BRIAN'S POV

Tonight you're mine completely

“I need you to hop down from there for a minute.” His eyes are bloodshot. He loves this bathroom counter.

“Why?” He’s flicking his ashes in the sink. This is a non-smoking suite. “I’m not putting this cigarette out.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Hop down for a minute.” He's figured out how to dim the lights in here. I didn’t even know you could do that.

“Why?”

“Because I need to check your panties.” He slaps my hand when I reach for his pants, but at least he’s laughing now. And smiling. Finally, a smile.

“What the fuck? Cut that out.” Don’t wipe your nose on the sleeve of that jacket. That’s an eight hundred dollar Kleenex.

“I’m pretty sure the condom’s in the elevator…….or your ass. I’m hoping for the latter.” He’s not going to budge. He’s been sitting on this counter, leaning against the mirror, one knee up, one knee down, smoking and crying for ten minutes. God, he’s pretty. Ah, laughing and crying at the same time now. Even prettier.

“I told you I didn’t want any more surprises.” I’m taking off his shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off your shoes. If I swear on every single bible in this hotel right now that I completely forgot about it, will you believe me? Because I swear to you, I forgot.” And his socks, might as well. “This is why I don’t do romance. I’m not very good at it.” Zero for two now if you want to get technical about it. “I’m much better at seduction.”

The cigarette’s in the sink now. He’s looking at me with red-blue eyes. “Well, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Guess we know what mine is.” He looks up at me as I stand between his legs, my arms around him again, finally.

“Too much red wine?” He laughs at me as he drains the vodka tonic I made for him, sitting the glass back down on the counter beside him.

“Yeah.” It comes out softly, quietly. “Thanks for putting it away, Brian. I love it, just not tonight.” He slides his right hand around my neck, still cold from being around the glass, and pulls me down a little. His kiss tastes like everything.

There’s only one closet in this suite that I could get his brand new luggage to fit in. I guess the staff put it in here while we were having dinner. I completely forgot about it. It was being monogrammed. It’s just like mine, only a few years newer. There’s no way in hell he was going to his father’s house to get his luggage. If I‘d kept it dark in here, hadn’t wanted to see his face while I was kissing it, he might never have seen it. If the windows in this suite opened, I’d throw it out in the fucking street right now.

The kiss has ended.

“This vodka tonic you made me is for shit.” He’s right. I smile at him.

“Yeah, I watered it down. You’ve had enough to drink.” He drains it and sits it down, the ice remains. “I’d prefer to have you awake during the seduction.” He watches my face as I start taking off his jacket. “You have no idea how fucking hot you looked tonight, how beautiful you looked. And it wasn’t the clothes, it was you.” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. That’s okay. I’ve got all night to convince him.

“I’m a mess. I haven’t cried that hard since Vic died………..or since I found out you had--” He shakes his head, regretting his words. “Shit.” I watch him turn, surveying his blotched face in the mirror.

“I think you look very pretty when you cry.” He busts out laughing at me.

“Would you shut up?”

“No. I will not shut up. Stop looking at yourself in the mirror. Turn around.” I pull him off the counter and distract him with random conversation. “Time to get undressed, Cinderella.” I undo his belt, unbutton, and unzip his pants.

“Before my beautiful clothes turn into peasant-ware?”

“Something like that. This is my kingdom after all. No pants in my kingdom.” He steps out of his pants and his underwear.

“You’re wearing pants.”

“That’s what I want you to think. Emperor’s New Clothes and all.” He moves to unbutton his shirt. I shake my head. “That stays on. Waist down only. Formal edict from the royal palace.” He laughs a little, smiles a lot. “Have a seat.” I motion for him to get back on the counter. He jumps back up.

“It’s cold.” I know. I lift his shirt as he wraps his legs around me, peeking at what I’ve been dying to see. His gorgeous ass splayed on this counter, mostly hidden by this crisp white shirt. Fuck, I’m hard. I run my hand down the small of his back and over as much of his ass as I can get to.

“That's so goddamn beautiful.” He turns to look over his shoulder and watches me watching him in the mirror, gives me that devilish grin. God. I break the stare and bring my face back to his, my arms around him again. “So aside from the last twenty minutes, did you have a good time today?” I can feel him relax in my arms.

