I don’t know what sexual appeal he was finding in me—plain as I was, with no experience, no technique that experience brings, not even any inborn allure—but....
He glanced down and muttered.
"What do I do? Today... I already can’t hold back."
To prove the words weren’t a lie, the front of his pants was already bulging.
It sounds a little crude to say it, but... even on ordinary days his penis was often noticeable. When he twisted his body into a certain posture, when he changed the direction of his crossed legs, when he stuck both hands in his pockets. Honestly, it asserted itself so much it was hard to pretend not to see. Ever since we’d slept together, every time that happened I had to force it out of my field of vision.
Now that cock of his was jutting so prominently it looked confined and tight, pushing his zipper taut. Sensing my stare fixed on it, he kissed my forehead and laughed softly.
His hot mouth moved from my forehead to my eyelid, to my temple. Pressing his lips to my ear, he whispered,
"You really do love my stuff."
"Uh...."
I wanted to deny it, but I wanted to stop shoving all the work of heightening the mood onto him and pretending I wasn’t part of it.
I had been looking at his cock, and I had, yes, expected that thrilling, sticky something to come, stirred by the way the volume stood out so unnaturally it looked like something had been stuffed in there. So let’s stop denying it out of embarrassment.
He deliberately ground in harder and shoved his thigh deeper. The slow side to side roll of his hips was unbearably dirty.
"Hh, ngh."
With his hips moving so that the two mounds—my cock swelling inside my jeans and his that looked ready to burst through his zipper—barely grazed each other, I was burning up.
I bit my lower lip to hold back the moan already pressing thick to spill out, and his lips came right away, stealing the lip I’d bitten. The way he sucked hard enough to make it throb was one of the caresses I liked.
Savoring the sweetness of the pain as it spread, I tightened my arms around his shoulders. Pushing at the marble floor with my toes... I couldn’t help it; I rubbed mine against his, meeting him.
"Mmm...."
He sucked harder at my lips and slid his hand under my T shirt to stroke my back. His hand trailed upward, gently skimming my skin, then on the way down forced into my jeans. Since I was almost perched on his thigh, his hand pinched the flesh of my butt that had bulged up, then fumbled down, pressing between the cleft.
"Hhh. Hhng."
I turned my head to pull my lips free and shook it no. Just the fact that he was approaching the hole he could enter was turning me on so much that I was... bouncing my hips on his thigh by myself. The second I realized what I was doing I was mortified enough to die, but I couldn’t control it.
My head shaking no and my hips rocking yes were both parts of my body, and yet they were expressing completely different wills.
He rubbed my skin hard with the middle finger he’d slid into the cleft and pulled me in with one arm around my back. I set my chin on his shoulder and, fully pressed to him, rubbed my body all I wanted.
Shoulders, chest, belly, thighs. Every place on his body was made of well trained muscle, and every time I rubbed myself against him, the pronounced contours and volume excited me. Knotted, dense, solid enough you’d think even a punch wouldn’t budge it—I felt it to my heart’s content with both hands and my whole body.
Because the thigh propping me between the legs and springing me up, and the finger moving in the cleft, kept making me think of penetration, my hips twisted of their own accord. I couldn’t suppress the thirst that wanted him naked.
Pressing my lips to his neck and rubbing softly, I gathered every shred of courage and confessed.
"I can’t... hold back either."
Only after the heat of the petting had thoroughly churned my head did I, unlike the way I’d been so far—only becoming honest at last under his prodding and coaxing—surrender faster and on my own.
"..."
He went still without a word, then, as he drew his hand out of my jeans, he caught the hem of my T shirt and lifted it up. I raised my arms, still half hugging him, and in an instant the T shirt came off. Tossing it carelessly onto the console where a slim, modern TV sat, he wrapped his arms under my thighs and lifted me.
"Uhp."
Instinctively, so I wouldn’t slip, I locked my arms around his neck. My body was up high, looking down at his face from above. I was a little less than a half hand shorter than him, but objectively I was by no means small or petite. He hoisted me without even using momentum, and as he carried me across the bed he bounced me up twice as if weighing me.
