs and pushing into him, heat and hardness replacing the slickness of the beads.

  “Oh. Yeah. Hard, Jess. Need all of it.”

  Jess just nodded, eyes dark with passion, hips working to fuck him hard, just like he’d asked, just like he wanted, needed. It overwhelmed him, entire body slamming and jerking, skin slapping together. Jess didn’t let up, not for one fucking second, hard cock driving into him, not giving him any quarter.

  He started pulling on the cuffs, wanting to touch his cock, bring himself off, make himself come. Jess growled, gazing down at him with blue eyes, burning into him. His legs were spread wider, his hips tilted, and suddenly Jess was hitting his gland with every thrust.

  “Oh, sweet fuck!” He wrapped his legs around Jess, forcing him deeper.

  Harder and harder, Jess pounded into him, sending him into the fucking sky. He almost missed it when strong fingers loosened the leather from around his cock, but he didn’t miss that growly voice.

  “Give it to me.”

  Mike screamed when he came, cock jerking, heat pouring over his belly.

  “Yeah. Fuck.” Jess moved faster, harder, pushing deeper and deeper, and then Jess froze and heat filled Mike inside.

  He panted, eyes rolling. Fucking sweet. Jess lay on him for a long moment, letting him feel his lover’s weight and strength, and then Jess slid out, rolled off, and undid his hands. His wrists were massaged, the blood flow eased by knowing fingers.

  He was never moving again. Twenty-nine thousand laps and two orgasms? He was just going to die.

  Jessy pulled him against the solid body, holding him close. “You good?”

  He thought about nodding, but that would mean moving, and he’d just given that up. “Uh-huh.”

  Jessy chuckled and kissed him. “Good.”

  Jessy pulled a light sheet over them, hands sliding on his skin in random movements.

  Mike hummed, dozing, happy and warm. Yep. Never moving again.


  Chapter Three

  MEETS WERE hard for Jessy.

  There wasn’t a whole lot he could do, except be there for Mike and remind the kid to let everything but the wall go, to just swim, but aside from that he was stuck with watching. Watching and waiting and just letting Mike do his thing.

  He leaned against the side of the stands in the coaches’ area, feigning a casualness he didn’t feel. It wouldn’t help Mike out any if he wasn’t calm whenever the kid looked over at him. He glanced at his watch—Mike’s final race should be called any minute. The last race before they went to an All-Americans meet that would see him playing in the big pool.

  Mike’s times were good, and if he kept it up, he was going to stand out with the leaders at the next meet. Jess worried a bit that Mike wasn’t ready yet for that kind of pressure, but he wasn’t going to hold the kid back, not with his abilities.

  Mike looked up, and Jessy shot the kid a confident grin and told himself to quit thinking so hard. One race at a time, and if he couldn’t take his own advice, he couldn’t put any conviction into dispensing it. He made his way over to where Mike was stretching out, listening to that crap the kid called music. He wrapped his hands around Mike’s shoulders, rubbing.

  “This is fast water, Coach. Gonna blow my PB away.”

  “You know what I have to say to that, Mike.”

  “Focus on the wall.”

  “That’s right.” He kept working Mike’s shoulders, just keeping them loose. “You go out there, and you get to the wall just as fast as you can. Everything else can wait until you hit that wall for the last time.”

  Mike nodded, shoulders rolling, head bobbing in time with the music.

  Mike’s race was called up, and he leaned in. “The wall, Mike. That’s all you need.” He swatted the kid’s ass and backed off, letting Mike do his thing.

  And do it Mike did, cutting into the water like a fucking dream and swimming like this race was his last. He was two-tenths of a second off world-record pace at one hundred yards, closing on one-tenth at one-fifty and looking to beat his personal best by almost a second.

  The kid was a coach’s fucking wet dream. Mike loved the water, loved swimming more than just about anything, and had talent coming out of his ass. It was a beautiful thing. He was cheering and roaring just as loud as anyone there, even the competition’s coaches taking notice of his boy.

  Mike reached for the wall, beating the Olympic record and tying the world record, finishing the race a body length ahead of his competition. “Yeah! Yeah!” Jessy pumped his arms in the air and accepted the congratulations of the other coaches.

  “That’s quite the fish you’ve got there, Jessy.”

  He nodded. “Don’t I know it.”

  He met Mike’s eyes and gave the kid two thumbs-up, let his pride show on his face. Fucking beautiful.

  It was perfect. Fucking perfect.

  If he hadn’t been watching, he’d never have seen the wince as Mike pulled himself from the pool. Frowning, he hurried over with Mike’s jacket. “Hey. Are you all right?”

  “Huh? Yeah. Kick-ass race, huh?” Mike shrugged his jacket on, grinning wide.

  He nodded. He’d check that shoulder later. It nibbled away at his own high, though, and he was watching Mike closely as the other swimmers came over to congratulate him. Mike was glowing, nodding, and taking the kudos gracefully.

  Hank Richards, the recruiting coach for UCLA’s team, came up, clapped Mike on the back. “Congratulations, kid. Helluva race.”

  “Thanks, Hank. It felt good.”

  “You thought any about my offer? About coming out west and seeing the beach?”

  “Nah. My coach says I should just focus on the wall, man.”

  Jessy hid his grin. That certainly was what he said, though it didn’t sound quite so hippieish coming out of his own mouth.

  Hank arched an eyebrow. “You know there’s more than one coaching style, yeah?”

  He had to bite his lip on that one. There were plenty of styles of coaching, and Hank’s was not one he’d recommend for Mike. He wouldn’t interfere unless Mike needed him, though.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Mike nodded and moved on, just blowing Hank right off.