“Yeah, it was so much fun. Thank you…for all of this. I’ve never felt so spoiled or so special. This was probably the best day, best night of my life.” His face lights up with a bright smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he said that, that I didn’t protect him then. I close my eyes for a minute and rest my face in his hair. “But, Brian, you don’t have to spend between five and ten thousand dollars just to get me to go out with you.”

Very funny. “I know that.” He’s looking at me now, a flirty smile on his face. Some grin on mine that he recognizes.

“No, you don’t.” Okay, no, I don’t. I’m distracting myself, running my fingers up and down the necktie hanging loosely around his neck, inside his collar. He pulls it from my fingers.

“This is actually one of yours.” At least tonight I kept him safe.

“You can have it. It looks better on you.” Feels better on you. Practically kept him hidden away.

“I’ll wear it when we have phone sex. Would you like that?” That just became an amendment to the constitution.

“I’ll get you three or four extra ones.” Tomorrow. He laughs, picking up his drink and sucking ice into his mouth. He’s been chewing a lot of ice lately.

“You don haffa keep buying me things.” He swallows. “But you can if you want.” I knew that was coming. His smug little smile. Saw that coming, too.

“I’m just making sure that my revolving line of credit at the 'Bank of Your Sweet Little Ass' stays open.” Permanently. He puts down his drink, studying me.

“Really? Open and exclusive?” I should think before I speak. I’m no good at this. Not prepared. My face looks way too serious when I answer him.

“Preferably.” I can see the wheels turning in his head, see the ones in mine grinding to a halt. I contemplate going into the outer room and making two very strong vodka tonics, but I don’t. I don’t walk away.

“It’s okay with me. If that’s what you want.” That was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. “But I want you to tell me what you want.” Spoke to soon. “And why.” Shit. He can tell by looking at me that I would rather wear khakis from The Gap than have this conversation, but he doesn’t care.

“What was the question again?” Seriously, I can’t remember. Have the court reporter read from the transcript. He looks like he feels sorry for me. Like I fucking want that.

His hand's under my chin. “Brian, quit looking in the mirror and look at me. It’s no big deal.” No big deal. He’s had years to figure this out. It just hit me this afternoon. “Listen to me. There’s nothing we haven’t done together. Nothing you’re gonna say to me is going to freak me out. So whatever it is, just say it.”

Fuck. My thoughts roll around in my head. He waits patiently, toying with his shirt. I can hear the elevator in the hallway, just like at the loft. “Something you said today upset me.” I feel like I should get a prize or something. It was really hard for me to say that. He looks confused.

“I never saw you look upset today. What did I say?” His face is concerned, wondering. “Was it that thing about my father? That you sound like my father? Because I didn’t mean—"

“No.” I shake my head. “No. It was when you walked into the room when the guys got here and made that comment that everyone has seen you undressed in the backroom a million times.” He’s doing that thing he does with his mouth when he’s concentrating, drawing.

“Well, it’s true.” I know. He waits. He’s really good at waiting. “Go on.” He won’t let me off the hook here. Fuck it. No apologies, no regrets, right? What asshole came up with that bullshit?

“The look on your face when you said that made me feel like shit.” I look down, forgetting for a moment that he doesn’t have any pants on, which is kind of ironic to me because that is sort of the point of what I’m trying to say. I end up staring at the small triangle of countertop I can see between his legs.

“Brian? I made you feel like shit?” I’m not making any sense. I’m upsetting him. His whole day will go straight to hell.

I look back at him again, his blue eyes waiting for me. He has mastered the art of patient persistence. “It made me feel like you didn’t expect anything from me anymore, or that you never have, anything other than disappointment.” His eyes narrow, his hands resting on my upper arms. “That fucking in the backroom or anywhere else is just the order of the day because that’s all I want, all I have to give you.” He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. “It felt--you looked like you didn’t know—don’t know—that I love you. That you don’t think I’m capable of it.” In ways that you can’t. “Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m fooling myself." He looks surprised, taken aback at first and then he looks down for a while. I can’t see his face. His hands never let go of me. When he looks back up, he looks like himself again, sort of.

