Thursday, November 6, 2014
“I’m not surprised the only way to shut you up is to put a cock in your mouth,” Andres said, his large body heavy on top of Riley as he fucked him into his narrow dormitory bed.
Riley moaned around his cock-shaped gag. He couldn’t stop sucking on the silicone, rubbing his tongue along the underside the way he would a real cock.
“Your roommates know you’re getting fucked in here, you know.” Andres slowed his pace, pushing deep into Riley’s ass with every lazy thrust. “They know you’re on your back with your legs in the air, getting stuffed with cock like a filthy slut.”
Riley’s calves were hooked over Andres’ massive tattooed arms, his hands clutching Andres’ rock-hard shoulders. He was splayed open, helpless, and the thought of being seen this way had him shivering and sucking harder on his gag.
“But that’s why you called me out here, isn’t it?” Andres murmured. He lowered himself from his hands to his elbows, which put even more of his weight on Riley and shoved Riley’s knees up to his own shoulders. “You wanted them to see me. You wanted them to watch me bring you in here, knowing you begged me to come all the way to Cambridge to take care of that needy boypussy.”
Of course, the real reason they were hooking up on a random Thursday night was that Riley’s parents were flying in the next day for Freshman Parents’ Weekend, and they wouldn’t have another chance for a few days. The narrative Andres was spinning was much more exciting, though.
Whimpering around his gag, Riley pushed his hips up, trying to get Andres to fuck him harder. He had about as much hope of moving Andres against his will as he did of lifting a car with his bare hands, and the utter futility of his attempt just excited him further.
Andres punished him by ceasing his thrusts altogether; instead, he circled his hips in a languid grind that was sheer torture, smirking at Riley’s shrill whine.
“Good thing I brought that gag with me, huh? Otherwise, your roommates would be telling everyone on your floor all about how you scream like a whore when you’re taking my big cock.”
Riley’s eyelids fluttered. He dragged his hands down Andres’ shoulders and over his chest, kneading at the muscles there, trying to communicate his desperation.
Andres responded by rocking his hips, giving Riley a bit more of what he needed. “You gonna be a good whore for me, baby?”
Nodding frantically, Riley looked up at Andres with beseeching eyes. He gripped Andres’ waist with both hands, tipped his head back, and arched his spine, showing with his body what the gag wouldn’t let him say aloud.
“Yeah,” Andres said, suddenly breathless. He pushed himself back up on his hands. “That’s it, gorgeous, give that pussy up for me – ”
As Andres’ aggressive thrusts drove Riley into the mattress, the gag turned out to have been a very wise choice indeed.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
“That game was an out-and-out massacre,” Riley’s father William said, slicing into his steak. “I was actually embarrassed for Columbia.”
“Hey,” said his mother, Elizabeth, who was a graduate of Columbia herself.
“45-0 is pretty humiliating,” she admitted.
Riley shook his head, amused. Naturally, the football game scheduled for Parents’ Weekend had to be Harvard vs. Columbia, pitting his parents’ respective alma maters against each other. The two of them had been ribbing each other about it all day, and Riley was pretty sure they had some kind of private bet going on that he didn’t want to consider too closely.
Following the game, they’d gone out to dinner with Tim and his parents at The Blue Room, an eclectic restaurant in Cambridge with exposed brick walls and a chill, friendly vibe. It was kind of early for dinner, but Riley didn’t have much time before he had to be at warm-ups for the Harvard-Radcliffe Orchestra concert that night.
“Harvard football’s been killing it all season,” said Tim. “Eight games and still undefeated. Could you please pass the salt, Dr. Sun?”
As she handed Tim the saltshaker, Elizabeth said, “You can call me Elizabeth, honey.”
Though Tim smiled and nodded, Riley knew he never would. His parents were much more formal than Riley’s, and he wasn’t the type to feel comfortable addressing a friend’s parents by their first names, the way Riley had grown up doing.
While they ate, they dissected the game – which truly had been a slaughter – play-by-play. Riley didn’t have much interest in team sports, but he’d enjoyed the high energy and camaraderie of the packed stadium, and he thought it was cute that his parents had worn their matching “Harvard Dad” and “Harvard Mom” shirts.
Conversation eventually turned from the game to the upcoming concert. “Remind me which instrument you play, Riley?” Tim’s mother asked.
Riley swallowed his mouthful of wood-grilled tuna. “Cello,” he said.
“Oh, what a lovely instrument.”
“Been playing since he was four,” William said, smiling at Riley across the table. “Shelf full of awards, performed at the Kennedy Center in high school – ”
“Dad,” Riley said with an embarrassed duck of his head. “Come on.”
Tim nudged Riley’s shoulder. “You nervous?”
“Not really,” said Riley. He relished the thrill of anticipation before a big event, whether a concert or a race or a major test. His parents had always set high standards for him, and Riley lived to be challenged, loved the warm glow of pride and accomplishment that came from knocking goals down one after the other.
“He never gets nervous,” Tim said to his parents, his voice tinged with fond exasperation.
Riley grinned at the irony of that statement coming from Tim, who was one of the most relaxed, laidback people he’d ever met.
A few minutes later, Riley excused himself to the restroom; as he came back out, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He unlocked the screen to find a text from Andres.
