“Too much?” Gil asked, muscles stiffening as he prepared to lift away.
“No.” Michael tightened his arms around Gil’s neck and he gingerly relaxed. “I like it.”
“You can breathe okay?”
“For fuck’s sakes, Gilbert. What kind of whiny bitches have you dated?”
Gil looked startled, then laughed, and Michael felt Gil’s stomach muscles flex against him with each chuckle. “Very whiny ones, apparently.” He slid his arms between Michael and the bedding and rolled, and Michael found himself sprawled over the big body. Gil ran his hands down the curve of Michael’s spine, and he stretched like a cat, rubbing his hard cock into the warm space between Gil’s groin and thigh. Gil moaned softly, filling his hands with Michael’s ass. Gil rolled his hips up, massaging the round globes he held, and the heavy heat and pull of skin on skin against Michael’s cock made him shudder. He opened his mouth on Gil’s throat, teeth scoring the bronzed skin.
“Ah, he bites.” Gil laughed breathlessly, and Michael nipped a little harder. In retaliation, Gil’s hands moved to Michael’s sides, and he tickled him. Michael scrambled up, batting at his hands, until he was sitting astride Gil’s hips. He spread his hand between Gil’s pecs, noticing how small it looked against all Gil’s bulk. He grabbed a couple of chest hairs and yanked.
“Ouch!”
“Tickling will not get you laid.”
Gil rubbed the spot. “Pulling out chest hair won’t help you get laid either.”
Michael smiled down at him, slowly leaning forward to press a kiss to Gil’s chest. “Oh, I’m not worried about getting you—interested again.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.” Michael shifted back, pausing at Gil’s knees, then curled his long fingers around Gil’s heavy cock. He lifted it, moving his fingers over the velvety skin and the patchwork of swollen veins. “This is pretty amazing, Gilbert.” He slid his hand up toward the tip, moving the skin over the hardened core. As he slid his hand back to the base, it grew firmer in his grip. He leaned forward, giving Gil a teasing smile as he patted his cheek with the swollen tip.
“You planning to play around down there all night?”
Michael’s smile widened; then he stuck out his tongue, licking the fat head. “You think I’m teasing?”
Gil reached down, running his fingers through Michael’s thick hair. “God, I hope not.” He closed his fist around dark strands, trying to ease Michael’s head lower.
“Ah ah ah.” Michael grabbed several tufts of wiry, curly pubic hair, pulling them taut but not hard enough to hurt. “I do this at my speed, Gilbert.”
Gil quickly released Michael’s hair, spreading his hands. “Whatever you say.”
Michael released the pubes, patting Gil’s thigh. “He can be taught. Now….” He turned his head one way and then the other, studying the cock in his hand. He held it gently, licked from base to tip, then curled his lips around the head and hummed. He smiled around his mouthful when he felt the muscles in Gil’s thighs tighten. He swirled the tip of his tongue over the slit and tasted a burst of salty bitterness. Michael pulled back, licking his lips. “Yum.”
Michael saw Gil’s hands curl in the bedding instead of reaching for his hair, and he smiled, deciding he’d teased him enough. It wasn’t false modesty to say he gave a killer blow job, but he wasn’t sure even he could get all that cock past his gag reflex. Curling his fingers around the thick base, he lowered his head and opened his mouth to begin taking him slowly in.
“Oh God yeah,” Gil groaned. Michael pulled off just as slowly, tongue pressing along the underside, swirling around the glans until he popped off.
“If you promise not to pull my hair, I’ll see how deep I can take this.”
Gil lifted his hands, then stacked them behind his head with a grin. “I’ll be good.”
“Then so will I.”
“Oh, isn’t he cute?”
Michael met his eyes as he curled his palm around the base, noticing his fingers were nowhere near touching. He’d had lots of dicks in his mouth, but he didn’t think there had ever been one this size. It was a challenge he welcomed. Making sure to cover his teeth with his lips, he lowered his mouth onto Gil, keeping the ring of his mouth taut, savoring the salty, musky taste of his skin with his tongue. His lips felt the rush into the veins that filled the thick cock, the blood that made it thicker, harder. Michael loosened his jaw and relaxed his throat, swirling his tongue as long as he could until his mouth was just too full. He breathed carefully through his nose until his lips connected with his hand and the tip of Gil’s cock brushed the back of his throat. Once there he pulled back, using his mouth and his lips and tongue to slowly drive Gil insane.
