Nothing Could Stop it (Chapter 7.5)
Pairings: Ian/ Anthony
Rating/Warnings: This is most definitely NC-17. Gay sex. Penises entering anuses. If you don't like that, please do not continue reading.
Summary: A night devoted to expressing and discovering their new-found feelings.
Author's Notes: Most of you probably don't even remember the story that I finished so long ago! But I swore that I would write some smut about their hotel night together so here it is! I had to get over writing adult concepts, and then I got an anon message on tumblr that said they were sad that I was writing smut (I got a little discouraged and then thought, wait. I want to do this. I like the idea of them humping so I should forget about it and write it up). Here is the finished product. MY FIRST SMUT EVER. Please give me crit. I'm serious, I would like to better myself!
Previous Chapters: Do you really want them all? Fiiiiiiiine.
THE NEWEST ONE GOES BETWEEN THESE CHAPTERS. I SUGGEST RE-READING CHAPTER 7 ;P
Anthony smiled into my mouth, happy that I wasn't rejecting him, happy that our lips were connected in a true kiss. Not a mock one for some movie role. We were kissing because we wanted to, because we felt something for each other. Anthony was snaking his arms around me and pressing us together, deepening the kiss. And this time, I didn't have to worry about losing control and letting it go on too long. If we both felt the same way, we could go wherever we wanted tonight. No restrictions.
Warmth resonated from his chest into mind. His soft lips massaged my own, our noses bumped, our chins grazed each other. His slightly unkempt facial hair was rough but somehow fitting. The tiny sensation from the coarse follicles heightened my feeling, made me more aware of every other sensation. His smell, his taste, made me dizzy.
We began to forget about guilt or confusion or our straight subconscious; whatever the fuck was still holding us back. We became more frantic. His tongue slipped through my slightly parted lips and probed sternly. One of his hands traced my spine through fabric that was becoming way too hot for skin to be covered with. When did the room get so fucking hot? I felt as though I was going to combust, burn up into a mix of flames and ash.
I slowly lowered myself from my sitting position, back into the bed., Anthony following with me, moving a hand up into my hair, weaving his fingers through the strands. He was now on top of me, one arm in my hair, the other supporting himself with a bent elbow pressed against rucked up comforter fabric. Our chests and bellies were pressed together. His legs were slightly skewed from aligning with my own. I focused on the feelings that tingled wherever our skin touched, which was mostly concentrated in the spots on our lower abdomen where our shirts had risen slightly. I focused on his mouth moving with my own, tongue running over my lips. I gasped when I felt his tongue touch mine. I couldn't help but notice, he tasted just as perfect as when we first kissed. Had it really only been last night?
The blood coursing through my veins like a trail of molten lava, pumped southward at a dizzying pace. I could feel myself getting hard, Anthony could probably feel it too, considering his place on top of me. I should be embarrassed by it. I should feel ashamed. I was too far gone in sensation and want to care, really.
A bite to his lower lip produced a sound from his mouth that sounded suspiciously like a low moan. He broke the kiss for a second to pant above me, mouths so close that we shared moist and heavy oxygen. Right, oxygen. I forgot I needed that.
He eyed me in silent communication. I understood every unspoken word. We didn't know how far we'd go tonight, how far we were willing. His heavy lidded gaze pierced into me. His eyes burned with unpent lust, fear, wonderment. The pupils blazed obsidian black, smoldering into my own. I was surprised that I didn’t light on fire considering the look he was giving me, or the intense heat that rolled underneath my skin in waves of feeling.
I watched as red lips parted and felt the puff of warm air on my own lips. I watched as his pink tongue darted out to wet those red, parted lips. I longed to taste that tongue again. What was he waiting for? We had enough oxygen. I hoped to God that he wasn’t reconsidering or backing out. I hoped to God that he wouldn’t leave me here, painfully aroused and lonely.
“Ian.” He whispered. I marveled at the roughness of his voice, gravely like he just woke up from a heavy night of sleeping.
I gulped. I felt the desire to crack my knuckles, my finger were twitching but completely out of commission at the moment. “Yeah?”
