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“Just relax, Mr. Joestar. Don’t worry about doing anything… I’ll take care of you.”
Speedwagon only paused for a moment in the process of leaving dozens of red marks up and down Jonathan’s neck. The taller man was stiff as a board, all wound up and nervous. Frankly, it came as a surprise when Jonathan had confessed that he’d never done anything even remotely sexual with anyone, let alone another man.
Handsome, articulate, strong, and wealthy to boot, it was unbelievable to imagine that he hadn’t bedded any of the girls that had to have been throwing themselves at him. But, like any articulate, sheltered rich boy, he’d been raised to believe that sex before marriage was a Very Bad Thing.
Speedwagon, however, was born and raised on the streets and by the the streets in the far-off slums of England, a fair distance from Jonathan’s upbringing that couldn’t just be measured in kilometers. There wasn’t much that struck him as “sacred,” and especially not something as mundane as one’s own body. As long as nobody got hurt, he didn’t see any issue with sharing a bed with a friend now and then. He thought he and Jonathan were pretty good friends by now. Jonathan seemed comfortable enough to be alright with giving him his virginity, even if he was a little clueless on how to go about it.
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“Right, just dip your fingers in this, make sure they’re good and slick, and then stick one in. It’s just olive oil.”
“Er, won’t that hurt terribly?”
Speedwagon shrugged. “I mean… I guess it might for some people, but I’m sort of used to it.”
Jonathan still looked a bit unconvinced, so he took the jar from him.
“I’ll show you, and then you can do it, yeah?”
The blond took the lid off and dipped three fingers into the greenish oil, swirling them around to get them fully coated. Then he laid back and drew his knees up and apart, giving Jonathan a good, clear view of his ass and groin.
“Just watch. It doesn’t hurt.”
His finger sank in up to the knuckle without any resistance, eased greatly by the slippery oil. He thrust it in and out of his hole slowly at first, then faster. Another finger was added and he curled both of them up to drag against his inner walls, biting back a groan when he grazed past his prostate. Jonathan watched him with rapt attention, blushing like a schoolgirl, but focused like a med student watching a dissection.
“What was that?” He asked, noticing the change in Speedwagon’s breathing.
“Don’t know. There’s just something in there that feels really– ah, it feels really good if you hit it just right.”
“… Can I do it now?”
“Go ahead.”
Jonathan settled on his knees between Speedwagon’s legs and carefully replaced his fingers with his own. He moved them around experimentally. It was hot and slick inside, and tight around his digits. Not at all unpleasant– especially when he imagined his cock sliding into that heat.
“Like this?”
“Yeah, just like that. Try hooking your fingers upward– f-fuck yes, that’s it, right there–!”
The way Speedwagon reacted was mesmerizing to watch. Every time Jonathan rubbed against that spot (and he could feel it now, a little bump inside) his hips jerked up and he let out a breathy moan.
“Can I put another one in?”
“Yeah— please, Jonathan…”
He stroked himself lazily, squeezing around the head and pulling the foreskin down over it. His thumb traced the underside of the crown a few times, stopping for a moment when Jonathan inserted a third finger and started pushing them in and out. He seemed to be catching on well, taking cues from Speedwagon’s movement and breathing to figure out what he liked best.
He’d be a fantastic husband someday for sure. Maybe a little too good.
Speedwagon cinched his fingers tight around the base of his cock all of a sudden and batted Jonathan’s hands away.
“O-oh~kay, stop there.” He panted.
“D-did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I..?”
Jonathan truly looked crushed. He’d punched vampires so hard their skulls caved in, and yet he was afraid that he might have injured his friend with a few fingers.
Speedwagon snorted. “No, no, you’re fine, mate. You’re real good. I just don’t wanna spend just yet.”
“O-oh. So now…”
“Now’s the real thing.” Speedwagon sat up and waited patiently for Jonathan to get over his stage fright and finally unbutton his pants. As he pulled his arousal from its confines, Speedwagon’s eyes widened.
“Good god, it’s a miracle you can even walk with that thing!” Speedwagon blurted out.
Jonathan gasped as his friend wrapped his hand around the thick shaft.
“It’s heavy, too… Kinda intimidating…”
“I-is it alright? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me…”
“I can take it. Christ, I really want it in me now. Just lie back and let me do all the work, and you’re not gonna hurt me.”
He guided Jonathan’s shoulders down flat and retrieved the jar of oil again. He poured it generously over the brunet’s erect cock, making him shiver and squirm a little. Then he straddled his hips and guided the tip to his entrance, chuckling nervously.
“Don’t think I’ve ever took one this big, but I’ve had a lot worse pain than a rod up the arse." He mused, grinding down his shaft.
"Got kicked by a horse once, split my gut open pretty bad. That was all fine and dandy, ‘til it festered. This ain’t so bad.”