  Oh, yeah, now that was way more satisfying than stepping in. Grinning, he nodded at Hank and followed Mike. Mike walked toward the dressing room, bouncing and laughing, visiting with everybody he knew. Jess headed for their lockers and took out Mike’s clothes, packing up the rest of their crap, enjoying the buzz. Everyone liked being in the water when it was that fast; even if you didn’t put in your own personal best, swimming with someone who hit Olympic time was special.

  “We sticking around or heading out, Coach?” Mike wasn’t one to stand around and rest on his laurels. It was always the next race.

  “Heading out; you need a massage—I don’t want those muscles tightening up.” And he wanted a look at that shoulder.

  “Yeah? Cool. What’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”

  “Pasta up in our room.” He stopped himself. Mike was hardly going to hurt his shoulder more by eating. “Or we could go out and celebrate your time.”

  Mike tilted his head, winked. “We could have pizza in our room and celebrate….”

  Jess grinned, the kid making him feel special too. “Yeah, we could do that.”

  Mike’s dark eyes just shone. “We beat the Olympic record, Jess. Fucking cool.”

  He nodded. “You did, kid. And at a meet where people were watching, looking for the big fish in the little pond. I’m proud of you.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Oh, yeah. There went the bouncing from his own little perpetual motion machine.

  He laughed, grabbed Mike’s towel, and packed it away. It felt fucking good, seeing all their hard work paying off, seeing Mike start to fulfill his incredible potential.

  “I want pepperoni and I want you and I want….” Mike swallowed. “Juice.”

  Oh, that almost deserved the Dr Pepper. Except it had been hell getting Mike off caffeine, and he wasn’t hooking the kid back on it this close to a big meet. “Sounds good, Mike.”

  Mike nodded. “I’m thirsty as hell.”

  He dug out a bottle of juice and handed it over. “You need anything else before we go?”

  “Nope. I’m good.” Mike drained the juice, humming happily.

  “You want to stick around to pick up your medals onstage, Mike?” No reason the kid couldn’t sit on his laurels for a couple hours.

  “Nah. By then the adrenaline’ll be faded and I’ll be bitchy.”

  “Oh, lucky me.”

  He gave Mike a wink. He knew how to deal with the bitchies. Knew how to get that adrenaline going again too.

  Mike chuckled, that left shoulder rolling. “Let’s go. There’s a pepperoni pizza waiting for me.”

  He nodded, keeping his hands to himself. No reason to tip off anyone that Mike was favoring the shoulder. But he was going to get to the bottom of the problem before the day was over.

  “After you, kid.”

  They headed out, the rental car waiting for them. People cheered Mike as they passed. It made him fucking proud.

  He grinned as he helped Mike into the car. “Enjoy it, kid—you don’t have to focus on the wall right now.”

  “No?” Mike stretched out, grinning ear to ear.

  Smiling, he slammed Mike’s door shut, then walked around to slide into the driver’s side. Mike found a loud, insane-making radio station and sang along at the top of his lungs. Jessy shook his head, but he let it ride. Mike deserved this, and he could put up with it for the ten minutes it would take to get them to their hotel.

  He stopped for the pizza on the way, getting Mike a large pepperoni with extra cheese and an all-dressed for himself.

  “Mmm… that smells great….” Mike stole a bite before they got out of the car. “Yummy.”

  “Brat.” He stole a taste from Mike’s mouth, licking those sweet lips.

  Mike’s eyes lit up. “Yours.”

&
nbsp; “Yeah.” He licked again and then grabbed the pizza boxes. “Come on, kid. Let’s get upstairs before you start stiffening up.”

  “You just want to eat the pizza while it’s hot.” Mike headed for the elevators.

  “You know it.” Damn, the view from behind Mike just got better and better.

  They headed up to the sixth floor, Mike bouncing and humming the whole way. He wanted to push the kid up against the elevator wall and fuck him blind. Thank God he was carrying the pizzas.

  Mike looked at him, licked his lips. “Want you.”

  He nodded. “I know.” There was a growl in his voice. He fucking wanted.

  “Do you?” The elevator dinged, and Mike was out like a shot, heading for the room.

  Did he? Fuck, yes, he did.

  Too bad he had a swimmer to take care of first.

  MIKE ATE his fourth piece of pizza, lying on the floor, full as a tick.

  Damn, it had been a good day.

  Damned good.

  Almost perfect.

  If he’d broken the world record? Then it would have been perfect.

  Mike grinned, stretched. “When’s the next meet?”

  “Ten days. All-Americans. You ready to focus on that wall?”

  “Yeah.” Ten days. He could do that. He could push through, train through. “Then we’ve got a good-sized lag, yeah?”

  Jess rumbled. “Since when are you anxious for a lag?”

  “I….” He shrugged, rolled over so Jess couldn’t see his face. “Man, I haven’t had regular sex in months.”

  Jess snorted. “Do I need to cut you off that too?”

  “Not a chance. I’ll do an extra set a day in the pool first.”

  Jess chuckled. “I’m kind of loath to put an end to that myself. Come on, strip down. You need a massage.”

  “Oh. Love your hands.” He stood up, pulled his shirt off, glad that the T-shirt hid his face. God, it hurt. Fucking shoulder. He’d almost said something two weeks ago, but…. Hell, just a couple more races.

  Just one now.

  Jess got out the oil and pulled down the sheets. “Hop to it, hotshot.”

  Mike wiggled out of his pants and popped onto the bed, stretching on his belly.