Gil’s stomach muscles were shuddering within minutes, and his legs were tense. Michael pushed them apart, reaching past the base to grip the large, heavy sac of testicles in his hand. He fondled them gently, tugging slightly as he lowered his mouth down Gil’s length again. He was able to go farther this time without gagging, to get more of the amazing prick down his throat, so much so he could swallow, moving the walls of his throat to caress the sensitive head. Gil gasped and a hand landed on the back of Michael’s head, but he didn’t grab hair or try to force his head down farther. He just touched Michael’s hair, running his fingers through it while his back arched, his hips moving restlessly. Michael pulled off.
“There’s lube in the nightstand, if you’ll get it for me.”
Gil groaned. Michael continued to move his hand as Gil rolled to his side and yanked open the drawer, rummaging without being able to see what he was searching for. He grunted in satisfaction as his hand closed around the tube.
“Damn.” He studied the bottle in his hand for a moment. “Jackson pops for the expensive stuff.”
“Pretty sure David insists on it.” Michael held out his hand.
“Did he plan to get laid this weekend? I’d have thought he’d take it with him.”
“And I’m pretty sure he buys it by the case.” Michael made a gimme motion with his hand and Gil handed it to him. Michael flicked the top open with his thumb and sat astride Gil’s thighs, squirting some lube onto his fingers and palm. He closed the bottle and dropped it on the bed, then leaned down and took Gil’s thick cock into his mouth again. When he reached behind himself, Michael watched Gil’s avid expression as he slid two fingers into his own ass, working to stretch the tight ring of muscle.
“Want me to turn around so you can watch?” Michael asked with a teasing smile. Gil nodded. Michael turned around, dipping his head over Gil’s groin, then eased long fingers into himself. He heard Gil’s breath shorten, felt his cock thicken in his mouth as he pulled out the two fingers and worked three slowly inside.
It was dirty and perhaps one of the sluttiest things he’d ever done. It was also liberating and thrilling when Gil rubbed up the back of his thigh, then caressed one asscheek almost reverently.
“You’re so beautiful, Michael,” he murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”
In response to the praise, Michael pushed his fingers in to the base, lowering his mouth to Gil, making a temporary detour to pull one of the hefty balls into his mouth. He rolled it around, sucking on it for a few minutes. By the time Michael went back to his cock, Gil’s legs were moving restlessly on the soft duvet and Michael had swallowed a healthy dose of precome.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Gil gasped. “You know that, right?”
“I’m hoping.” Michael grinned at him over his shoulder before taking his cock back in. This time Michael made it until his nose touched the tip of curly pubes, and he breathed in slowly through his nose, allowing his mouth to go sloppy about the big dick. He tightened his lips again as he pulled up, nearly letting the thick meat fall from his mouth, then going down again. Up and down, slowly at first, then faster. Saliva dripped down Gil’s cock and Michael used his hand in conjunction with his mouth, sliding up and down the hardened flesh. Gil pulled Michael’s hand from his ass
and slid in one of his thick fingers, then a second as he curled them and pressed against Michael’s gland. Michael came off Gil’s dick, gasping.
“Like that, do you?” Gil teased. He sounded as breathless as Michael felt. Michael went back down on him, sucking hard and swirling his tongue around Gil’s tip. Another rush of precome filled his mouth.
“Michael,” Gil warned, sounding breathless.
“Hmm?” Michael didn’t even slow down, moaning when Gil moved his fingers inside him.
“Michael,” Gil repeated, sounding more intent. “I’m close, baby,” he said. “Real close. You’d better….”
Michael pulled off and eased around to face Gil.
“Condom, Gilbert.” Even Michael could acknowledge that he sounded breathless. He felt breathless. Gil had never closed the drawer, and his hand went back in. He came up with a condom faster than he had the lube. He handed it to Michael.