“You- you sure this is what you want? This is okay? You…you don’t mind?” His eyes darted around. I could almost smile at his comment, his doubt. Fuck, is this what I wanted? I wanted to laugh deep and loud. I wanted to tell him every fucking thing I had thought throughout this LA trip. He really couldn’t see the effect he had on me right now? I wanted to smack him in the head for being so blind. I didn’t though. I allowed a gentle smile that I could see calmed his nerves. An idea crept to the forefront of my mind.
“I’m about as sure as one can be, Padilla.” I dropped my hands to his hips and thrust up strong and sure, pressing our crotches together. I hoped he could feel just how turned on I was, I was positive I wanted this, and nothing could make me say no. I wasn’t prepared, however, for the keening sound that ripped from his throat as he dropped his head onto my shoulder. He stuttered out a muted expletive. My mouth was open in a surprised ‘o’. I shook off the shock that I could get such a reaction out of him.
“That seem unsure to you?” I laughed a bit when he shook his head against my shoulder, bumping the side of his temple into my chin.
He pushed himself up again, rising to eye me with a different look. One less scared or dubious. Instead, it resonated with curiosity and need. He ground his hips down into mine, again. Testing the waters, watching my reaction. I gasped and close my eyes tight. I don’t think I could put into words the feeling of both of us pressed together, hard and wanting. Not in a million years. It was a mix of liquid fire and prickles of ice dancing across my skin. It was a flash of white lightening pleasure across my vision. It was heaven.
My hands still gripping his sides inched up to the hem of his t-shirt. It was much too hot for troublesome fabric such as this suffocating cotton. I pulled it up and off, over his head, messing his hair up, which strangely only added to his attractiveness. I had a thing for bed-head apparently.
I took in the sight of his exposed torso; sculpted and lean, not disgustingly jacked up, but definitely not scrawny. It was a perfect balance. He was simply fit, he had to be for our videos as many were a fan of shirtless Anthony. I eyed the milky skin whose color was beginning to fade with the absence of the summer sun’s kiss. I reached up to brush my hands across the expanse of smooth skin. I was a fan too, I decided. A quick flick to his nipple brought out another interesting sound from him. Not as major as that last one, that had been like the grandfather of all sex sounds.
He lowered himself down to press our lips together again, mouths opening, engulfing each other. He fumbled with my own T-shirt, only able to use one hand as the other still clutched at the back of my head. I helped him as best I could and we managed, pulling off the material over my head, breaking our deep kiss if but only for a moment.
The cool rush against my chest was welcoming after the stuffy heat I had begun to feel. And even better, the skin to skin contact felt undeniably delicious. Sizzles sparked all over the surface of my chest. He removed his mouth from my own and slowly slid it down across my face. It murmured kisses up my cheek bone, trekking down my jaw line, swooping down to my neck. He nuzzled it, sucked at it, probed the skin with his warm tongue. A little contented sound escaped my throat, my head rolled back to expose more flesh. Even when he unexpectedly bit down on the sensitive skin, I couldn’t deny the pleasure I felt at his touch.
I recognized the anticipation I felt as he moved lower, too. He was taking it slow. Which was probably healthy considering this was our first time.
Our first time what? What was going to happen tonight? We would find out sooner or later, I suppose. I wasn’t worrying about it. Finally. Very uncharacteristic of me to have the ability to turn my brain off. Maybe it was the fact that I was exhausted. Maybe I needed comfort. Or maybe my thoughts were erased with the feel of Anthony’s lips moving down my throat, massaging my collar, and continuing on it’s journey downwards.
Holy fuck. Downwards. I took in a shaky breath, and reached a hand up to grab the base of his neck and rhythmically grab and release the messy, slightly sweaty hair there.
He licked his way past my collar, around my left nipple- holy fuck, why did that feel so amazing?- and down to my stomach. He was sidling along down my body, hands on either side of me, scootching down further on the bed. He stopped for a second and I felt deep and heavy breaths blowing on the fine hairs of my stomach. It tickled a little so I unintentionally wiggled away from it. He picked his head up, a questioning look in his eyes.
“Sorry. It tickled.” My voice came out in a breathy mess. He rolled his eyes.
“What? It did! You know I’m ticklish.” I recalled the times where a shot was ruined while filming some scene that involved something ticklish. I recalled a few times he would poke me too much and I’d end up on the floor, laughing madly, panting desperately for air his tickling hands wouldn’t allow. Wow. Now that’s a not even mildly gay memory. I shook my head. We both had been blind, I guess.