Would you enjoy wearing nipple clamps?
Riley stopped short right outside the bathroom. He stared at the phone for a second, then stepped up against the wall, out of the way of the people going in and out of the restroom doors.
He’d tried nipple clamps before, with mixed results, so he texted back, Depends on the type of clamps. Why?
I have a pair with bells on them that would look good on you. I was thinking about how the bells would ring like crazy while I fucked you.
Riley’s nipples stiffened underneath his shirt as if they’d been pinched. He darted a quick glance around, but nobody was paying attention to him. Before he could answer, though, Andres sent him another text right on the heels of the previous one.
I also have a weighted pair that’s perfect for doggy-style, but I don’t think you’re ready for those. We’d have to work our way up to them.
I’m at dinner with my parents! Riley texted. God, he was getting hard. He had a semi right out in the open in a restaurant with his parents less than fifty feet away.
Then you’re being very rude right now, came Andres’ reply.
Riley rolled his eyes. I’m outside the restroom.
Good. Then you can tell me if you want me to play with your nipples more. I don’t think I torture them enough.
Shifting against the wall, Riley rubbed a hand over the back of his flushed neck. He enjoyed nipple play as much as the average guy – it wasn’t a huge kink of his – but right now, having Andres text him about it, he was suddenly aching for Andres’ hands and mouth on them.
Yes. I want you to suck them while you finger…
Riley hesitated, his thumbs hovering over the screen. Though he liked the mild feminization he and Andres played around with, he was still tentative to initiate it himself. There was always the thought in the corner of his brain that it was vaguely misogynistic to feel a thrill of humiliation when Andres described him as having a pussy or a cunt.
It was a private kink between the two of them, however, so did it really need to carry a deeper meaning than the fact that it turned them both on? Maybe he was overthinking this.
I want you to suck them while you finger my pussy, Riley typed, and sent the text before he could second-guess himself.
“Riley?” his mother said.
Riley startled and looked up, shoving his phone into his pants pocket on pure reflex.
“You’ve been gone for a while,” Elizabeth said, speaking Korean now, as she usually did when she and Riley were alone. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, sorry, everything’s fine.”
Elizabeth glanced from Riley’s pink face to his pocket and back again. “Who were you texting?”
“Nobody,” Riley said, and then cringed internally at how unconvincing it came out. “I mean, nobody important. A guy.”
“Anyone I’ve heard about?”
“No. It’s just some guy I’ve been talking to.”
An elderly white woman with tightly curled hair scowled at them as she passed, muttering under her breath about China. Riley and Elizabeth both glared at her until she sniffed and continued on her way into the ladies’ room.
Turning back to Riley, Elizabeth said, “I thought you didn’t want to start dating so soon after you and Dylan broke up.”
“We’re not dating,” Riley said quickly. “We just hang out sometimes.”
“Uh-huh,” said Elizabeth, unimpressed. “Is he a freshman, too?”
“He doesn’t go to Harvard; he’s older.” As she raised her eyebrows, Riley added, “He’s only twenty-four, Mom. It’s not a big deal. He’s a cop in Boston – he’s a really good guy, actually.”
A six-year age difference wouldn’t bother Riley’s parents now that he was an adult, though he knew better than to ever tell them about some of the much older men he’d slept with. His parents had always been liberal and sex-positive, but not so much that they’d be complacent about their son having sex with men their age or even older.
“As long as he’s treating you well,” Elizabeth said. She squeezed Riley’s arm. “You should get back to the table now, okay? You don’t want to be rude.”
“I will. Sorry.”
As his mother slipped into the bathroom, Riley pulled out his phone to check it one more time.
You’re just asking to get wrecked the next time I see you, Andres had texted.
Riley texted him the thumbs-up emoji, followed it with all four pointing finger emojis just to be a dick, and then returned to the table with a smile on his face.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
“I’m dying,” Riley said, falling dramatically through the door of Andres’ apartment.
“You’re the one who wanted to go on a bike tour of Boston in mid-November,” Andres said, closing and locking the door behind them.
“It’s really nice out!” Riley protested.
After the first snowfall of the season had melted, the weather had grown much milder, and today had dawned cool and sunny – perfect bike-riding weather. The two-and-a-half-hour tour they’d taken through the city had been great; it hadn’t been until after they’d stopped moving, when Riley's sweat was drying in the sharp cold wind, that discomfort had set in.
Still, it had been worth it for the chance to ogle Andres’ massive thighs and sculpted ass in bike shorts.
Shivering now, Riley pressed himself up against Andres’ chest, breathing in the scent of clean, fresh sweat. “I’m freezing.”
“Doesn’t it get really cold in D.C.?” Andres asked, wrapping his arms around Riley’s back.
“Sure, but Boston is in a league of its own.”
“Well, let’s get you into a hot shower, then.” Andres grabbed a handful of Riley’s ass and squeezed as he steered him towards the bedroom.
They stripped out of their damp clothes in the bathroom and got in the shower together, making out lazily under the spray. Riley was in an excellent mood, riding the endorphin high from the exercise and looking forward to an afternoon of satisfying sex; he hadn’t made any plans for the rest of the day, hoping to spend a few hours being fucked silly.