“Brian, I know that you love me.” I want to believe him. “I’m not always sure that you know it. Maybe that’s what all this was, what today was about? Proving it to me? To your-" I prefer to think of it as high dollar foreplay.

“Justin, I don’t want anyone else seeing you….or touching you…. like that anymore.” His eyes are wide open. I try to look away from them, but the mirror seems to have vanished. There’s no where else to look. “You’re mine.” Fuck. This is coming out of nowhere or going nowhere or going to hell or something. It’s wrong, fucking selfish, to say this now, when he’s leaving. He needs to make his own way in the world, doesn’t need me holding him back. He’s laughing at me softly now, wiping away unclaimed tears that are falling between us.

“Brian, do you know how I know that you love me?” I shake my head. I have no fucking clue. “Because I’ve never seen you look so miserable.” He makes me smile even though I don’t want to. Little shit.

“You’re familiar with that condition, huh?”

“Intimately. Started about four years ago. Hasn’t let up since. I was young, naive. Went home with this guy, let him fuck me. It was my first time too.”

“Your first time? Really? How was it?”

“God, it was amazing. Absolutely amazing.” He’s unraveling my tie now, his legs pulling me against him. “When I close my eyes and think about it, I can still feel him inside me.” He leaves my tie hanging inside my collar, starts unbuttoning my shirt. “I never thought my first time would be like that. I never thought anything with anyone would ever feel like that.” I stop his unbuttoning fingers, pull his face to mine.

His lips feel cold when I kiss them. I take my time. My tongue tracing his lips slowly, one and then other, before venturing inside, everything about him seeming delicate all of sudden. Breakable. His mouth gradually warms to mine as I move inside it, my tongue feeling everything like it’s new again. I tease his tongue with mine, inviting him into my mouth very slowly, and when he finally arrives, he brings a sound with him that makes me grab him tightly for fear that he might fall. I don’t want to lose him. Not now. Not in the middle of this. The ferocity intensifies, his legs pulling me in, his hips pushing against me. His warm hand presses against my stomach and smooths its way up my chest. I stop kissing him for a minute and swallow, a warm wetness between my legs.

“Do that again.” God, I love that. That right there. The way he runs his hand up my chest and looks at me, like I’m everything to him. Every time he touches me like that I want to fuck the absolute shit out of him.

“Brian, let me down.” He ruts against me, his hands cradling the back of my head as we kiss, his feet trying to reach the floor. He can’t. He’s on this counter until I decide otherwise. I still him, my hands on his hips.

“This thing you caught from this guy, it’s contagious?”

“Extremely.” He tugs at my belt. I push his hand away. I need this information. “But you can have it for years before you see any symptoms.”

“I see.” I release his hips, and he immediately takes off my shirt. When he’s done, I catch his hands before he does anything else and put them around my neck. “But yours came on right away?”

“I was high risk I guess--- being so young, and beautiful, and everything.” And virginal.

“And modest.” And brave.

“That too.”

“Was there anything over this four year span of time that alleviated any of your discomfort?”

“There was one thing.” He presses himself against me. “Are you listening? Because I’m only gonna say this once.”

“I’m listening.” He licks my ear.

“This man that I love, when I’m with him, it’s like time just stands still. I forget everything I’ve ever known. I just melt in his arms. And then as soon as he touches me or kisses me, he pulls every bit of desire up and out of me like it was never even mine to begin with.” This is some guy. “But, the thing is, if he doesn’t take me to bed and fuck me senseless this very second, he will sleep on the couch tonight and his account at 'The Bank of My Sweet Little Ass' will be closed….forever.”

Women.

10:06 pm
**************
10:07 pm

You give your love so sweetly

The fuck it will. I own that bank.

He bounces a little when I throw him on the bed. Bounces and laughes. He gets back up on his knees to relieve me of my pants. All of a sudden, they’ve become this terrible burden. His nimble fingers skim down my chest and begin to unbelt, unbutton, and unzip. I hear the swish of my belt tearing through the belt loops, feel the pinch and burn on my skin, a feeling we normally and mutually reserve for him. My pants are about to explode. He says something really sexy and endearing into my ear, but I have no clue what it is. It’s a good thing he has his own money now because he just bought a shit load of vowels.