I yelped when I realized Anthony’s tongue had come out from his mocking mouth and was now swiping down the my abdomen. It was still a little tickly when it brushed the fine hairs of my “happy trail”, but I couldn’t exactly think about laughing when I was feeling so many things: the breeze that cooled Anthony’s trail of saliva, the anticipation, the pleasure, maybe still a little bit of fear.
He had reached the waistband of my jeans. This was it. Where we going to go through with it? His head picked up, his eyes searching my own. Did I want it? Fuck, I knew I wanted it. But did I want to let it happen?
Time seemed to stay frozen. His brown pupils trained on my blue, both our breaths were held. This was the point of no return. Everything before this was mere child’s play, something that could be brushed off, forgotten, abandoned. If we really wanted to, we could pretend it didn’t happen. But only if we stopped right here.
I knew I couldn’t let that happen, though. It would be impossible at this point. Anthony felt amazing. It felt amazing to be with him. And that’s all that mattered. Fuck everything else. Fuck the doubt. Fuck the fear. Fuck the complications. I wanted him. And I wanted him now.
I felt my eyes grow completely serious, not an inch of laughter between our two gazes. I nodded. Yes, we were going to do this. Fuck yes. He smiled. He reached down.
He was still going slow, and I was stuck between two feelings. There was the one that understood the need to take it slow, the part of me that wanted to, also. We were still discovering as we went along, recognizing our feelings with every kiss. With every touch.
However, there was the other part of me who was simply listening to my dick. I wanted to tear every single article of clothing off his body. I wanted to feel every part of Anthony, everywhere, all at once. I wanted to hear him make one of those agonizingly hot sounds again. I wanted him. Now. Fast.
I had to make myself realize that patience was the best thing to have right now. Breathe. Focus on him.
Anthony was slowly unbuttoning the top of my jeans with shaking fingers. I watched his progression, I could almost laugh at the amateur way he was unclothing me. It was like he never had sex before. It’s not like I was wearing skinny jeans which required a chainsaw and several buff men to remove. But I let him struggle with the button, understanding that it was different with a dude. With your best friend. My top teeth bit down on my bottom lip; it was eye-opening to put it that way. Worry tried to worm its way into my mind. But then the button let go, and everything else fled from my mind but him. Anthony picked his gaze up to look at me again, an unspoken question in his eyes which he didn’t have to voice.
“Go ahead, Ant. I want this. I want…you.” My voice was a shaking whisper. My skin was an inferno which ached with the memory of his feather light touches. I nodded. I was so ready. My whole body burned for a touch, my dick ached to be released.
Fingers clasped the zipper to my jeans and dragged it down. Oh. So. Slowly. I shuddered at the slight sensation of fingers on my embarrassingly large bulge- oh well, too late to care now. My pants were pulled down to mid thigh and he laid a timid hand on the very front of my boxers. Still so agonizingly light. With a groan, I dropped my head back to rest on the overstuffed hotel pillows.
Anthony hesitated, his hand still resting on my barely clothed crotch that was craving to be touched rougher, faster. But I understood. Slow and steady. It was the smartest choice.
That didn’t stop me from wishing, so intensely it hurt, for him to hurry the fuck up. I looked up briefly to look at him. He was perched over my lap, one hand resting on me, eyes closed so tightly it was a wonder they didn’t tear. I wondered what he was thinking. I wish I could see into his mind- if only for a moment.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, gaze caught mine, and he firmly- finally!- stroked his hand down the front of my hard-on. My breath stuttered and my head flopped back down to pillows. I surveyed the white ceiling above me, focusing all energy on the hand that felt so fucking fantastic on my cock.
His touch felt great, even over the thin cotton fabric of my boxers. It was enough to keep me sane, although I couldn’t deny how much I wanted more. He continued to rhythmically rub up and down the length of my dick. My hips thrust up on their own accord to find more friction, force myself harder into his wide palm. The flat expanse of flesh hit upon my erection with a surprisingly strong press- a mix of my thrust and his rhythm- and I couldn’t hold in my excitement. I felt a yelp escape my lips and sweat sprout at my hairline.
“Th-that felt g-good.” My statement stumbled through numb lips. “Can you just stop f-fucking around?” I felt frustrated at his timidity. I just wanted him to fucking grip my dick with strength I knew he had and pump like it was his job.
That was it.