Despite the many upsides of having Andres naked and soaking wet, however, he wasn’t the ideal person to share a shower with. His large body took up most of the space in the tub, and when he stood under the showerhead, he blocked the water from reaching Riley entirely.
To compensate, Andres let Riley have the lion’s share of the water first. He scrubbed them both down with a soapy washcloth, doing an admirable job of ignoring Riley’s best attempts to distract him by playing with his hardening cock.
When he’d finished, Andres tossed the washcloth aside and picked up a bottle of what Riley assumed was body wash – until Andres pushed a slippery finger up inside his hole.
Riley sucked in a breath, instinctively spreading his legs wider, though he could only get them so far apart in the shower. He squinted at the bottle’s label through the steam.
“What are you doing?” Riley asked, a teasing note in his voice as he rocked back against Andres’ finger.
“Getting you clean, obviously,” Andres said.
“You can’t put soap up here.” Andres slid his finger in deeper. “The tissue is very delicate. Very… sensitive.”
He punctuated his statement by thrusting a second finger inside to join the first. Riley groaned and grabbed Andres’ waist to steady himself, his head falling forward against Andres’ collarbone. He mouthed mindlessly at Andres’ slick chest while Andres pumped his fingers in and out of his hole.
Andres closed his free hand around Riley’s swollen cock, giving it a couple of slow strokes. “You really like being fingered,” he said.
Like didn’t even begin to cover it, but Riley was too turned on to manage anything beyond an enthusiastic, “Mmm.”
“Some bottoms don’t, you know. They like the way a cock feels, but fingers annoy them.”
“They’re two different sensations,” said Riley. “I love both. But you could put almost anything inside me and I’d get off on it, honestly.”
Chuckling, Andres pressed a kiss to Riley’s head and said, “That’s good to know.” He released Riley’s cock and retrieved a bottle of shampoo from the shelf without ever taking his fingers out of Riley’s ass. “Here, wash your hair.”
“You just want me to smell like your shampoo,” Riley said as he popped the bottle open.
“Yeah,” Andres said, completely unabashed.
Washing his hair while Andres continued fingering him was difficult, but Riley was sinking into the deep, warm pool of subspace now, and he was determined to obey. He bit his lip and worked the shampoo through his hair, the water cascading over his back and shoulders magnifying every brush of Andres’ body against his own.
As Riley closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rinse out the shampoo, Andres withdrew his fingers and moved away. Riley heard the rustling of bottles being moved around, but before he could open his eyes, Andres was tugging him forward and slipping behind him, trading places. When Riley tried to turn around, Andres caught his shoulders and made him face forward.
Then Andres pushed Riley’s upper body forward, hitched up his hips, and slid his cock into Riley’s ass without saying a word.
Lust slammed into Riley like running headfirst into a brick wall. He was so shocked and aroused that for a few moments he could do nothing but stand still, awkwardly half-bent over, while Andres eased his cock deeper inside.
Andres must have put a condom on while Riley’d had his eyes closed. He’d planned this in advance – stashing the supplies in the shower, making sure Riley was distracted, arranging everything so that he could give Riley the experience of being taken this way, like he was just a hole to fuck whose opinion on the matter was inconsequential.
“You can’t…” Riley’s voice shivered and cracked with desire. “You can’t just stick your dick in me without asking!”
“Looks like I can,” Andres said. He pulled out halfway and then thrust back in, grunting his pleasure.
Riley had zero defenses against this sort of nonchalant dominance. “I’m not a toy,” he said, one feeble last-ditch effort to avoid an immediate and unconditional surrender.
Andres just laughed and smacked his ass.
The blow stung more on wet flesh, and Riley gave up any hope of pretending that he didn’t want this. He braced his hands against the wall, moaning, his back bowing in a slutty arch.
They’d fucked standing up their very first time, back when they hadn’t even known each other’s names, though their height difference made it a tricky proposition. Riley lifted one foot onto the corner of the bathtub to help, trusting that Andres wouldn’t let him slip.
Andres’ bulky body prevented any of the water from reaching Riley, but enough steam had built up in the shower by now to keep him warm. He let out gasping moans as Andres yanked his ass back and forth on his cock like a fleshlight, an aggressive, demeaning pace that made Riley dizzy with submission. His own neglected cock bounced between his legs, slapping against his wet abdomen.
Andres wasn’t going to let him come this time; Riley could tell from the way he was avoiding prostate stimulation. He didn’t protest or beg, just allowed himself to be used, groaning together with Andres when he shoved in balls-deep and came, spanking Riley several more times for good measure.
“Good boy,” Andres said. He released Riley’s hips and pulled out.
Riley stayed where he was, bent over with one foot propped up on the tub, vulnerable and on display.
Andres rubbed two fingers over Riley’s swollen hole. “I love the way your pussy gapes after I fuck you,” he said.
Riley whimpered and pushed his ass back against the touch, but Andres was done playing with him for now. He shut off the shower and helped Riley out onto the bathmat, wrapping a towel around his own waist before he began drying Riley off. His hands were gentle but firm as he rubbed Riley down one limb at a time, bypassing Riley’s cock altogether.
