He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand, but then he stopped short and said, “I don’t have any condoms.”
No, of course he didn’t. The last person he’d fucked in this bed was his long-term boyfriend. I tamped down the misplaced jealousy which had flared up at that idea and said, “I have some in my wallet. I’ll go get them.”
I expected him to wait there, but instead he got out of bed with me. As we hurried down the hall, I asked, “Have you had an STD screening since you and your boyfriend broke up?”
“Yeah, I had one as part of my yearly physical last month. All clear.” When we reached the guest room, he ducked into the connected bathroom for a towel. He returned just a few moments later and asked me, “Does this really seem like an ideal time to check your messages?”
I’d picked up my phone instead of my wallet, and when I found what I was looking for I held it up so he could read the screen. “I had an STD screening two weeks ago and was negative across the board. I don’t expect you to believe me, so here’s an email from the clinic with my results. I’d be fine with skipping the condom since we’ve both been tested, but it’s your call.”
He asked, “Are you really willing to take my word for it with my test results?”
“You wouldn’t lie about that. You also wouldn’t lie about only sleeping with two men in over four years, so I figure you’re pretty low-risk to begin with.”
Even though I was trying to act like I was indifferent to his decision, this was actually a big deal to me. I never had unprotected sex, but if this was our last time, I wanted…what exactly? The same thing he’d had with his ex? That wasn’t quite it, and I couldn’t really explain why it mattered to me to take this step with him. It just did.
It made me happy when he told me, “I’m definitely down for that.”
“Great. Now, where were we?”
He pulled me to him and said, “Right about here,” before claiming my mouth with a passionate kiss.
Everything revved right back up in a matter of moments. We climbed onto the bed and began kissing and jerking each other off while Reno worked me open. Once I was ready, he slicked his length before wiping his hands with the towel and tossing it aside. I tried to roll onto my hands and knees, but he picked me up and positioned me on my back, so there was no place to hide.
I held my legs apart for him, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Despite myself, I tensed up when his tip pressed against my hole, but just like our first time he was so patient. “Let yourself relax,” he said. “You’ve got this, baby.” I met his gaze, and he smiled at me as he reached up and brushed my hair back.
I fought back a little whimper when the tip of his thick cock finally slipped inside me. He held still to give me time to adjust and murmured, “That’s it, beautiful. You’re doing great.”
He kept up the gentle pep talk while I concentrated on relaxing my muscles. I didn’t know why I found it surprising that he was exactly the same—just as kind and considerate as the first time we’d done this. What did I think, that he was going to treat me like shit because I’d ripped him off? He wasn’t like that.
Eventually, I opened up enough to take all of him. He slid in balls deep, then almost all the way out again before he began to fuck me. Pretty soon that moment happened, the one where pleasure took the place of discomfort and I was finally able to let go. He began nailing my prostate on each upstroke, and I wrapped my legs around him and rasped, “Harder.”
Reno startled me by picking me up, climbing out of bed, and pushing my back against the wall. In one fluid movement, he impaled me on his cock. And then he gave me exactly what I’d asked for.
I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life as he pounded my ass. There was no question I’d be feeling this for days afterward, but it felt so damn good that I just didn’t care.
When he said, “Look at me, Jack,” I did as he asked. Everything intensified when I met his gaze. I’d never experienced such an overpowering connection with another person, and it flooded me with emotion. I almost didn’t know what to do with everything I felt in that moment. I wanted to laugh and cry, and then I wanted to punch myself in the face, because what the fuck was even happening to me? I needed to get a grip.
Fortunately, my weird little emotional upheaval was quickly overshadowed by the fact that we were, in fact, right in the middle of fucking. Adriano reached between us and started jerking me off, and I stopped thinking about much of anything.
After a while, he muttered, “I’m close,” and started thrusting harder still while using the wall for leverage.
He bit back a yell when he started to come, the muscles in his shoulders flexing under my hands as I held onto him. I blurted, “Fuck, Adriano,” and tumbled over the edge right after him, thrusting into his palm while driving myself even harder onto his cock.
By the time it was over, both of us were shaking. He pivoted around and sat on the edge of the bed with me on his lap, and then he held me securely while we caught our breath.
I didn’t want to let go. Once I did, when would I ever be able to touch him like this? We obviously couldn’t stay this way forever though, so I gave myself thirty seconds to be clingy and needy, and to commit as much of this moment as I could to memory.
Before I climbed off his lap, I took Reno’s face between my palms and kissed him. I put everything I had into that kiss—all I was thinking and feeling, all my needs and wants, just everything.
Then I forced myself to climb off his lap. “We should get going. I know you don’t want to keep your family waiting,” I mumbled, “so I’m going to get cleaned up.” I didn’t look back at him as I walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs.
10
Adriano
Jesus, that kiss.
Everything over the last hour had been intense and unexpected, but that just blew my mind. It reminded me of a kiss between a soldier and his one true love in wartime, right before shipping out with little chance of ever returning.