Sex with men was different than sex with women.
A self-evident statement, but an appropriate one, given current circumstances. Profit watched as he twisted his fingers and the man spread out before him gasped and clutched at the posts of the headboard, the muscles in his arms bunching.
"Jesus, Jim," Tony gasped. "Are you planning to fuck me any time this year?"
Profit chuckled and crooked his fingers, inspiring Tony to curse and roll his hips, fucking himself on Profit's fingers. "You're assuming I'm only using my fingers to prep you," he admonished. "You ought to know better. Fingers are more dexterous than a dick."
The most important difference was that men were less likely to bring emotion into it. Most women were unable to separate sex from attachment, which made it a useful tool. Men were good at casual sex, which rendered it useless, unless the encounter was somehow taboo. Less important was that Profit enjoyed sex with men more. He rarely engaged in it, of course, but when he did it was easier to generate excitement. Not too easy, or he would've given up the tool.
Fortunately, he'd never had trouble maintaining his clarity of thought, because occasionally he ran into someone like Tony, who was so sexually driven that the best time to coax information out of them was in the afterglow.
"Jim," Tony gasped, "are you paying attention?"
Apparently he'd let his musings run away with him. "Just considering my options," Profit said smoothly. "Should I make you come with my fingers," he twisted them and Tony arched off the bed, "or give you the fucking your body is begging for?"
"Does-" Tony broke off and moaned, a rich sound that sent a wave of satisfaction through Profit. Tony licked at the beads of sweat on his upper lip. "Does my opinion count?"
Profit smiled wickedly. "I might be swayed if you beg nicely." Most men didn't like to beg, but he thought Tony would.
"Would you please fuck me, then?"
Profit shook his head. "I said nicely."
Tony thumped his head against the pillow. "Please fuck me. I-" His voice broke. "God, I want it."
Oh, that was good. Profit could feel his breath shorten, his body interfering with its demands. Still, he held off, just to hear Tony's hoarse pleas, to see his eyes clench shut against his need.
"Jim," Tony whimpered.
Profit withdrew his fingers and watched as Tony caught his breath, his body vibrating. "Relax," Profit commanded, pushing Tony's thighs apart. "I don't want to hurt you." Pain would be counterproductive.
Tony laughed. "Trust me, after all that, you're not gonna hurt me."
If he said so. Profit rolled on a condom and nudged against Tony, who sucked in a breath. He let that breath go in a shuddering moan as Profit slowly pushed into him.
"Jim," Tony panted. "You don't have to go slow. Just fuck me."
"You want fast?" Profit asked. He paused and then drove in fully in one quick, hard thrust.
"Oh!" Tony cried out, body bucking. "God, yes."
Tony was stunningly hot and tight, so much more intense than a woman. It was no hardship to pound into the clutch of his body, to hang onto his upraised knees and roughly fuck him. Tony was so far gone, writhing on sweat-damp sheets, that Profit relaxed a bit, eased up on the analysis and enjoyed the ache of pleasure that tightened his muscles.
It would be finished soon. He'd teased Tony too long for him to last now. Profit watched avidly for the twist of expression that would herald Tony's orgasm.
"Jim!" Tony gasped, and there it was, his thighs cording in sudden tension. He moaned, long and low, as he came.
Profit let his own climax overtake him seconds after Tony's began, closing his eyes involuntarily as gratification swept through him. He groaned, burying himself deeper. The moment of vulnerability passed quickly and Profit opened his eyes to find Tony just relaxing out his arch of fulfillment. Withdrawing, Profit disposed of the condom and lay down before Tony opened his eyes. He was mentally composing his opening line when Tony spoke.
"That was very good." Tony turned and looked Profit in the eye. "And this seems the right moment to tell you that I don't consider an ongoing investigation good pillow talk."
Ah, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.