Once Riley was dry, Andres tossed the towel aside and said, “If I turn the heat up a little, will you be warm enough to stay undressed?”
“Yes, sir,” Riley said. His earlier chill was a distant memory now.
“Okay. You can tell me if you get cold, and of course you can always safeword, but other than that, I don’t want you to speak again unless I give you permission.” Andres lifted Riley’s chin and met his eyes. “Asking you a yes-or-no question does not constitute permission to speak. Do you understand?”
Andres smiled, proud and appreciative. “Very good.” He leaned down to press a kiss to Riley’s lips. As he drew back, he murmured, “And if I see you touch that little twink dick, I’m not going to let you come the next time I fuck you, either.”
This time, Riley’s nod had a frantic edge.
Placing one hand on the small of Riley’s back, Andres led him into the bedroom to stand at the foot of the bed. “Hands on the bed,” he said. “Show me a nice pretty pose, all right?”
Eager to please, Riley put his hands flat on the mattress. He spread his legs as wide as he could, then strained his back into an exaggerated arch, thrusting his ass up in the air.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart.” Andres fondled Riley’s ass, squeezing one cheek and giving it a light slap. “Stay like that. Don’t move.”
Riley maintained his position while Andres left the bedroom. The central heating kicked on with a soft hum, and Andres came back a couple of minutes later, discarding his towel and dressing in a T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Then he rummaged around in the closet and returned to Riley’s side with a plug in one hand.
“This is going inside you,” Andres said, turning the plug from side to side so Riley could see it from all angles.
Riley moaned helplessly. The thick plug was eight inches of black silicone, ribbed from top to bottom with pronounced, raised ridges. Delaying his orgasm was torture enough without adding a gorgeous toy like this into the mix.
Holding the plug against Riley’s mouth, Andres said, “Suck on it. Show me how much you want this filling up your cunt.”
The plug was too thick to suck comfortably, but Riley did his best. His eyes fell shut as he rubbed his tongue along the textured surface, his lips stretched wide around its girth, anticipating how good the plug would feel when he had it where he really needed it.
“That’s enough,” Andres said hoarsely. He pulled the toy out of Riley’s mouth, slick and dripping with saliva, and moved aside to coat it with lube. Then he stood behind Riley, one strong hand on Riley’s back while he eased the plug inside.
Riley panted throughout the slow, intense penetration. He could feel each and every ridge as they popped into his hole and then pressed against him from the inside, massaging his sensitive flesh. Halfway through, he had to drop to his elbows and bury his face in the bed, biting down on the comforter to keep from shouting out loud.
“There we go,” Andres said when the plug was seated snugly inside Riley, its flared base nestled against his rim. He tapped the base hard enough to make Riley yelp, then kneaded Riley’s asscheeks. “Feel good, baby?”
Riley nodded, his face still hidden in the comforter.
Oh, God. Riley had to take a few deep breaths before he pushed himself upright. The plug shifted inside him, the stiff ridges teasing him everywhere, and a strangled whine escaped his throat.
“Come on, I’ll make us some lunch.” Andres slipped an arm around Riley’s waist and walked him towards the door.
Riley only made it a couple of steps before his knees buckled under a wave of pleasure so overwhelming that he broke out in a sweat. Andres caught and steadied him.
“I know you can walk with a plug inside,” Andres said, with a note of reproach. “You do it all the time.”
That was true; Riley had been wearing a plug the night they’d met, and sometimes he wore one to class or while he was out running errands, just for the thrill of it. The plugs he used for those purposes were smaller than this one, though, and more to the point, they weren’t fucking ribbed.
If only he weren’t already so close to the edge – that was the problem, that he was so distracted by his throbbing balls and painfully hard cock. Riley looked down at himself and then up at Andres, his eyes pleading.
“No,” said Andres. “Be a good boy for me, Riley. You can do it.”
He started walking again, and Riley had no choice but to follow along, his body flushed and trembling.
Out in the main room of the apartment, the blinds were drawn over all the windows, which they hadn’t been when Riley and Andres had first arrived. The thought that he might be seen through the large windows hadn’t even occurred to Riley, but it had to Andres, and he’d already taken care of it.
Riley was in such a deeply submissive state by that point that this proof of Andres’ thoughtful dominance alone almost sent him to his knees. He held it together somehow and hobbled out to the kitchen, where Andres let him lean against the breakfast bar while he fetched a pillow from the couch and turned the television on, flipping to the classic rock music station.
“Kneel on this,” Andres said, setting the big square pillow on the floor at the edge of the bar.
Riley lowered himself to his knees, then gingerly sat back on his heels, placing his palms flat against his thighs at Andres’ command. When he held himself still like this, the plug wasn’t overly stimulating, though that didn’t do much to alleviate the pain of his unflagging erection.
He knelt on his cushion, naked and hard and stuffed with a thick toy, while Andres cooked them lunch. Andres carried on a casual, one-sided conversation as he moved around the kitchen, detouring every now and then to stroke Riley’s cheek or card his fingers through Riley’s hair. Too dazed with submissive lust to track the passage of time, Riley was vaguely surprised when Andres relocated them to the living room, sitting on the couch with Riley kneeling at his feet.