Screw the waiting.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I reached down to remove his hand- I immediately missed the touch, however slight it was. I struggled to take off my pants and boxers all the way- getting them off in a flash and tossing them hard across the hotel room. He looked at me with questioning eyes. I grabbed his hand and thrust it on my cock as hard as I wanted. His eyes flew open at my forwardness, or maybe it was a reaction to the sound I made.
But I couldn’t help it, damnit.
He got the picture and tightened his grip on my dick, pumping up and down slowly at first, but gaining speed. I arched at his touch, pushing up into his grasp. And holy fucking hell, did this feel good. His hand wasn’t exactly rough or callused but they sure weren’t the delicate and soft hands of a girl’s. But that only added to the sensation I was feeling, that lit my skin on fire and pumped blood to my hardening member.
All thoughts fled my fevered brain. All I could think about was his hand, moving so fast and strong. It was amazing. I was writhing on the bed, my hips bucking up, my muscles rippling, my breath coming out in fast gasps. I would be fine with just letting him do this until I came all over him, feeling the orgasm flash across my vision and burn into my flesh. But that would ruin the fun.
He quickly thumbed the head of my cock, eliciting a breathy groan from me. I could feel myself losing it, pressure tightening in the pit of my stomach. I picked up my head off the pillows and grabbed his still-pumping hand, stilling it. He looked at me wide-eyed. His face was red and sweaty.
I took the moment to calm myself down a little, waiting to let my breathing slow. I pushed back the hair that stuck to my brown.
“F-fuck, Ant. I didn’t want you to ever stop.” He smiled and leaned down over my body again, taking my lips for his own.
“Why’d you stop me then?” He licked underneath my jaw, and pressed his hips into my own, forcing himself into my bare and hardened skin, making my vision swim. Wait, what was his question? Why did I stop him?
Why did I stop him? Oh yeah.
“Because, it’s not all about me of course.” In a flash, I pushed myself up and wrapped my arms around his waist, using the momentum to flip us over, so he was underneath me. I took a second to look at him, waiting, wanting. But then I dove in, attacking his lips with kisses. I wasn’t into the whole “taking it slow” thing. I pushed my tongue through his open lips and tasted every part of his mouth. He was responding just as fervently, our tongues fighting each other playfully, lustfully. I don’t think I could ever get enough of his taste, sweet and simply Anthony.
While I was kissing him, I dragged my hands down from their place at where they had come to rest- on either side of his head. I stroked down his neck, ribs, stomach, and stopped at this top of his pajama bottoms that he had apparently slipped into when I was passed out on the bed earlier. I continued to kiss him deeply as I slid the pants down, along with his boxers. I could feel that Anthony wasn’t the only one with a “growing problem”.
I rested one arm on the bed for support and used my other hand to clutch his dick with a hard grasp. He gasped into my mouth and arched up into my hand. He groaned and clenched his eyes shut. I increased the friction on his already growing erection, pumping my hand like he did to me only minutes ago.
He was much more vocal than I was, not that I minded. Fuck no. Exactly the opposite, in fact. The sounds of his aroused groaning beneath me was enough to make me wish that we could do this forever. With each gasp, moan, plead for me to go faster, I felt like losing it. My own cock ached and the fingers of my other hand itched to reach down and jerk myself off over him. I held back though. If I held back, it was possible that this could…advance to the next level.
He broke away from my mouth “I-Ian. Holy FUCK!” Anthony shouted the final bit, arcing up off the flat surface of bed. I knew he was close. I didn’t want to let go. “I’m gonna-”
I slowed my hand. His mouth released a shaking breath from lips that were kiss swollen and red. I allowed him to calm down, we both breathed hard, swapped humid air, I gazed at his beautiful face that was beat-red and shining with sweat. He was so fucking sexy.
I pushed the sweaty hair from his forehead and it spiked up adorably, almost sticking straight up in some places. I noticed the pants that were still pooled around his calves and I took a second to pull them off and toss them halfway across the room. Didn’t need those. I rested my hand on his cheek and laid myself on top of his body. With both of us completely naked, it was total skin to skin contact, my flash sparked at the feel, it was like little fireworks were being set off in my veins. My lips murmured kisses on his neck.
