Griffin whipped off his briefs and crawled up the bed between my legs. I let my knees fall sideways to give him room. He knelt there, pushing my thighs wider. Obediently, I opened myself up to him.
“There you are.” Griffin leaned over me and snagged my dick in a one-handed, hot, callused grip, raising the head to his mouth.
“So good.” I moaned as he sucked me. “But I want to come on your cock.”
He slurped back off me. “You will. Let me taste you first.”
“No fuckingletabout it.” I bucked up toward his mouth, all eager heat and need. There was no room for worrying about how my belly lay or the shape of my thighs when Griffin Marsh was blowing me like he wanted to suck my brains out my dick.
Griffin brought me to the brink twice, till I squirmed and squeezed myself around the base to avoid going off like a rocket. Then he sat back on his heels and grinned. “What do you want? Front, back, knees, I’m easy.”
Nothing about you is easy.But I let the thought slide with Griffin’s laser-heated gaze boring holes in my skin. My breath came short and my dick was so hard I ached. “On my back. I want to see you.”I want to know this is real.
“Lube’s in the drawer to your right.”
I fished out the bottle and passed it to him. Griffin poured out a generous glop and breathed on it to warm it, not taking his eyes off mine. I grabbed my knees and hauled them up and out.
His pupils dilated. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“I’m not shy, and not fragile.”
“No. So strong. I remember that.”
I hadn’t felt strong when he left, two decades ago, but under his hands I did now. He pressed a lube-slick finger to my hole. I breathed out and bore down, and he slipped in with minimal resistance. After a couple of pumps, he pulled out for more lube and came back with two fingers. “Taking me so great. Do you play with toys?”
“A boy’s got to have— nghh— fun. Yeah, right there, like that.” His fingertips nudged my prostate, making me light up inside.
Reading my reactions, he found my sweet spot unerringly, spreading his fingers, rubbing and tapping until I shivered and grunted, clutching my knees. “Any time now.”
“A bit more slick.” He eased his fingers out, squeezed the bottle, and came back with a wet slurp and what felt like three. Nice and tight, but I wanted more.
“Fucking fuck me now.”
Griffin reached over me for the condom, snagging it off the nightstand, and tore the wrapper. He fumbled it over the fat, reddened head of his cock and I teased, “Forgotten how it goes?”
“Lubey fingers,” he muttered. “There.” He rolled the latex all the way down his shaft, then smeared more lube on the outside. When he raised his gaze to meet mine, I thought I might combust from the bare-naked want in his eyes.
I let go of one knee to grab a pillow and stuff it under my ass, then pulled myself wide for him.
“Shit,” he murmured. “Like some fucking fantasy.” Griffin shuffled forward on his knees and brought the tip of his sheathed cock against my hole. Then he braced one hand on my thigh and held his dick steady as he leaned into me. I cursed that I couldn’t pretzel myself the way I used to, to look down and watch the head of his cock breach me. But nothing beat that sensation, the push and stretch, sizzle of pain and electric heat.
I’d forgotten what it was like to be fucked by someone who knew me, who could read me. Griffin gave me the slow, deep pressure I wanted but stopped the instant it became too much. He held still, moving his hand from my thigh to stroke my softened cock. The shivery intense clench of my muscles gave way under that light touch. “Harder,” I grunted. “More.”
He gripped my dick firmly in his lube-slick hand and by the third stroke, tip to root, I began bucking up with my hips, trying to seat Griffin deeper inside me.
“Ready?” He let go of my dick and pushed my thighs up, changing the angle. Fireworks sparked inside me as his cock dragged across my prostate.
“Yeah, there, go.”
Griffin answered me with a hard drive that brought his hips against my ass and forced a grunt from my chest.
“That. More.” My eyelids had drifted shut and I opened them to see him, Griffin, all azure eyes and beard-shadowed jaw and broad shoulders and callused hands, fucking me in his bed. He stared down and I knew he was watching his cock slide in and out of me as he pumped, slowly at first, then faster. I imagined it, his shiny rigid shaft and my clinging asshole stretching to take him.
Griffin picked up the pace, fucking me in earnest now. My world was sweat and lube, stretch and spark, gasp and groan. In, and in, again and again. His hands braced my thighs and I let go of one knee to grab my cock. My fuck-scattered brain didn’t have the coordination to jerk off, but I closed my fist and let Griffin’s pounding rhythm drive my straining dick through my fingers.
Bits of me lit up like a pinball machine, rim and balls, ass and cock, prostate and slit, his touch and mine together in a maelstrom that drove me trembling higher and higher… I tipped off the cliff, shouting without words, spilling pulses of spunk between my fingers. Jizz hit my chest, my beard, my nose. My hands jittered like I’d grasped a live wire.
Griffin began chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath as he slammed into me. Aftershocks made me writhe and clench.He groaned long and hard and stilled, drilled so deep I almost felt him in my throat. His hips stuttered against my ass and his fingers whitened on my thighs. A drop of sweat rolled off his forehead and landed on my belly as he shuddered.