Andres changed the TV channel to SportsCenter and cracked open a bottle of beer. He’d cut the vegetable quesadillas he’d made into bite-sized pieces, which he fed to Riley by hand. Riley ate obediently, taking small sips from a water bottle whenever it was offered to him; he understood without needing to be told that he wasn’t to use his hands, so they stayed in his lap.
He didn’t know what suddenly broke his self-control. Andres didn’t say or do anything different, but between one moment and the next, a switch flipped and Riley hit his limits.
“Yellow,” he said, pressing himself against Andres’ leg.
Andres glanced down at Riley’s groin and smiled. “Do you need to come, baby?”
His fingers digging into his own thighs, Riley nodded.
“Beg me nicely, and we’ll see.”
“Please,” Riley said, taking full advantage of the permission to speak. “Please, sir, I need to come. It hurts so much, please, I can’t wait anymore, I’m sorry, please, please, please let me come – ”
“All right,” Andres said, and Riley sobbed with relief. “You lasted much longer than I thought you would. Come up on my lap and I’ll take care of you.”
Riley barely waited for Andres to set his plate and beer aside before he scrambled up onto Andres’ thighs, his back to Andres’ chest. He dropped his head onto Andres’ shoulder, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips, his desperation evident in every line of his body.
“Legs up,” said Andres.
Riley grasped the backs of his knees, pulling them towards his chest until his feet were flat on the couch and his legs were splayed open on Andres’ lap. Andres spat in his right hand and closed it around Riley’s cock, his other hand seeking out the base of the plug to rock it back and forth.
“You’ve been such a good little slut for me today,” Andres said into Riley’s ear as he jerked him off. “Knowing your place, doing what you’re told, keeping that tight pussy wet and ready for me. But you’re always a perfect sub for me, aren’t you, baby? Such a good, sweet boy – ”
The lavish praise, combined with the friction of Andres’ hand on his cock and the pressure of the heavy, textured toy inside his ass, shattered Riley within seconds. He writhed on Andres’ lap as he came, crying out and gasping through the intensity of his long-delayed orgasm, tears of pure relief springing to his eyes. Andres wrung him dry and then continued torturing him, playing with the plug even after Riley slumped against him and whimpered with overstimulation.
Nuzzling the curve of Riley’s neck, Andres grabbed a roll of paper towels to wipe off his hand and Riley’s stomach. Then he lifted Riley up and set him back on his knees on the floor, between his own spread legs. Riley turned around, catching Andres’ thighs for balance when he listed sideways, and blinked up at him.
“You think I’m done with you?” Andres said, withdrawing his half-erect cock from his shorts. “Open that pretty mouth.”
The day passed in a hazy blur of sex and food and more sex, and the next time Riley was fully cognizant of his surroundings, his eyes were fluttering open in Andres’ bed. Andres was sitting up against the headboard, Riley’s head in his lap, one arm stretched along the length of Riley’s body while he idly slid a finger in and out of Riley’s well-fucked hole.
The television was on, but Riley’s brain was still too scattered to make sense of the voices. His body was warm and entirely limp, his ass so sore that he would have to avoid penetration for at least a few days – though having just Andres’ finger toying with him was a pleasant ache, like foam-rolling a pulled muscle.
As Riley stirred, Andres smoothed his bangs off his forehead with his unoccupied hand. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
“Um…” Riley cleared his throat and licked his dry lips. “Thirsty.”
Andres helped Riley sit up, propping him against the headboard, and handed him a bottle of water. Riley almost couldn’t lift it to his mouth, his muscles slack and heavy.
“What time is it?” he mumbled.
Riley coughed out a mouthful of water. Eleven-thirty? He would have guessed six or seven, at the absolute latest.
“Is something wrong?” Andres asked, taking the bottle before Riley could drop it. “You said you didn’t have any other plans today…”
Even when they hadn’t been fucking, they’d never surfaced from the scene; Riley had been in subspace for almost ten hours. He’d never done that before, and he’d never felt this relaxed, either. His whole body was aglow from the inside out. Not even realizing that he’d completely lost track of time could put a dent in it.
“No, it’s fine,” Riley said. “I’m just surprised.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“No!” Riley said, and okay, maybe he was still a little bit in subspace, because the thought of being separated from Andres caused a sharp flare of panic. “I want to stay here. I mean, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is,” said Andres. “You’re always welcome here.”
Feeling more alert now, Riley took the water bottle back and drank until he’d gotten rid of his cotton mouth. Andres was watching a rerun of The Daily Show, the remains of their last snack piled on the nightstand, though the coziness of the scene was juxtaposed against the black leather straps that still hung from each end of the headboard. Riley traced the light bruise forming on one of his wrists and shivered.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, rolling out of the bed to stand carefully on his jelly legs.
Andres looked him up and down. “Maybe you should take a bath instead.”
“I’ll be okay,” Riley said, and began wobbling towards the bathroom.
He was halfway there when Andres said, “Oh, I got you a toothbrush the last time I was at the drugstore. It’s by the sink.”
Riley stopped short and turned around. “You got me a what?”
“A toothbrush. I know how much it bothers you that you can’t brush your teeth when you sleep over.”
Riley stared at him, aware that he was reacting inappropriately but unable to muster any other response. Now his sense of blissful relaxation was fading.
