The Second Coming

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When we got back to Michael’s I felt pretty tipsy from all the drinks I’d had. I tripped over the doormat and almost fell. He caught me.

“Easy…” he said. He unlocked the door and helped me inside. He closed it behind us and looked at me, assessing.

“What?” I said. A hearty belch escaped me. “’Scuse me.” I snorted, laughing at my own gracelessness.

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to top me tonight.”

“Chickening out?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just taking a rain check.” He helped me out of my boots as I leaned on him.

“S-sorry. It just caught up with me all of a sudden. S’been quite a day.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He straightened up and I reached for his belt.

“Yeah, but I’m not ready to sleep yet…” I fumbled with his buckle.

He took off his jacket. “Jack, wait. Let’s get inside at least…” he pushed my hands away and walked into the living room, switching on some lamps.

“Michael,” I said calmly, still standing by the door. I gave him the sternest look I could manage in my slightly drunken state. “If your cock isn’t inside me in the next ten minutes I can’t be responsible for what I might do. If you don’t want me to top you tonight then whip out that huge motherfucker and do me for Christ’s fucking sake…”

He stared at me, his mouth open. His eyes burned with lust. He looked fierce, suddenly, and as eager as I. “You want to do it here or in the bedroom?”

I moved toward where he stood by the black leather armchair. “Fuck, Michael, I’m not gonna make it to the bedroom.”

When I got near enough, he grabbed me. He pulled me against him, kissing me with his own desperate need. I felt his huge cock pressed, hard as steel, against me.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away. He turned me roughly so I was facing the chair. “You want me to fuck you over this chair?” he said, his voice shaky but determined.

“Fuck, yeah…” I felt his hands on my flies, undoing my jeans and tugging them down.

He pushed me so that I fell forward onto the chair. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

My whole body shook with need as I waited breathlessly for his return. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted him. And I didn’t want him to be gentle.

He returned soon. He’d taken off his shirt and socks. His grey slacks had the belt open and the top button undone. I could see how fucking hard he was.

He put the condom and bottle of lube on the side table. I felt his hands on my back, pushing my shirt up. “Fuck you look good like this…”

I felt his lips on the skin of my back. His hands slid along my sides to my hips. It felt exquisite. “Shit…You’re running out of time, Michael.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to threaten me.” He slapped me hard on my ass, making me shout, “Jesus!”

His warm hand caressed my ass, soothing it. “Was that too hard?”

I shook my head frantically. “No, that was fucking perfect. Do it again.”

He did. I groaned and pounded the chair with my fist. “Oh, fuck!”

“You really like that, don’t you?” He spanked me again.

“Yes… yeah… oh fuck, Michael…” I heard his breath come harshly as he spanked me a few more times.

“Oh fuck…” he said, “This is so hot…”

My ass burned but the heat radiated through my body. My cock leaked and twitched in response to the slaps.

“You have to stop or I’m gonna come before you even start fucking me…” I moaned, my voice breathless and desperate.

He grabbed the condom and lube. Soon I felt his slippery fingers in my crack, readying me.

Suddenly, his hot breath caressed my ear. He whispered, “Come for me, beautiful boy…” and I lost it.

The orgasm screamed through me. I heard my cries as if someone else were making them. I floated and fell and shattered into pieces. My cock exploded and I yelled like a fucking girl.

“Jesus!” Michael exclaimed. He stilled deep inside me and found his own release, shaking and trembling against me, yelling and cursing unintelligibly.

His orgasm seemed to go on forever while I kept seeing stars and planets and fucking galaxies. When I came back to earth, I felt his weight on me. I felt his heart hammering in his chest, matching mine beat for fucking beat, and I had never felt so connected to another person. His hands rested on my hips, his sweaty cheek against my shoulder.

After a few minutes, he said. “What… what the fuck was that…”

I groaned as an aftershock of pleasure coursed through me. “I don’t know…” I started laughing. I couldn’t stop. I laughed so hard that tears started forming.

~ Elizabeth Lister, The Crush, MLR Press 2011

 

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