"I knew you were thin but... are you sure you’re not hollow inside?"
He shook his head like this really wasn’t okay, his face grave.
"You’re tall at least. Do you eat one meal a day?"
Muttering that he might have to lock me up until I put on some weight, he sounded like he was talking to himself, and a witch in a gingerbread house from a fairy tale I’d read as a kid popped into my head and a laugh slipped out.
"You think I’m joking."
Still holding me, he fell onto the mattress, and leaning over me, he cupped both my cheeks in one hand and kneaded. The push from both sides made my lips pucker and release over and over so I must have looked like a carp; I quietly tugged his wrist down, and this time he gave a short laugh.
Then he straightened his back, shrugged off his jacket first, and, gathering my legs together, pushed them toward his left side and bent down to kiss me. My lower body was turned to the side while my upper body faced forward, but it wasn’t that uncomfortable.
Feeling his arm burrow behind my neck and pull my shoulder in, I wrapped my arms around his neck too. With his other hand he undid my belt buckle from below and pulled down the zipper.
"Mmm... hh...."
The second the zipper opened, his hand plunged in and kneaded my cock through my briefs with a strong grip, and I tightened my arms around him. Maybe my reaction lit him up too; the movement of his tongue, which had been stirring through my mouth, grew fiercer.
The big hand that had gone deep behind my cock and rubbed wide between my legs crooked a finger and scratched my anal opening through my underwear. At the dirty, teasing touch that both stimulated and flicked at me, I could only groan, my hips turned, and keep adjusting my hold around his neck.
His hand, which had rubbed broadly like he was skimming my perineum, slid out, and from behind he yanked down my jeans and briefs at once. Since my lower body was twisted to the side, the bottoms came off easily. My jeans, inside out, slipped heavy with my underwear and thumped to the floor beside the bed.
When I noticed, I was already naked.
It was raining, so it was dimmer than usual, but it was still midday. The place might be his property, but it wasn’t the house he lived in; it was empty. It wasn’t a setting I had ever imagined as the place we would join bodies again. The unexpectedness of the time and place tensed my body in a different way than before.
Before I could dig any deeper into that thought, he was already undoing his own belt buckle. His posture bent over me, continuing the kiss, while below he unfastened his belt for real sex—that alone made me swallow.
He pressed his lips deep to mine, then lifted them with a wet pull, and rubbing circles over the shoulder he was holding, he whispered,
"Will you take off my shirt?"
His shirt was unbuttoned to the ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) second button; when I reached and began undoing them one by one, the motion was clumsy. I’d never undressed someone else before.
Even as I fumbled, both hands awkward, he alternated kisses across my forehead, the bridge of my nose, my cheeks, my lips—and by then he had his pants off and was down to his underwear.
Looking down, I saw the shape of his erection vivid under black briefs. The head, swollen so taut it looked like it would rip the cotton, was already soaked darker.
"Thank you."
When the last button came free, he brushed my hair back with the hand that had been around my shoulder and kissed my forehead. Being thanked for nothing more than unbuttoning his shirt made me think stupidly that maybe I should have said thank you every time he lifted me or tugged off my clothes earlier. If I did that, I’d obviously only kill the mood.
Pulling his upper body away from me and sitting up straight, he set my naked legs astride his waist to either side. His torso entering between my spread thighs summoned the image of the tight contact and coupling that would happen at the most intimate place. My cheeks went hot.
Mmmm....
He kept his mouth shut and controlled his breathing through his nose, sweeping back the hair that had fallen over his forehead. He rotated his hips flexibly, rubbing the front of his briefs between my thighs.
Under the wet cotton, the bulge pressed my perineum with a teasing strangeness, and I felt like I was getting wet between my legs too. Without touching my body at all, he kept his lower body pressed there and just moved his hips, bringing cock and perineum into contact.
Through the gap of his open shirt, his torso showed, thick and firm with sharp lines etched into split abs, but the way his waist circled, rubbing his cock exactly where he wanted it, was unbelievably supple for that thickness.
"Hh, h. Hng."