“Extra-large,” Michael mused with a saucy grin, tearing open the foil wrapper with his teeth. “I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking for Jackson, but for you, it’s dead-on.” He scooted back on Gil’s thighs, slipped the rolled latex over the tip of Gil’s cock, then lowered his head to roll it down his length with his lips.
“Oh Jesus,” Gil moaned. “He’s multitalented.”
Michael came back up with a smile. “Oh, baby. We’re just getting started.”
He rose up onto his knees, scooting forward, and reached behind himself to grab Gil’s dick. He held it upright, slid the tip behind his balls to his hole, then slowly breached himself as he lowered a fraction of an inch at a time.
It wasn’t easy. By the time he was halfway he was panting, sweat standing out on his forehead and slipping beneath his glasses.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Gil murmured, his hands sliding up Michael’s thighs, finding the caps of muscle above his hip bones with his thumbs. “So fucking gorgeous, Michael. You feel so good, baby. So tight, so hot.”
It might have been hokey, or so Michael thought, but the words whispered with such obvious adoration made all the difference. Michael’s muscles relaxed and he slid down, his ass coming to rest on Gil’s groin.
“God, Michael,” Gil groaned, his hips lifting slightly. Michael thought if he moved much more, he’d be able to feel him in the back of his throat.
“My pace, Gilbert,” he warned. “This isn’t a Vienna sausage you’ve got here. Go too fast, and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
Gil made an obvious effort to lie still, his hands curling in the duvet. “You take it, babe. I’ll just lie here.”
“That’s my big, strong housepainter,” Michael teased. He moved gingerly up, then down, angling his hips and hissing when each movement dragged the thick prick inside him over his prostate. He began to move faster, pushing up, letting gravity bring him back down. Gil filled a trembling hand with lube, then curled his hand around Michael’s cock. His erection had flagged; taking a prick the size of Gil’s wasn’t easy, and the concentration necessary to relax key muscles, to find the right angle, took its toll. But Gil brought him back to life with the slick, firm grip of his hand, and within minutes Michael was pushing down onto Gil’s cock, then thrusting forward into the tight hold.
“That’s it, baby.” Gil’s other hand moved up to touch Michael’s torso, hands sliding from Michael’s pubic bone to his pecs. Gil gripped a hard nipple, and Michael gasped when a jolt of pleasure shot from his chest to his ass.
“That.” Michael threw his head back. “That.”
“This?” Gil gripped the firm nub and twisted, and the resulting rush of sensation was almost too much. Michael cried out, pulsing into Gil’s hand and onto his chest, his sphincter clamping down so tight he could scarcely move.
“Oh Christ.” Michael hovered on the most exquisite edge of pleasure and pain, and he shuddered. His body convulsed before everything tight within him let go and he collapsed onto Gil’s chest.
Gil wrapped his arms around him. “Are you okay?” he whispered against Michael’s ear.
Michael couldn’t muster the muscles required to nod. “Yeah, I’m—no, I’m dead.”
Gil laughed, and Michael realized he was still hard inside of him.
“You didn’t come,” he moaned, finally able to command his hand to move. He ran it over Gil’s shoulder, then down to his forearm. “I’ll….”
“I’ll get there. Just tell me when you’re okay.”
“Mind… blown,” Michael muttered. Gil’s hands moved over his back, his shoulders, over his hair.
“You’re so amazing,” Gil whispered. “So fucking amazing, sweetheart.”
“Amazing fucking, anyway.” Michael forced himself to swallow. “I think my brain is back.”
“Are you loose enough?”
“I’m not sure there’s any such thing as loose enough with you, Gilbert, but I’m not as tight as I was.”
Gil angled his hips up, lifting Michael, pressing his dick farther inside of him. Michael whimpered when Gil’s cock moved against his prostate. “Jesus God.”
“Jesus God good? Or Jesus God bad?”
“Jesus God, was your dad an elephant?”