“I don’t know what the fuck you just said to me, but you’re making me crazy.”

He pulls my lips off of his neck for a second, his warm palms surrounding my face. “Come here.” He kisses me with a force that is almost over-powering and turns my head to the side so he can whisper it into my ear again. I hear him this time. I never get tired of hearing that, never get tired of him whispering erotic requests in my ear. I find it almost unbearably sweet, especially when he reads my mind.

“Is this what happens when I take you out?” He laughs and raises his eyebrows at me. I’m a fucking idiot. A total fucking idiot. There are so many places on his body that my mouth wants to be that I can’t make a choice right now. I put off that decision for a moment and push him back on the bed--hard. Lying between his legs is so addictive, cozy, and presumptuous all at the same time. I fucking love that. “Tell me what you want, Mr. Sunshine.”

“I just told you. I’m not telling you again.” He’s giggling, flirting with me. He’s actually told me three times today, but who’s counting?

“Okay, that’s fine with me, if you don’t want it.” He pokes my ass with his foot.

“Uh.”

“I don’t speak that language.” I tease him as I roll off of him and sit up against the wall. I pat my leg a couple of times. “Get over here.”

“No.” I roll my eyes.

“Yes.” He’s against my leg, running his hand up my inner thigh. I stroke the back of his head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

I stop his hand, leaning down to where his face is, my fingers still running through his hair. “The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be. Get up and get across my lap, Justin, or I’ll spank you right where you are.” He doesn’t want that. The third time’s always the charm. I pull the covers off of him as he crawls into my lap, so warm and sweet. I kiss him as he knwwla there straddling me in his new white shirt that’s just a little too long on him and my necktie, nothing else. I rub his ass, palm his cock. He’s wet. He always is before we do this. “That’s enough. I want you to lie down.” I stop the kissing. It’s a distraction.

I love to watch him lie across my lap, positioning himself for me. He knows what I like, what I expect, but it’s mutual. Everything we do is mutual. Our safe word is hidden somewhere collecting dust in a vault in the Swiss Alps. Justin needs a safe word like I need Viagra. His knees are always on my right side, his face always facing me, his legs always together. And tonight, due to our little fashion show, we have the added bonus of this beautiful white shirt. I pull it down as far as it will go, covering up as much as I can. All things are revealed in time. My hand moves down the side of his face. He watches me.

“You’re beautiful, Justin.” He sucks my fingers into his mouth. He knows I like that. I know he’s ready. “Do you like your new clothes?” I run my other hand over his back, down his shirt-covered ass, the back of his legs.

“I love them.”

He could care less about them right now. His body tenses. He holds himself still, watching me closely as I admire his body, praise his obedience, touch his muscular legs, strong thighs, round bottom. I look at his eyes, fixed on mine, as my hand curves over his ass and down the back of his legs. He licks his lips, tries not to move. My fingers trace small circles outside his asshole. I reach for his hand, our fingers intertwining.

“Are you thinking about when I fuck you like this?” I move my hand down to his upper thigh, my grip firm.

“Yes.”

“Or when I put you across my lap?”

“Yes.”

“Well?” He lets go of my hand and looks away. That’s what I thought. “I know the answer. Don’t look away from me.” He looks back at me, irked. “Don’t be mad at me, Sunshine. Although, you look very hot when you pout.” His spanking started sometime in the middle of that exchange. He’s mad at himself for missing the cue, happy that at least that part’s over with. This is the part he’ll admit to loving. The heat, the sound, the anticipation, or better yet, the lack thereof. “This shirt looks perfect on you.” I play with his hair, caress his face as I spank him over his shirt. He fidgets, the sensation too dull for him. He pushes my hand away. “Still not happy?”

“No.” Impatience.

“Then show me what you want.” He reaches back and pulls his shirt up, exposing his perfect canvas. I lean over, kissing it. “Your ass is a work of art, Sunshine.” He grins widely at the compliment, wincing and whining soon afterward at the sting my hand leaves behind.

