“All I’m saying is that a life without rimming is no kind of life, Pine.”
It’s possible that Zach is a little drunk. It’s possible that Chris is a lot drunk. There really is no other explanation for how they started out watching a movie and sharing a few beers and somehow made their way around to talking about tongues meeting assholes while the credits roll. It wasn’t even that kind of movie.
“I don’t know, man. It seems pretty...unsanitary.”
Zach’s eye roll is so dramatic that he actually rolls his head a little bit. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” he says, fixing Chris with a pointed look. “I swear, it will change your life.”
“Change my life? Are you seriously getting all philosophical about a sex act involving one person licking another person’s ass?”
“Dude, no sex act sounds good when you describe it. Do you get all hot and bothered if someone talks about sticking penises in vaginas?”
“Okay, fair enough.”
Chris sets his empty beer bottle down among all the other empties on the coffee table and stretches his arms along the back of the couch. Zach is sprawled in a chair, far enough away that this conversation is a lot less uncomfortable than it would be if he was sitting right next to him.
“Trust me, dude. It’s something you have to experience at least once in your life. You could probably convince a chick to do it if you found a good one.”
Chris wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “I doubt it.”
“Then you’re dating the wrong chicks.”
“Or you’re just pushing this way too hard, Zach.”
Zach lets out a long sigh, pushes a hand through his hair, and then stands up. “Alright, we can settle this right now.” Chris’s eyes widen as Zach stalks over to the couch. “I cannot, as your friend, let you go one more day without this experience.”
“Oh my God, Zach. You can’t seriously mean—”
“Yes I do. Hands and knees, Pine.”
Zach certainly looks serious. He even crosses his arms over his chest for good measure, and arches an eyebrow in challenge. Chris is pretty sure this is a really, really bad idea, but at the moment he can’t seem to think of any concrete reasons why that is. It’s just an experiment, right? Just two buddies trying something out, after a few beers, just for the hell of it. This kind of thing happens in college all the time.
Nevermind that Chris is 33 and should have left the experimentation phase behind a long time ago.
“Yeah, okay. But I doubt you’re going to make a believer out of me,” Chris says blithely, as if Zach is asking him to watch some boring arthouse movie, not let him put his mouth on a place that mouths are not meant to go. He manages to maneuver himself onto his hands and knees as Zach requested, though it takes him a moment given that his coordination is a little limited by his alcohol consumption. The couch dips as Zach kneels behind him and places a palm on Chris’s lower back.
“Pants down,” Zach says, his voice a little rough. “Underwear too.”
He’s a bossy fucker, Chris thinks, but he obliges, his fingers fumbling with his belt and his fly for a moment before he straightens up so he can pull his jeans and briefs down to about mid-thigh. Then he falls back down onto his hands. He can feel Zach’s eyes on him, and this is definitely a little bit weird, so he wiggles his ass to ease the tension.
“You need an engraved invitation?”
“Patience, Chris. And scoot forward a little bit.” Zach punctuates the command by slapping Chris’s flank, which makes him yelp and then flush red.
“Easy, dude. I said you could introduce me to rimming, not spanking.” He scrambles forward like he was asked to though, until his fingertips are pressed up against the arm of the couch.
Zach is silent for just a second too long. “Are you kidding? Ass like this and you’ve never been spanked either?”
“Jesus Christ.” Suddenly Chris is second-guessing all of this. “Just...just...either do it or don’t do it, but—”
He is cut off by Zach grabbing him and spreading him open and the sudden sensation of warm breath across his hole, and he very nearly flinches away in shock. He expected Zach to announce when he was going to do something, but apparently they are just jumping right into this. Every muscle in Chris’s body goes tense as he waits for what’s coming, but for long seconds all he feels is Zach’s breath. He shivers.
“Are you going to—”
As if that is the cue Zach was waiting for, suddenly there is wet heat pressing in behind Chris’s balls, and then Zach licks him from taint to tailbone, one long, slow sweep of the tongue that immediately transforms Chris into a bundle of nerve endings.
Zach chuckles, a dark, pleased sound, then does it again. This time Chris gives a full-body shudder and throws one arm up onto the arm of the couch so he can rest his face on it and use it to muffle his groan.
“I told you,” Zach says.
Chris raises his head a little and shakes it. “Don’t get cocky yet. It’s good, but I wouldn’t say it’s life-changing.”