“Ian?” His hand was reaching down to stroke along my slick back. “You- are we? I mean, do you want to, um-”
I picked my head up and put an index finger to his lips. “Anthony. Shut your stuttering mouth. Yes, I want to fuck. I call top.”
His lips turned up into a relieved smile under my finger. He rolled his eyes. “Hell no, you’re definitely the bottom. I‘m bigger and stronger” He mumbled under my finger. I took it off.
“Oh yeah, but who’s on bottom right now, huh?” I smiled at him and pecked him on the lips. “Ha.”
Suddenly, without warning, I was being grabbed and tossed onto my back, Anthony straddling my hips with reckless abandon, grinding his hips down into mine, hard. We both gasped. And I clutched at his thighs with a grip that would probably leave marks.
“Who’s on bottom now, bitch?” Anthony leaned down and whispered tauntingly into my face. I frowned, but only for a second as it was impossible to stay frustrated when he was giving me the look that he had. Like he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Also, I felt weirdly turned on at being dominated.
Fuck. Never in a million years would I divulge, to Anthony, that little piece of information. I was not the girl in this relationship.
We were kissing again and his fingers were dancing across my skin, stroking every part it could reach. My hands traveled from his thighs, to his back and were stroking down the slick length of it. My cock still ached, I hoped that Anthony was going to get to the fucking bit sooner rather than later.
He must have read my mind, because he was suddenly disconnecting his mouth from my own and picking himself up from straddling position to instead crouch between my legs. My pulse jumped with the sudden realization that Anthony was going to fuck me. In the ass. Oh shit. Oh fuck. We were both very unskilled in this…situation. Neither of us were gay, I had never tried it on a girl, I had only seen it done once or twice.
Not that I ever watched gay porn.
It was just, that sometimes it just happened to be there and curiosity got the better of me and-
Whatever, the point was, we didn’t know shit about how to do this. I felt sweat sprout at my hairline. I tried desperately to calm myself before I went all hyperventilating, psycho, monster thing.
But it was Anthony. I trusted him, I loved him. At least, I think I did. Nobody could know somebody for as long as we had, gone through as much as we had, and not come to love each other. It was just, only recently had it developed into a new kind of love.
“I-Ian. I don’t know what we’re going to use for…um…” Anthony’s face grew redder, if that was even possible. What was he talking about? Oh, lube. It would probably hurt like hell if we didn’t use anything.
“Um, the hotel bathroom might have hand cream? Or, if not, we could use gel soap or some shit?” I suggested to him.
He hopped off the bed in a flash of motion. I sat myself up and crossed my arms over my chest. I suddenly felt cold, exposed, and very lonely. But he wasn’t gone long before joining me on the bed again, wrapping my legs around his back and kissing me. In his hands was a bottle of gel shampoo, it would have to do since we didn’t have traditional lube or anything. It’s not like we planned to have a fucking session during our trip to LA.
He slowly pushed me back to the pillows and let his hands slide down the length of my slick body, buzzing with anticipation and fear. He popped open the cap of the bottle and broke away from my lips, meeting my gaze, watching me as he squeezed a small amount into his palm. I pressed my feet into his back. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy. Shit.
I released a shaking breath as he spread the gel around on two fingers. “I’m going to stretch you, okay?” He eyed me silently, perched between my legs. I nodded. I was scared, worried, but ready. I wanted this. I wanted him. Any amount of pain should be worth it. I hope to god that this would go alright.
He brought a single finger down to my ass, I jumped a little at the cool touch on my hot skin. He found the puckered ring and gently pressed the tip of his finger up into it. I laid my head back on the pillows and tried to relax. It obviously didn’t hurt yet, but I had never been touched there in my life. It felt weird. New. Slowly, surely he pressed deeper into the orifice. Stretching me open. I couldn’t say that it felt…good. But it didn’t feel bad either. Just…weird. A new pressure to delicate skin which had never felt something like this before.
I glanced up at Anthony whose gaze was serious, cautious. I trusted him. It would be fine. It would feel good after awhile, no doubt.
The length of his finger slid into me completely. I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “You okay?” Anthony brought his other hand forward to stroke my chest. I smiled and met his worried gaze, nodding slightly. “Ready for more?” I nodded again, bringing my hands up to clutch at his thighs, an anchor to him, a way that I could silently relay discomfort or pleasure.