“That hurts, Brian.” I’ll bet it does. It surprised him. I slip my hand underneath his legs and still his cock while I admire my work. He fusses at me and ruts in my hand. Things heat up now, my hand leaving his bottom with the red, burning hue it deserves, a reward of sorts for his audible petulance. I talk him through it; it’s part of the packaged deal. My other hand on his back, strong, soothing.

“I’ve got a pretty good reason to have you across my lap tonight, don’t you think?” He squirms, seems to disagree. Interesting. “Why do you think you’re getting this spanking?”

“Because I wanted it.” He thinks he’s so clever. I’ll play this game. My heated fingers trail down his crack. He pushes back, letting his bottom beg for them. Not yet. Not for a while, his hand sliding over my thigh.

“Why did you want it?” My belt is laying on the bed. I reach over, pick it up, and wind it in my hand. His eyes widen. I raise my eyebrows . “Spread your legs.”

“Brian, no.” I lay it beside his face on the bed. He’s not afraid of that belt. He broke it in. His fingers wrap around it, something to hold on to, something of mine. I slap his thighs, right below his backside. He’s sensitive there. He cries out for me, spreading his legs. I remind him to keep his bottom up. He bites the leather as my hand pinks his inner thighs. This is the part he pretends he doesn’t love—the embarrassment, the humiliation, the submission—his private preference. He’s dripping on my legs, moaning, covering his face with his hand.

“Why did you want it, Justin?” He writhes on my lap as I hold him still, his bare bottom recovering from a long run. I soothe him with my lips, my tongue, my hands, letting the right side of my face feel how hot his cheeks are right now, closing my eyes and soaking in the sensation, our intimate routine of surprise, pain, and comfort. God, I love this. Fucking him tonight is going to be indescribable. I watch my left hand glide back down his back into his hair again. He’s looking at me through his fingers. He’s so fucking adorable when he gets like this.

“I should’ve told you about the job, Brian.”

Whoa. A confession. I stop, pulling his hand off of his face, not the answer I was expecting. I cover him with his shirt again and scold him, “If you ever keep something like that from me again, your lap privileges will be permanently revoked. Am I making myself clear?” He smiles, blushes, and nods. He thinks I’m kidding.

“Yes, Mr. Kinney.” He gets up and straddles my lap, reaching over to the nightstand to get everything we need. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay, Justin.” He’s fumbling with the condom. I take it from him and throw it on bed. “I’m trying to kiss you.” My hands rub across his ass as he straddles me, the heat radiating off of him. They don’t call him ‘Mr. Sunshine’ for nothing.

10:53 pm
**************
10:57pm

Tonight the light of love is in your eyes

“I want you inside me, Brian.” He’s pulled away from our kiss. “Like this morning.” He can have anything he wants.

“Get on your back.” He pulls me on top of him as I unbutton his shirt. I’ve never seen so many buttons on one shirt. “Do you feel better now that I took care of that for you?” He doesn’t get as embarrassed if I whisper it to him or keep my face close to his like it is now. I love to make him talk about it because this is his other favorite part—the tornado of desire it stirs up inside me for just him, only him, and what only he can do to me. His shirt finally off, my hands smooth along his backside as my body blankets him. He answers me.

“Yes.” His voice is sultry. His hand joins one of mine on his hot, pink ass. “Feel that?” I nod, matching his devilish grin with one of my many. “I like that.”

“I know. You did a good job. I’m very proud of you.” He kisses me, his answer. I slide my hand down his belly to his cock. He’s soaked. “You were dripping on me.” I stroke him, my palm slipping over the head of his cock over and over. He moans. “You still are.”

“I know.” His breath catches in his throat as I wrap his entire cock in my hand. “Brian, god.”

“Justin, look at me.” He stops writhing underneath me for a minute. I grab one of his hands out of my hair and guide it down to my cock. He strokes me. I’m so hard, I fucking ache. “You feel that? That is going to fuck the shit out of you.”

“Please.” He pants. I pull his hand away, put it over his head.