“S-somehow, that’s not comforti–NG–!!”
Jonathan’s sentence broke off into a high keen as Speedwagon lowered himself down. His hands shot out to grab his hips– whether to stop him or push him down further, he didn’t know. Either way, the blond kept going until he was fully seated on his dick, and sighed heavily as he felt himself bottom out completely. Jonathan’s eyes were stuck to the ceiling, barely even processing what little there was to see up there. God, he didn’t think he could live himself if he came before they even got started, but the tight, wet heat sheathing him was unlike anything he’d felt before.
“Shit…” Speedwagon grunted, taking back Jonathan’s attention. “Mate, I’m not gonna be the last one to say this, and you’re gonna get pretty sick of hearing it after a while, but you’re fucking huge. I can’t even…”
“Are you okay? S-sorry, you can get off if it’s painful, I really won’t mind!”
Speedwagon snickered at that, giving Jonathan a light smack in the head.
“You’re a fine gentleman, Mr. Joestar. Gonna make a lucky girl a real happy wife someday. Now shut the hell up and let me ride you.”
It wasn’t too difficult to follow that command once he started to move, lifting up just a couple inches before coming back down again. He couldn’t quite form words from his own moans, though he still looked on with great concern at the different expressions Speedwagon made. Pain, at first, then just exertion and a bit of discomfort as he tried to find the right angle and rhythm, and finally ecstasy once he had settled into it. It was truly fascinating, and Jonathan couldn’t tear his eyes away if he wanted to. He raised a hand up to caress the blond’s flushed and slightly sweaty face, and he nuzzled against it, cracking his eyes open just a little.
“How– ah– How’re y-you feeling, Jo--natha-nn--?”
His voice wavered and staggered as he bounced in his lap, jerking himself off with one hand while the other held onto Jonathan’s shoulder for balance. He resisted a bit when the other man slung an arm around his neck, trying to steady himself as he dragged him down. It was almost laughable how simply and chastely Jonathan kissed, like a boy kissing his mother on the cheek. Speedwagon smiled against his lips and guided the man’s wide hands to his hips. Luckily, it didn’t take any instruction for Jonathan to take over the rhythm, thrusting up into him even harder than before. With his hands free, he could cup Jonathan’s face with both of them and coax his lips to part and let him in.
It was a little weird at first for Jonathan, feeling a tongue that wasn’t his own exploring his mouth. It was a bit like a very friendly slug, though that really wasn’t a very romantic thought. He pushed it aside and focused more on trying to reciprocate. It was sloppy, as expected, and Speedwagon tasted heavily of cheap tobacco, but overall it added just another layer of intimacy.
“It f-feels– nn, it feels r-really good– ah..!”
Jonathan choked out, hiding his embarrassed face in Speedwagon’s shoulder. He felt bad for it, but he couldn’t stop himself from pounding in and out of the man, despite still worrying about hurting him. Speedwagon didn’t seem to mind much, though. He clung to Jonathan’s broad shoulders for dear life, seemingly content to be manhandled and used as some obscene plaything. His cock was sandwiched between their joined bodied and rubbed against Jonathan’s abs with each thrust without him even touching it.
He was far beyond any ability to form words anymore. He just moaned and grunted and whimpered as Jonathan fucked him hard, fast and brutal, running purely on animal instinct rather than any particular prowess. The sheer size of him, stuffing Speedwagon full and stretching him wide open, made up for his lack of skill. He was so utterly overwhelmed with pleasure that his orgasm took him by surprise. He came hard across Jonathan’s abdomen, wailing like a wounded beast and digging his nails into his biceps. His ass contracted and clenched tighter around Jonathan’s arousal with each wave of euphoria. With a few more erratic thrusts and a strangled moan, the brunet followed suit. Speedwagon could only whimper weakly as he felt thick, liquid heat fill him to the brim, too fucked-out to do anything but act like a ragdoll. Semen leaked from his abused hole when Jonathan’s softened cock slipped out and landed against his thigh with a wet plop.
“J-je-s-sus c-christ… ho-holy shit…” Speedwagon wheezed, gathering just enough strength to roll off of Jonathan’s chest and flop onto the space next to him on the mattress. His body was still jittery and over-sensitive to every little touch.
“Uhm… W-was… Er, was it okay?” Jonathan asked sheepishly, rolling onto his side to look at him.
Speedwagon didn’t even turn his head to look at him; he just blindly stretched an arm out and let it thump down on Jonathan’s face.
“No, it was horrible,” He joked, yawning. “I need to sleep for about a month after that…”
“I don’t think that’s healthy…” Jonathan tried to protest, but fatigue was starting to weigh him down too. He gave up, curled his body around Speedwagon’s, and dozed off. A month’s worth of sleep sounded pretty good, actually.