“It’s a cheap drugstore toothbrush, Riley, not a collar,” Andres said impatiently. “It cost me two bucks. You don’t have to use it if it makes you uncomfortable.”
It took a high level of douchebaggery to irritate easygoing Andres. Riley snapped out of it and returned to the bed, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was really thoughtful, thank you.”
Andres smiled and kissed him back, accepting the apology without further comment.
Riley took a brief shower, not even long enough to steam up the mirror. A towel slung low on his hips, he stood at the sink and picked up the wrapped plastic toothbrush on the counter – it was turquoise, his favorite color, a detail he’d only mentioned in passing to Andres weeks ago.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, it was just a toothbrush. Riley stripped off the wrapper, irritated with himself, and grabbed the toothpaste.
After he’d finished brushing his teeth, however, he was confronted with the dilemma of what to do with the toothbrush. Now that it was unwrapped, setting it back on the counter seemed unhygienic. Chewing on his lower lip, Riley hesitated for a few seconds before dropping the toothbrush into the ceramic cup where Andres stored his own dark blue one.
The two toothbrushes sat innocently side-by-side, their colors complementing each other nicely, all very sweet and homey and domestic.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Are we doing anything this weekend? Andres texted that afternoon, right as Riley was preparing to leave for running practice. I’m working the graveyard shift the next few nights, but I’ll be free by Saturday.
Riley took his time lacing up his shoes, zipping himself into his windbreaker, and fetching a bottle of coconut water from the mini-fridge while he formulated his reply. I’m not sure, he texted back. It’s Harvard-Yale Spirit Week, so I’ll be pretty busy.
Cool, just let me know.
Riley frowned at the screen. He should just tell Andres the truth – that seeing their toothbrushes together had freaked him out – except he knew Andres hadn’t intended the toothbrush as an expression of any sort of commitment. It had just been a considerate gesture on his part, one he probably would have made for any man who slept at his place on a semi-regular basis.
Of course he wanted to see Andres this weekend, but he thought it might be better if they let things cool off for a bit. Riley felt himself sliding inexorably closer to ending up in a genuine relationship with Andres, and that made him nervous; he didn’t know how that would change their dynamic. Though Andres wasn’t bothered by the other men Riley slept with now, would he expect monogamy if they made things official? What if he got all jealous and possessive?
Worst of all, what if it changed the way he dominated Riley? Riley had seen that happen other subs – they made a public commitment to their Dom, and suddenly the Dom acted like all of the sub’s free time and focus belonged to them.
Ugh, no. Too much drama. This was Riley’s first semester of college, for God’s sake. He didn’t need or want a boyfriend right now.
Riley silenced his phone and stashed it in his pocket as he headed out the door.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
“Oh, God, harder,” Riley gasped out. “Yeah – oh fuck yeah, like that – ”
“You’re sure this isn’t too rough?” Darren asked. He was bent over Riley’s back, panting, his hips slapping frantically against Riley’s ass.
“I want it rough,” said Riley.
Darren groaned and slammed his cock into Riley even faster.
One hour into a round of spirited bickering and one-upsmanship at the Harvard-Yale tailgate, Riley and Darren – a mouthwatering Yale senior – had peeled off from their respective groups of friends, and that was how Riley found himself getting plowed on his elbows and knees in the cargo space of Darren’s Ford Explorer. The rear windows were tinted, but dozens of people had seen them getting into the car, and their vigorous movements left no question as to what they were doing in here. It was totally illegal and insanely hot.
Darren couldn’t stop fondling Riley’s ass while he fucked him, squeezing and kneading one cheek with a firm, urgent grip. Riley knew what he wanted, but Darren was too polite to ask for it and too gentlemanly to do it without asking.
“You can smack my ass if you want,” Riley said. “I like it.”
Darren made a choking noise that was half-laugh, half-moan, and gave Riley’s ass a light slap that he hardly felt. When Riley pushed back against him encouragingly, Darren grew bolder; he landed a much harder blow, the crack loud in the confines of the car. Riley groaned his approval.
Once Riley had made it clear that he hadn’t been joking about enjoying this, Darren ran with it, smacking Riley’s ass with great relish while he pounded away. Being fucked and spanked in the back of a parked car while he could hear people moving around outside made Riley feel slutty in the best possible way, and it only took a few strokes of his cock for him to reach his peak, coming hard onto the floor. Darren followed soon afterwards, his shout of completion deep and heartfelt.
After they’d recovered for a minute or so, Darren kissed Riley’s shoulder, pulled out, and said, “Hang on, I’ve got some wet wipes around here somewhere.”
Riley pushed himself up onto his hands. “Do you fuck a lot of guys back here?” he asked teasingly as Darren handed him the package of wipes he fished out of the car’s side pocket.
“Hell, no,” Darren said, grinning. “These are for hiking. Nobody’s ever let me fuck them in my car before.”
His admiring expression bordered on the worshipful. Riley smiled, his inner sub proud to have pleased even a man he’d never met before and would likely never see again.