“But first, I’m going to lick your little hole ‘til you beg me to stop.” His eyes are dark, dilated, and desperate, and he moans my name as I begin my descent down his body--my target sighted, knowing there will be many detours along the way. I toy with his nipple, erect long before I get there, roll it between my fingers, and pinch. His quick response earns the other a similar gift, only with teeth. My face continues to skim down his chest, my hands rubbing the sides of his body as he moans for me, incoherent. My nose traces his chest, his abs, and makes landfall beside his toasty, eager cock. Well, well, well.

“You trimmed.” Without me. It’s already started.

“Surprise.”

“When?”

“When you were picking out a tie to wear for dinner.” I need to get my priorities straight.

I growl at him a little as I make myself at home in his blond, fuzzy nest, letting him buck and squirm and moan all he wants from my well-deserved attention. I slide my right hand along his outer right thigh and start kissing his bent knee at the kneecap, taking it slow. I tongue my way down his inner thigh, listening to him whimper. As I get closer to his dick, he's panting and sucking in little breaths of air. I nip at his inner thighs until he spreads his legs for me like he should.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” The kissing and sucking, sucking and kissing continues down his inner thigh until I'm back at his cock again, only this time I have a different agenda. My lips brush the length of his cock as lightly as I can, no tongue, no spit, just warm, dry lips that are barely there. My hands are there too, but just carelessly stroking his balls; the light touch making him think I love him and hate him at the same time. I know he knows better. He starts to beg when I push his legs up and further apart, running my tongue along the short path to his pucker. “Keep them up, Justin.” He yanks on his necktie when he feels my thumbs part his cheeks, my moist breath warming his tiny, pink asshole.

“Fuck.” His head is raised, a battle lost. The necktie abandoned in the sheets. “Uh, god I love this.”

“Lay down.” I taste his reassuring and peculiar flavor, feel his taut ingress quiver and contract as I lick him. His moans morph into gasps when I nudge inside him, savoring the only thing that should be on a dessert menu. His hands grab his legs, keeping them spread for me as I saturate him with my tongue, listening to him beg me to keep going, to stop, to fuck him, to let him keep begging. That didn’t take long at all.

He tugs my hair because I’m not moving fast enough for him, and I don’t object. I glide up his body, my torso smearing the moisture from both of our bodies as a sound leaves his throat that makes me smile. My face dives at his, fast at first, but then everything slows down as my tongue slicks inside his mouth, over his teeth, and then a quiet moment with just lips and eyes locked.

“Brian?” I stop moving and look at him, feeling his lips lightly littering the rest of my face. “I want you.” He eats the smile off of my face, sucking my tongue into his mouth as I lie back on top of him. He licks every bit of my face that tastes like him. I slide my fingers in his mouth.

“Get them wet. This is all you’re getting.” He pulls my hand out of his mouth, locking his eyes on mine as I get him ready. This won’t take long either, unless I want it to. Getting Justin ready is almost redundant, as if anything about fucking Justin could ever be redundant. I trace his lips with my finger, a quiet amusement on my face.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

“Yes. I promise.” A panting promise, sweet. He wants to please. “What?” He questions my expression. I shrug it off so he asks again, “What?”

I fess up, “I’ve never fuc-- made love to anyone like you. You’re an amazing, persistent little fucker, you know that?” He beams, kisses me.

“Yeah, I know. You don’t suck either.” The smile on his face worthy of a portrait.

“No complaints so far?” My fingers are dry. We got off track. I bring them back to his lips. He holds them back for a second.

“I have some, but I’m not filling out all those forms.” I nod. I don’t blame him. He looks at me through his eyelashes as my fingers disappear into his mouth again, a warm sensation spreading between my legs setting me back on course.

“All little bottom boys get their asses fucked like this, don’t they?”

“Yes. Please.” I kiss him hard as my wet fingers wedge into his wet hole. He bites my lip, my fingers a pinching intrusion, his ass seizing them as they work their way in. He hisses in my ear.

“Be a good boy and let your bottom open up for me.” I widen him slowly, deliberately, staying a step ahead of what he can take. His moaning is almost unbearable. I add another. “Open your bottom, Justin. You heard me.” He strokes himself. I pause for a few seconds, locating the condom I tossed away earlier, right next to him.