Every time his hips pushed in and ground the swollen flesh below, a moan got away from me. Focused solely on the act that evoked coupling, he was so sexy... my glutes tightened and that place squeezed on its own. I couldn’t believe how my body reacted, but that was the pleasure of sex I had learned from him, known through him.
"Try squeezing your thighs."
He told me to do it, but as he spoke his hands were already folding my legs up and gathering them toward my chest. He traced slowly with a finger from the balls, which peeked out round, to the anal, nestled between the pressed together thighs.
"You’re this skinny, and yet your butt and here are pretty plump, you know that."
Dirtily—half glaring with his eyes narrowed and that sly smile, the expression itself was even dirtier.
Kneeling over me to shift his position, he pulled his cock out from his briefs. Freed from the cramped underwear, it sprang up out of the band with a snap. Precum from the sharply defined glans slicked the whole dark red shaft. Under the shadow thrown by his body, the gleam of his sex, wet with fluid, was so imposing I clapped a hand over my mouth without thinking.
"I’m going to... rub it here."
Holding my thighs firm from both sides so they couldn’t spread even a little, he pressed the living, twitching shaft into the narrow channel between my squeezed thighs.
"Ah! Hh... ngh."
The sensation of the inside of my soft thighs scraping against his hot, fluttering wet shaft was uncanny. Even though it wasn’t pushing in, ripping through a clinging mucosa like the anal, it felt like something forcing through flesh.
His cock, which had jabbed my flipped up balls on the way in, met my cock head on. His heavy sac thumped against the cleft of my raised butt, and the next moment that thick heat slid out between my thighs and then plunged back in again.
His penis, drenched with precum, slid between my thighs without a hitch. A friction sound like the noise of coupling in a soaked anal seeped through the room like the patter of rain on wet ground.
Because it wasn’t inside the anal, wrapped in tender mucosa, he didn’t hold back his pace. Each time he drove fast, pressing down from above, the feel of two cocks rubbing directly made me bite my lip.
The rebound of his balls striking around my anal every time his shaft stabbed in was just as hard to endure. Thock, thock, thock, thock thock... even just the sensation of that springy weight hitting the cleft conjured the image of his sac rocking front to back and then being crushed, smeared flat between him and me.
Only the place was different; the weight pressing from above, the resultant shaking, the tickle low in my belly, the fingers and toes twitching... nothing was much different from when he penetrated. If anything, the girth, heat, and slickness of his penis skimming flesh were clearer between my thighs.
A lot of precum, flowing down his cock, ran onto my cock and pubes, and back over his balls and groin to the top of my anal; even the path of the fluid trickling down felt distinct on my skin, my body that sensitive.
Not even my cock, not even my anal—just moving between my thighs, and he already had me right to the brink of coming.
Panting like my breath would break, I groped and grabbed his hands, which were pressing my thighs from both sides.
"Hahh, hh... ngh...."
My wet, pleading gaze found his eyes. I didn’t even know if I was begging him to stop or begging him to push me harder; I was just leaving the judgment to him.
Keeping his head angled down and only lifting his eyes to look at me, he wore the faintest smile on a face beginning to bead with sweat.
"What if... while doing it like this... we slip and I accidentally go in?"
Tilting his head, he pulled his cock back and peered closely at my perineum.
"Uh... you’re already really wet... that’s dangerous, you know?"
"...Hht!"
At the sudden touch headed for my anal, my head snapped back. I twisted my grip and squeezed his hand tight, grinding the back of my head on the bare mattress.
The way he pressed around the entrance, firmly, like he was only assessing the state, stripped of sexual nuance, and for some reason I couldn’t understand, that only stoked my shame more. Not the shame of wanting to bolt from the spot, like I was the only one sexually immersed in the moment.
Because I knew that, teasing the wet rim of my anal like that, there was no way he wasn’t aroused.
All he was doing, even in the face of my moans and the way I worried my lips, was feigning that he wasn’t turned on at all, breaking the balance of arousal between us and maximizing the tension.
Smearing his hand, loaded with fluid, broadly over my anal on purpose, he knit his brows. Then he tugged my hand, which was clutching his, down.
"Look at this. It’s completely soaked, isn’t it? Do you know how much you’ve leaked...."