While he and Darren cleaned themselves up and set their clothing to rights, Riley reflected on the fact that he still very much enjoyed having sex with men other than Andres. He usually fucked two or three guys a week, mostly one-offs, but he did have a few regular hookups – like his resident advisor, who was on the down low and appreciated Riley’s willingness to be discreet, or Travis, a violinist in the orchestra who wasn’t into anal but gave some of the best blowjobs Riley had ever received. Riley never compared his other partners to Andres, and the sex he had was just as pleasurable and satisfying as ever.
It wasn’t sex that made Andres so different – it was everything else. With men like Darren, Riley was content to part ways with a smile and a quick kiss, but with Andres, he was loath to leave afterwards. He and Andres went out before they hooked up; they spent the night together and had breakfast the next morning. Riley had wanted to take Darren’s cock, but he didn’t want to bike around Boston with him, or cuddle with him in bed and watch TV, or text him when he’d had a bad day.
Andres was the only man Riley felt those things for, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
For one of the few times in his entire life, Riley couldn’t concentrate on his homework. Normally, he had laserlike focus, able to block out all distractions and buckle down to the task at hand. Today, however, his mind kept wandering off to thoughts of Andres.
They hadn’t spoken since that brief text exchange on Tuesday. Riley knew it was his own fault – Andres had quite clearly put the ball in his court, and since he’d been working graveyard shifts all week, his sleep schedule was messed up anyway. He’d be waiting to hear from Riley, and the longer Riley went without contacting him, the more Andres would assume that he had lost interest.
Riley forced out another couple sentences of his Expos paper, then shook his head, backed up the document, and closed it. Better to take an unscheduled break than to do subpar work that he’d have to fix later regardless.
He picked up his phone and fiddled with it for a few seconds before tapping out a text to Andres: Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately. It’s been a crazy week. Then he set his phone aside and began packing up his laptop. He’d go down to Darwin’s and try to work there instead – a change of scenery and a jolt of caffeine would do him good.
Andres texted back as Riley was putting on his coat. No problem, I understand. A few seconds later, he added, I’m actually at the Pats game right now – can we talk later?
Riley waited for Andres’ sign-off – when one of them was too busy to keep texting, he often ended the conversation with some kind of silly emoji – but nothing came. There were no blinking dots on the screen, either; Andres didn’t even have the text open on his phone.
Was Andres blowing him off? He didn’t seem like the type to do something so passive-aggressive, but asking him outright would be so pathetic that Riley cringed at the mere thought.
It didn’t matter. Riley would text Andres tonight with some random, interesting detail about his day, and they’d smooth over the awkwardness of their last two conversations.
Except… Riley was flying back to D.C. on Tuesday for Thanksgiving break. The idea of going out of town for almost a week while he and Andres were in a weird place left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Ugh,” Riley said aloud, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder. This kind of shit was exactly why he didn’t want to get involved in a relationship.
Riley settled at a table at Darwin’s with a turkey sandwich and a strong dark coffee. Rather than work on his paper, though, he ended up browsing multiple tabs that included the Patriots’ game schedule, the T’s Sunday timetable, and a map of the distance between Gillette Stadium and Andres’ apartment, calculating what time Andres was likely to get home and how he could best get into Boston around the same time.
He could casually drop by Andres’ apartment tonight, pretend he’d been in Boston for some academic reason. Then he could gauge Andres’ reaction to him in person and see where they stood, without Andres ever finding out that he was being a needy, obsessive freak who apparently couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted.
Once Riley had put a plan in place, he was finally able to concentrate on his paper, knocking it out over the next few hours. That evening, he took the T to Boston and arrived at Andres’ brownstone a little after six-thirty.
Pretending there was nothing at all ridiculous or neurotic about what he was doing, Riley rang the ground-floor buzzer. The door was unlocked without anyone questioning who was there, which struck Riley as odd, but he went inside anyway and climbed the three flights of stairs to Andres’ apartment.
Andres already stood in the open doorway, dressed in a Patriots jersey and a pair of well-worn jeans, holding a wad of cash in one hand. His mouth fell open when he saw Riley coming up the steps. “Riley?” he said. “I thought you were the pizza guy.”
There were voices in the apartment behind him – a lot of voices. Riley looked past Andres’ shoulder and saw at least half a dozen people sitting around the TV in the living room.
Fuck. Why the hell had he thought this would work?
“I’m sorry, I should have called,” Riley said. He adjusted the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder; he’d brought the thing as a prop, thinking it would help sell his cover story of having been in Boston for some other reason. Stupid. “I didn’t know you’d have people over.”
“Yeah, everyone decided to stay and watch the Celtics game.”
“Didn’t you just get back from the Patriots game?” Riley asked, baffled that anyone would want to spend their entire day watching other people play sports.
“That’s football,” said Andres. “The Celtics are basket– ”
“Oh my God, I know the difference between the Patriots and the Celtics,” Riley said. “I’m not a walking cliché.”
Andres’ lips twitched. “Sorry. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”
“I…” Sighing, Riley abandoned all pretense. “I didn’t want to leave for Thanksgiving break without seeing you first.”
“Yeah?” Andres said, his expression going soft and warm. He leaned sideways against the doorjamb.
Riley stepped closer. “Yeah. I want…” He lowered his voice and said, “I want to suck your cock before I go home, so I have something to think about while I’m gone.”