“Brian, please don’t stop.” He tucks his head against my shoulder, mewling in my ear as I stretch him, my lips lodged right below his ear.

“Do you like this, Justin?” He more than likes it.

“Yes.” He exhales a little. “Yes.” He wants to come.

“You’re very tight. I want you to feel how tight you are.” I thrust my fingers inside him hard. He nods and swallows, eyes wide open when I talk to him, then closed as he fights this. He knows better than to come like this. I run my lips from his ear to his mouth, forcing my tongue inside. His moans are muffled as he fucks my hand. He protests into my mouth, tries to push my face off of his.

“Brian, please. I can’t.” His fingers are digging into my biceps. I can feel him tightening. He’s almost gone. My fingers disappear. He groans in frustrated relief as I sheath myself. He’ll come on the first push when he’s this wound up. He’s already trying to calm himself down. He opens his eyes, waiting for me.

“If you moan any louder, sweetheart, Party Bitch is going to hear you on ’26.”” He laughs, out of breath. It’s funny.

“’20.’”

“’26.’ She took the stairs.”

“Did you put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?”

“No, I put the 'come on in, we’re having an orgy’ sign on the door.” He kicks my ass as I cover him with my upper body, my cock pulsing at his pucker.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER, HARDER. MORE, MORE, MORE! YES! YES! YES!” Two can play that game. He's so tight his little ass almost chokes my dick. Not for long. “Oh my god Brian. Oh shit. Wait.”

“I’m not waiting, Justin.” His hole's as warm and slippery as the rest of him as I sink inside and fuck him, his moans like surround sound. A warm feeling floods my entire body. Oh fuck, I want this to last longer. Christ. Five or six thrusts in, he tightens under me all of sudden and bursts all over both of us. He wanted to last longer. I slap his bottom, lasted longer than I thought he would. He’s kissing me rabidly, the aftershock of his orgasm entangled with the pounding his ass is getting right now.

“Christ Justin. Your snug little bottom is just like I like it---hot, full, and all mine.” His breathing fights with him. He cries out.

“Hurts Brian. Please don’t stop.”

“Is this how you wanted your ass fucked?” If he makes that face one more time, I’ll come on the spot. Look at his chest instead. “Answer me.”

“Harder.” Fuck. “Brian, I mean it, more. Don’t… stop… fucking… me.” His thrashing has virtually pulled the sheets off this bed.

“I won’t.” I don’t want to. Don’t think I can. I can’t. Words are falling all around me, ending up in a pile on the floor. God, I don’t want this to be over. This is one delicious, chaotic fuck.

“Promise. Don’t.”

“Jus, be quiet.”

“I love y--" I pull his legs to my shoulders, folding him in half. “Oh god, fuck me.”

The only sounds in this room now are our breathing, moaning, and our bodies making contact. The rush in my head is much louder, the volume increasing with every thrust—every time I slide out and find my way back in, he knows I’m back and pulls me farther in. He makes it harder and harder to leave again. His sticky chest is making our movements even slicker as I continue to fuck him. His fingers dig into my shoulders. I can’t make sense out of anything. I can’t give him what he wants, can’t keep going. He feels my body surrendering, the parts that are ready to give up the fight, the others following close behind. My victory re-defining itself as it pours out of me.

I smother him when I come, his moaning the only thing I can comprehend. “Holy fuck Justin. Holy… fucking…… fuck.” His head inches from the wall. Mine making contact. Can’t even feel it. I can’t feel fucking anything. He lies underneath me, catching his breath. The task made much more difficult at first because my mouth is covering his. I have collapsed, given in. Somehow I feel him running his fingers quietly behind my ears, his hand on my head, soothing me with whispered words…

“Jesus, Brian. Oh my god. That was exactly what I wished for. Oh my god, that was amazing. Is your head okay?” His hot breath is almost too loud in my ear. Everything is too loud right now. I lift up for a second to kiss him, hitting my head on the wall again. I groan, burying my face in his pillow. “Brian, be careful.” I’m defeated in his arms.

a few minutes later…

“Brian?” I’m not available for questions right now.

“Hmm?”