He slowly slipped his finger out, only to press the tips of two into my tight hole. My breath caught in my throat. Two was completely different than one. I clutched at his thighs and he stopped his progression. “Does it hurt?” He leaned down to stroke my cheek with his free hand.
“A little.” I managed to say.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No, no. I can take it. Just go slow.”
He nodded. And slow he went. The pain was surprising and it was unlike anything else I had experienced. And why not? The skin being stretched beyond the point of ordinary size. I was nervous as to what his dick would feel like, seeing as though it was definitely bigger than two fingers.
I noticed I wasn’t relaxing very well, my muscles were taught and my teeth clenched. We were getting very far. This was a disaster. My breathing came erratic and gasping, I feared a full-blown asthma attack may come. Curse my lungs.
“A-ant.” I panted for a second, trying to allow my words to form properly. “I don’t know it I can-”
Suddenly, an blinding electricity shot across my vision and feeling shuddered all across my body- from the surface of my skin, to deep into my organs. I cried out and arched up, my eyes clenched along with the muscles of my abdomen. “Holy fuck. What was that?”
Anthony was suddenly above me, smiling and kissing my lips. “That, Ian, was your prostate.”
“I-holy- that was- can you do that again?” He smiled and pressed up again, brushing a bundle of sensitive nerves that I never knew could elicit a feeling such as this. Electric pleasure danced across my skin. I gripped his thighs so hard that he would have bruises in the shape of my fingers for weeks.
“Like that?” His tone was jubilant, I suspected he was about to give up hope, too.
I breathed out a scarcely understandable, “Yeah.” He prodded the spot again and again, leaving me a stuttering, shaking, out-of-breath mess. I barely even noticed that he had sat back again and his fingers had slid in completely and were now scissoring within the tight passage in a less-than-gentle fashion which hinted at Anthony’s level of arousal.
“Ian, I don’t know if I can wait…any longer.” Anthony was panting, his eyes closed shut, his hand was holding his erection tightly, hand traveling down the length of it in slow, shaky strokes. He was trying to hold back, but I understood. If he was anywhere near as hard as me, he was about to burst.
“Yeah, okay, yeah. I’m ready, Ant. I’m ready.” I reached up to grab the back of his head and meet our lips together sloppily. I wanted him to be 100% sure that I wanted this and that I trusted him. He leaned back again, grabbing and popping open the bottle of shampoo which had somehow traveled to the other side of the bed. He squeezed a small amount and covered his dick in the cool gel. I breathed deeply and tried to relax myself as much as possible. He took his place between my legs and I wrapped them lightly around his back, my feet pressing into his warm, sweaty bare skin. He grabbed the base of his dick and positioned it where his fingers once were moments ago. Our eyes met in silent communication. He was no longer just my best friend. This would constitute something entirely different. I wasn’t sure what quite yet, but we would figure it out. All that mattered right now was him and me and the wonderful moment we were about to take part in. I nodded and he pushed in a little.
The pain was back, and at a larger degree than what two fingers had elicited. But I knew that he would take it slow, do his best not to hurt me too much, try to find that wonderful spot that would have me crying out and burning for more. I tried to keep my face calm and reassuring. I eyed him and his reactions, focusing on his face so I could ignore the pain. His features were contorted in ecstasy. I could only imagine the friction he was experiencing, his cock was being massaged more intensely than any hand could do. I felt kind of…proud that I could make him feel this way. I concentrated on the emotions rather than discomfort so I wouldn’t go all stressed and hyperventilating again. Breathe deeply. Think about Anthony. Think about feeling good.
Suddenly, a jagged moan broke free from my throat and I felt the familiar pleasure dance across my sight and my skin. He answered my cry with a smaller one of his own and dropped his head into the crook of my neck. He pushed in deeper and a little faster. “You. Have no idea.” I felt his heavy breath on my skin. “How good. You feel.”
My reaction smile was cut off by another gasp as he hit my special spot again. It was like his dick was a magnet attracted to my prostate. He sped up more, sliding in and out with deep thrusts. I couldn’t even remember the pain that I had felt earlier. I’m sure it would come back, but for now I could only focus on the amazing feel of his thrusts, his working on my prostate. The feeling of his cock stimulating the sensitive tissue of my ass was indescribable. Again, I couldn’t say that it felt “good”, just different. It was tolerable. It was when he pressed against my prostate that I felt pure ecstasy, shots of hormones raging through my body, making it burn and twitch and arch.
