L Witt - Nine-tenths of the Law

In no time at all-though it felt like much too long-we’d shed the last of our clothes, leaving nothing between us but space. We didn’t touch immediately. Instead, we simply looked at each other. I hadn’t had a chance to look at him like this that first night, to really see him, but now that I could, I did.

And Jesus Christ, the man was beautiful.

Virtually hairless except for the dark vertical line below his navel and the thin shadow of hair on his forearms. Toned, like he spent a few hours a week at the gym but didn’t devote his life to it. A hint of bronze that was likely borne of leisure in the sun, not vanity in a tanning bed.

For a moment, I envied the artist that had tattooed the intricate eagle on Nathan’s left arm and the elaborate tribal band circling his right. They must have taken hours. Hours during which some lucky bastard had his hands on Nathan’s body, even if it was just his arm.

But the envy disappeared as the grin on his face broadened and he put his arms around me, kissing me again. That artist had had a hold on Nathan’s arm for a few hours.

Nathan’s arms would have a hold on me all damned night.

Maybe anticipation had heightened my senses. Maybe it was because we’d shed the cool barrier of clothing that dulled the sensations of contact. Whatever it was, when we came together this time, I swore everything was amplified: Skin so hot it was almost feverish. The nearly inaudible growl that thrummed against my lips when he kissed me. Cologne and the muskiness of him making my head spin while the coolness of mint and the warmth of his breath turned my knees to water.

It was overwhelming and not nearly enough. I wanted more.

With my hands on his hips, I guided him to the bed. At first, he tried to resist, tried to turn me toward it, but when I stroked his cock the same way he had mine, he didn’t put up a fight. He held the edge of the bed, growling into my kiss as his cock twitched in my hand.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “God, I want-” A gasp cut him off. He bit his lower lip and let his head fall back for a moment before finally whispering, “I want to fuck you.”

I didn’t argue with him, but I didn’t give him what he wanted just yet. I wanted his cock inside me, but first-

I dropped to my knees.

“Oh, Jesus,” he breathed as I slowly took his cock into my mouth. “Fucking…oh, God…”

I ran my tongue over every inch of his cock, memorizing each ridge and contour. Maybe it was just desperation, maybe I was just that horny, but I couldn’t remember ever enjoying the way another man tasted like I did now. I’d always loved sucking cock, but Nathan’s-the salt of his skin, the faint sweetness that told me he was getting closer, along with the heat of his body and the thrum of his horny, whimpering groans-was too fucking hot to pass up.

His fingers were in my hair, grasping as best he could with an unsteady hand. From the frustrated moans and the occasional twitch of his hand, I knew he wanted me to go faster, to take more of him into my mouth, but I didn’t yet. I never imagined I’d have this opportunity, and there was a good possibility I’d never have it again, so I wasn’t about to rush it.

“Oh, God, Zach, I’m-” He shuddered. His fingers tightened their grasp on my hair and I swore he was a tremor away from trying to push himself deeper into my mouth, but he held back. Stayed in control. Barely.

His grip relaxed, then tightened. This time, it wasn’t an attempt to get closer. Instead, he stopped me and drew back as much as the bed behind him would allow.

“I need to get a condom on,” he said in a hoarse whisper. It was a good thing I was already on my knees, or the sheer need in his voice would have knocked them out from under me.

I released him and stood, holding the edge of the bed for balance. As he reached for the nightstand drawer, flashes of our last time together flickered through my mind and I shuddered. I’d never experienced anything as hot as that uncontrolled, violent desperation. It didn’t seem possible that what we were about to do would beat what we had done, but somehow I knew it would.

I just knew.

Whatever had steadied Nathan’s hands earlier wasn’t helping now. They shook as he tore the condom wrapper with his teeth. Trembled even more as he rolled the condom on. It took three tries to get the lube bottle open, but he managed. When he looked at me, his lips parted with a ragged breath and his eyes were on fire with lust.

He nodded toward the bed, biting his lip.

“Knees?” I asked.

He shook his head, stroking his cock as he put some lube on it. “On your back. I want to see you this time.”

His lips were against mine before my head hit the pillow. As his tongue parted my lips, his hand moved between us, the telltale down-up shift of elbow and shoulder making me shiver with anticipation a second before his cock touched me. Even as he teased me with the head of his cock-sliding in just a little before pulling back, then again-he kept kissing me. His mouth, much like his hands earlier, was steady and calm. Instead of devouring my mouth, his tongue tasted mine with all the skilled finesse of a wine connoisseur. It was only his sharp, uneven gasps for breath that gave him away as the desperate, horny man that he was.

A low growl vibrated against my lips as he pushed his cock all the way in. Every stroke was long, smooth, letting me feel every ridge and contour of his cock just as I had done with my mouth. The slowness, the gentleness, took my breath away. This was nothing like our first time together. In fact, as far as I could tell in that moment, this was our first time together, because this wasn’t the same Nathan I’d been with before. This wasn’t someone I’d ever touched. Everything about this-him, me, us, now-was different.

The anger from the other night had long since quieted, but the intensity was still there. In fact, this was more intense, this sex that was about us , not him . Whatever had drawn us together this time was hotter, stronger, more powerful, than all the reasons we should have stayed apart.

If his cock were any bigger, it would have been painful no matter how slow he moved, but he was the perfect size. My body may as well have been made for the sole purpose of being fucked by Nathan Forrester, because he knew, found and touched every last sensitive place. He kissed my neck and shoulder like he’d mapped out all the erogenous zones himself. His cock hit every nerve like it was there specifically for him to find. Even the sharp hisses of cool breath-coming in more rapid succession as he thrust faster-touched my skin and nearly set me on fire.

“Jesus, Nathan…” My fingers tried to hold on to his shoulders, but the slick sheen of perspiration kept him out of my grasp. I didn’t want to hinder his movements or break his perfect rhythm, I just needed to touch him. Feel him. Anchor myself in the here and now.

Everything about this was overwhelming, but I just couldn’t get enough. Too much, too little. This may very well kill me, but please, God, don’t let it kill me until it’s over .

“Fuck,” he whispered. He exhaled hard against my neck, his breath cooling my skin a heartbeat before his lips warmed it. “Fuck, you feel so-” He trailed off, moaning softly. Then, just before he kissed me, he finished his thought: “ Right .”

My heart nearly stopped. I’d expected something along the usual lines-good, incredible, great-the same kinds of things I said in the heat of the moment. A moaned confirmation that he was enjoying himself.

“Right” was not what I expected.

“Right” resonated in my mind in ways that “good”, “incredible” and “great” wouldn’t have.