Gil let loose some startled laughter, then grabbed Michael around his waist and rolled them over. Michael made a shocked gurgling noise when Gil grabbed his legs and pushed them up to his chest. Gil went still.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Michael answered. “It’s just—intense.”
“Intense isn’t bad.” Gil gave a shallow thrust and Michael caught his breath, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Too much?”
“Just—stop talking, Gilbert,” Michael managed, his hands digging into Gil’s biceps.
“I can do that.”
Gil began to move again, his thrusts shallow, and Michael whimpered. His body was so hypersensitized, his ass so stretched, his prostate vibrating almost constantly. He’d have thought it impossible, but he was hard again, and each of Gil’s thrusts sent a jolt up his spine. Shocking him, because it had never happened to him before, a slow-rolling second orgasm rocked him. He didn’t come much, but he came hard, his head back and his mouth falling open on a silent cry. Moments later Gil stiffened, his muscles going rigid. When Gil slowly collapsed on top of Michael, he encircled the big body with his arms and held him, so swamped with tenderness that for a moment he thought he might weep from pure joy.
Gil turned his head, his stubble-covered jaw coming to rest against Michael’s cheek. “You’re incredible.”
Michael snorted, pushing the softer feelings down. “You just came, so everything seems dandy to you.”
“Oh, shut up and take a compliment, you brat.”
Startled by the description, Michael laughed.
Gil kissed his cheek. “You have the best laugh, Michael. I just wish I heard it more.”
“Keep calling me creative names, then. I haven’t been a ‘brat’ since I was thirteen.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Gil pushed up onto his hands. “I’m going to pull out, okay?”
Michael tried to stay relaxed. It wasn’t easy, but it didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought it might. He lay limp-muscled on the bed, unwilling to move. He heard Gil get up and pad barefooted down the hall; then the light went on in the bathroom. Water ran, and he heard Gil talking to Scooter.
“Hey, princess. You want a treat, huh?”
Gil went to the kitchen and Michael was dozing by the time he returned. Gil washed off his belly with a warm, damp cloth and Michael made a sound of contentment deep in his throat. A few moments later Gil climbed onto the bed with him, pulling a blanket up over Michael’s shoulder.
Michael instinctively cuddled into the broad, warm chest, tucking his head under Gil’s chin, nearly whimpering again in pure delight at the feeling of his big, hard body. Gil tenderly cradled the back of Michael’s head in his palm.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said against Michael’s ear. “I’ll keep you safe.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SAFETY AND sweet heat surrounded him, and Michael pressed deeper into the sensation, fighting the distant knowledge he had to wake up at some point. It wasn’t until the third time he floated to the surface that he thought to question the big arms around him, or more urgently, the large, semierect cock pressed into the crease of his ass. Michael remembered who it was attached to, and he was abruptly wide-awake. He stiffened.
“Oh, don’t do that.”
Michael turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder. Gil’s face was right there, so close he could kiss him if he wanted. And he wanted to, for just a second. It took every bit of self-control he had not to.
“What time is it?” Michael noticed the room had started to lighten, a soft morning glow coming in around the blinds.
“Just after six. The guys will be here in about forty-five minutes.”
“I need to get up.” Michael tried to pull away again, but Gil didn’t release him. “Gilbert, let me go.”
“Not yet.” Gil nuzzled the back of his neck. Every muscle in Michael’s body was tight, fighting against the desire to melt back into Gil’s wide body and his soft, warm mouth. “Ah, Michael. You’re not going to turn all weird on me now, are you?”
“What do you mean, weird?” His lips felt stiff and his voice sounded tight.
“Weird, like, I’ve held a lovely, warm snuggle bunny all night—”
Michael made an affronted sound. “‘Snuggle bunny’? What the fuck—”
“—and now you’re stiff as a board and I can feel the heat leaching out of you. So, talk to me, Michael.”
Michael rolled to his side, palms flat against Gil’s chest and more than ready to push away. This time, reluctantly, Gil let him go. He gave Gil an exasperated look.
“Snuggle bunny?” His voice dripped disdain, and Gil smiled.
“Hey, if the bunny slippers fit, baby.” He spread his palms.
Michael, Reinvented Page 12