Anthony only got rougher as his control was slowly replaced by lust and need. His thrusts were fast and rough, no longer rhythmic, but irregular and harsh. I squirmed at the contrasting pressure in my ass and the amount of pleasure that I was feeling. Anthony was obviously feeling quite a bit of sexual satisfaction, too. He was loud during sex, groaning and breathing harshly, not hiding any reaction from me. I wasn’t really any better. I briefly felt kind of bad for our hotel neighbors.
I moved my legs at a different angle, causing Anthony to slide even deeper into me. He gasped and I clutched at his poor thighs which would be scattered with bruises and fingernail marks by tomorrow.
A particularly hard thrust which hit my prostate dead on told me that I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. “Ant? I think I’m gonna-”
Another thrust, identical to the last left me gasping and broke my train of thought. I felt my stomach muscles writhe and clench, my balls tightened. A third plunge deep into my ass brushed against the bundle of nerves once again and that’s all it took. My heart took off in an fast, erratic pace as my vision was blinded by a flash of white. I was minorly aware of Anthony still pumping into my ass as my muscles tightened and my cock spasmed, spilling ribbons of white onto both our stomachs. I cried out and felt him lose it inside me at the same time. I was filled with the strange sensation of Anthony’s slippery come deep in my ass. Riding off the end of my orgasm, I glanced at his face. It had such a look of bliss and pleasure that I felt like my heart would simply stop. He groaned deep and long and collapsed into a heaving mess on top of me.
We laid like that for quite some time. My hands came up to stroke across his wet back. I reveled in the feel of our bodies pressed together, heaving, our lungs trying to get their fill of oxygen. His head twisted around to press his lips against my neck, tongue darting out lightly, smoothing over my pulse point. I smiled and brought a hand up to run it lovingly through his messy, sweaty, curling dark hair.
He pushed himself up with shaking limbs and gently pulled out of my ass. I gasped. Holy fuck, that hurt. I felt stretched and exposed. And my ass burned in pain. His eyes shifted with worry and he stroked the side of my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Please don’t be sorry. I don’t care if it hurts a little.” I breathed, pulling him down to cuddle against me again, kissing his lips, nuzzling our noses together, “It is worth it.”
He smiled and nodded, his worry dissipating a little. I hoped that he wouldn’t blame anything on himself. I wanted it, I liked it, and it didn’t matter that my ass wouldn’t be itself for a few days. What did we expect?
“We should probably clean up at least a little bit.” I glanced down at my stomach and nodded, silently agreeing with him. There was a small box of tissues on the bed side which we pilfered from, taking a few seconds to wipe up enough so that we didn’t fall asleep in a sticky mess of goo. We’d take proper showers tomorrow.
I bunched up the dirty tissues and dropped them in a pile to the floor. We’d take care of those tomorrow, too. I laid back down, pulling Anthony down with me, taking note of the bags under his eyes and his slightly haggard face. It had been a long-ass day. But a good one. An amazing one. Close to perfect.
His thumb ran along my jaw and his arms slid down to encircle my torso. He rolled next to me and pulled me with him. Our fronts were connected in a comfortable pressure and I didn’t care that it was a little too hot to be this close to another human. The air was cooling off a little and right now, I really needed his touch. Our legs intertwined and our breath continued to even out. Especially me, considering I was a wheezing asthmatic. I allowed my eyes to slip closed and my head to loll against his shoulder.
“Ian?” My eyes opened again and met his. The irises were almost black in the dark room.
“Hmm?” My reply came out sleepily and low.
“That was amazing.” He whispered, bringing his lips to mine. Our tongues met briefly but in all, it was a perfectly innocent kiss which spoke of adoration and appreciation. We both recognized this new feeling between us and we were ready to act on it. It felt amazing to be loved by someone I loved myself, even if I wasn’t quite ready to admit the feeling quite yet. Sex, kissing, and cuddling would be enough for now.
“Yeah, it was.” And with that, we both shared a contented smile and let our exhaustion that came from the day, the sex, wash over us. We closed our eyes and drifted out of consciousness, still cuddled up together, sharing oxygen, sharing warmth. Sharing love.
Hope it was worth the wait. But again, it's my first. Did you hate it? TELL ME IF YOU HATED IT! GAH.