“You left the condom in the elevator on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me.” Don’t laugh when my dick is inside you. That tickles. I was almost asleep.

“Brian?” Please shut the fuck up, my little kink mister.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do that again, you know, a little later?”

“I’ll just buy you something.” He wears me the fuck out. “Don’t laugh when my dick is inside you. That’s fucking weird.”

**************
bedtime

But will you love me tomorrow

“I have to pull out.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I have to. You’re not a pretzel.” Not full time anyway. I get a good look at the bed, lit only from the dim light of the bathroom. The sheets are sort of on the bed. I can’t really tell. Don’t really care. I watch him as he stretches out. I lie on my back, feeling like I should be smoking right now. I look over at him. He looks sleepy. He rolls on his side facing me, his hand in my hair, his face smiling at me. “What?” He better not be horny again.

“I’m really proud of you Brian.”

“Why? Because I used the “L” word in a sentence?” He kicks me. He’s a strong little fucker.

“No, you asshole.”

“Because I defended your honor in a duel with the Party Bitch?”

“Um, no. And you didn’t defend my honor. She thinks I’m a fucking prostitute.”

“A very expensive prostitute.” He laughs.

“No, I’m proud of you because your—our---clothes are strewn all over this place, and you haven’t had an anxiety attack or needed any special medication.”

“Don’t make me spank you again.”

“Brian”. He turns away from me, pulling the covers over his head. He must want me to.

“I’m just teasing you.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Fine. Come here.” I roll on my side and pull him to me, kissing his neck, the side of his face, ending up at his ear. My hands are elsewhere, where they’re not supposed to be. “I think we should warm this up a little before you start pushing it against me all night.”

“Brian, what did I say?” He slides my hand off of his ass, over his hip, and onto his dick. I take it in my hand, feeling it get hard again. I drape my leg over his legs, encompassing him.

“We need to sleep, Justin. You’ve worn me ragged the last forty-eight hours.”

“I know. Did you have fun today, Brian?” Best day of my life or damn close to it.

“Yeah. I had a blast.”

“You did?” He tilts his head back.

“Yeah. Watching you prance around in your new clothes and just being with you, was really fun, really nice actually. I think I actually kind of like you.” He pokes me with his elbow.

“Yeah, me too.”

We’re both kind of quiet for a while. I listen to him breathe in my arms, shift my body a little. He reaches behind him pulling my hips to his, my erection resting in the crevice of his ass, my desire quiet. His hand covers mine on his cock with a gentle squeeze as he presses a condom into my other hand. I open the wrapper with my teeth. I press one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip as I slide inside, pushing through his resistance.

“Ah. Ow.”

He closes his eyes, biting his lip as he swells to take me again. My fingers trail his chin, letting him know that I’m watching his face as he accepts me. I don’t think the tears he’s crying have anything to do with the pain he’s in.

“Justin, don’t.” He dries his eyes on his pillowcase and looks back at me. I lean in to kiss him, the salt from his tears flavoring our kiss.

“I’m just sore.” I nod, accepting that version of the truth, my head over his shoulder. I need to speed this up for both of us, but my mind won’t cooperate, preferring the in-flight movie instead. I see him everywhere I’ve ever fucked him as I rock inside him—smashed against the wall of the backroom, insecure and shadowed at the baths, cold and bundled up in an alley with his pants pushed down no farther than necessary, bent over my many desks, warm and wet in the shower, even relieved in a hotel room much like this one a long time ago when I showed up to take him home. The endless chairs, kitchen counters, table tops, sofas, pillows, support beams, and---

“Brian.” He nudges me. “Please.” I rarely come before he does, usually when I’m not paying attention. I tighten my grip around his cock, his ass clenching my dick as his orgasm starts, a nice finish for mine. “Stay okay? Don’t move.” He’s tired, his voice trailing off, his hand looking for mine.

“I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.” He’s sound asleep in less than ten minutes, no acknowledgement at all when I pull us apart, dispose of the condoms, piss, and turn off the light. I return, wrapping myself around him again. He stirs. “Go back to sleep, Justin.”

“Mmmmkay. Just don’t snore in my ear and don’t kick me.”

I love you, too.