“Get on with it then.” Chris tries not to sound too desperate, but he isn’t sure that he quite succeeds, especially when Zach chuckles again.
Zach’s thumbs scoot inward until they are framing Chris’s entrance, and he spreads him open even further. This time, when he licks, it’s right over his hole, his tongue swirling around the rim and then fighting to wriggle its way past the tight ring of muscle. Chris is still tense, so Zach doesn’t make much headway, but it still feels better than it has any right to. It feels like every sensation in his body is concentrated where Zach’s tongue is touching, and it’s all he can do not to push back into it.
Zach flattens his tongue and licks several slow stripes right across his hole, then stabs with his tongue again, and Chris can’t resist pressing back against him now. He is rewarded with a low sound from Zach that rumbles through him and goes straight to his cock, which has definitely perked up at the proceedings, to say the least.
Chris’s eagerness, and the fact that he is hard enough to pound nails, seems to give Zach encouragement, because he really goes for it now. He pulls back enough to spit right on Chris’s hole, then buries his face between his cheeks and proceeds to lick at him like he is determined to melt that muscle right out of his way so he can get his whole tongue inside. Zach’s five o'clock shadow rasps against Chris’s skin, which probably should be weird, but it only seems to heighten the sensations, making everything feel that much dirtier and that much sexier.
The slick of saliva allows Zach to push the tips of his thumbs into Chris and spread him wide enough that he can get his tongue in deeper. Every once in a while he pulls away for a moment to mouth at the space behind Chris’s balls or nip at his tailbone or set his teeth to the flesh of his ass cheek. Chris is probably going to be embarrassed later, but he can’t seem to keep quiet. He spits curses into the fabric of the couch, groans against his own wrist, and bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from saying Zach’s name.
“Please,” he hears himself say eventually, when it all gets to be too much. “Please.”
“Please what?” Zach speaks right across his entrance, his lips sliding against spit-slick skin. “What do you want?”
“More,” Chris says, because that’s the only answer he can think of. “Just...more.”
And Zach obviously knows what he needs, because a moment later a finger is pushing inside him, sinking in embarrassingly easily now that Chris is relaxed and open and soaking wet. And then Zach’s tongue is back too, sliding in next to the finger. When that finger finds his prostate, Chris can’t hold back his shout. He trembles and grinds back onto Zach’s face, and Zach abandons holding him open in favor of curling one arm around Chris’s thighs and pulling him firmly back against him, holding him still.
“I’m gonna come,” Chris says, stunned. He hasn’t put a hand on himself once, and yet suddenly he is right at the edge, and he knows that it isn’t going to take anything more than just this, just Zach’s tongue and fingers, to pull him over it.
Zach’s mouth is otherwise occupied, so he just groans his encouragement and stabs his tongue deeper, strokes his finger across Chris’s sweet spot again and again. Just hearing that groan might have done it, but all of it combined has Chris cursing as his orgasm tears through him. He clenches around Zach’s finger and tongue and shoots onto the couch cushion beneath him and very nearly collapses into the mess when Zach doesn’t immediately withdraw, just licks and sucks and fingers him through it until he’s hissing from oversensitivity.
Chris’s legs are trembling when Zach finally pulls away, and for a few long moments he can’t move or even think. He just breathes into the arm of the couch and tries to collect himself, tries to form a coherent thought. He is so far gone that he didn’t notice that Zach moved until a hand drops onto his shoulder, and he turns his head just enough to see that Zach is standing over him with a rag in his hand.
“Hey. We should probably clean up your couch before it stains.”
Moving slowly, Chris sits up and pulls his pants back up, tucking himself away, while Zach wipes his come off the couch with the wet rag. The situation would be incredibly weird if Chris had the presence of mind to think about anything other than how sated and buzzed he feels.
Zach disappears again, briefly, to throw the rag in the laundry room, and Chris tips his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling, trying to process what just happened.
“So,” Zach says when he comes back, and Chris lifts his head slowly to peer at him. His face looks flushed and his hair is a mess, but his expression is smug. “Was I right or was I right?”
Chris wants to be able to laugh in his face and tell him he way overhyped it, but it would be the biggest fib he ever told in his life, which is saying something, considering that he’s an actor. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep the grin off his face.
“Okay,” he concedes. “You were right. Life totally changed.”
“I told you.” Zach sinks back into his chair with a huff, drums his fingers on his knee for a moment, and then meets Chris’s eyes.
“So. About the spanking thing…”