Andres’ eyes widened. He shot a glance over his shoulder, then looked back at Riley and cleared his throat. “Right now?” he asked.
Riley nodded. This hadn’t been his original plan, but fuck it, this was way better.
“If you come inside and we disappear into my bedroom, they’re going to know what we’re doing,” Andres said.
“That doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”
With a snort, Andres said, “Because it’s so embarrassing for my friends to know I got booty-called by a gorgeous man with an ass that won’t quit.” Moving aside, he gestured for Riley to come in with the hand still holding the pizza money.
Riley entered the apartment, hung his coat and bag by the door, and followed Andres into the living room. Andres’ roommate, Jack, twisted around on the couch. “Did they remember the breadsticks?” he said, and then blinked in surprise. “Oh, hey, Riley.”
“Guys, this is Riley Blackpoole, a friend of mine,” Andres said. He introduced Riley around the room to some of his and Jack’s friends from the force and their partners, including Jack’s girlfriend Sofia. Once Riley had exchanged handshakes and friendly greetings all around, Andres dropped the cash into Jack’s hand, slapped his shoulder, and said, “We’ll be back later.”
A couple of the guys whistled good-naturedly. Andres rolled his eyes and took Riley’s hand, leading him to his bedroom.
No sooner had the door shut behind them than Andres slammed Riley up against it, seizing a fierce, hungry kiss. Riley clutched at Andres’ arms and submitted to the manhandling, exulting in the thrill of being pinned by Andres’ superior size and strength.
When he’d taken what he wanted, Andres let go of Riley and backed away. “Take off your clothes and get on your knees,” he said, his eyes hot with desire as he looked Riley over.
Moving away from the door, Riley stripped – not quite putting on a show, but it wasn’t the way he would have undressed if he were alone, either. Naked, he sank to his knees on the carpeted floor.
“Hands behind your back.”
Breathless with excitement, Riley crossed his arms at the small of his back, holding his right wrist with his left hand.
Andres stood in front of him, freeing his erection from his jeans. “I’m going to fuck that slut mouth so hard you’ll still be feeling it on Thanksgiving,” he said, and shoved his long, thick cock between Riley’s lips and over his tongue.
Riley moaned, closing his eyes and relaxing his jaw. Andres had been serious about fucking his mouth; he held Riley’s head with both hands and pumped his hips, plunging his cock ruthlessly in and out. Using all of his experience to control his breathing, Riley drooled and gasped through the brutal face-fucking, his own cock rising between his legs.
“Fucking cockslut,” Andres said. He slowed his thrusts, but drove in deeper on each stroke. “Did you come all the way out here just to get on your knees for me?”
“Ungh,” Riley said.
“Yeah, you did.” Andres pushed Riley’s face all the way to the base of his cock, but he only held Riley there for a second before pulling back; his aversion to breathplay meant he’d never truly choke Riley on his dick, even if Riley wanted him to. “You know what that beautiful mouth was made for. You just love sucking cock, don’t you, baby? The bigger the better, huh?”
Riley made a wet sobbing noise. The truth was that he wasn’t really sucking Andres’ cock, just getting his mouth and throat reamed out, but it took skill to do that without gagging or flinching. It was obvious how often he’d done this, how many guys he must have gone down on to get to the point where he could take this from a huge cock like Andres’, and Riley was both proud of and deliciously humiliated by his own sluttiness.
“Perfect little fuckhole,” said Andres. He released Riley’s head and pulled his cock out of Riley’s mouth with a slick pop. “Arch your back.”
Riley obeyed, his wrists still crossed behind himself, and shifted his thighs farther apart for good measure. Though he kept his eyes shut, Andres didn’t come on his face – he came on Riley’s chest instead, hot spurts splashing over Riley’s collarbone and nipples and trickling down his sternum. Startled and powerfully turned on, Riley looked down at his come-drenched body with an open mouth.
“Don’t touch that,” Andres said. He zipped himself back into his jeans, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed red. “Get up on your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. I’m going to eat you out while you jerk yourself off.”
Whimpering under his breath, Riley dragged himself up onto the bed to crouch on the edge of the mattress, knees wide and ass thrust out. Andres knelt on the floor behind him and spread his ass open.
“Look at that smooth, pretty pussy.” Andres spat on Riley’s hole, then rubbed it with his thumb. “You want me to get my mouth on that for you, baby?”
“Please,” Riley said. His voice came out like gravel, shredded from having Andres’ cock shoved down his throat over and over.
Andres cursed softly in Spanish and leaned in, laving his tongue over Riley’s balls and perineum and hole.
“Oh.” Riley dropped from his hands to his elbows and grabbed his cock.
Being eaten out wasn’t much fun when the guy acted like it was a chore, but when a guy was really into it, it was one of the most amazing feelings in the world – and Andres loved rimming. He was sloppy in his enthusiasm, his tongue flicking and circling and lapping at Riley’s sensitive hole, his breath hot against Riley’s skin as he went to town on Riley’s ass with eager, hungry sounds.
“Talk to me,” Andres said when he drew back to catch his breath. “I want to hear your voice.”
Yeah, because he liked hearing the proof of how well he’d fucked Riley’s throat. Riley pressed his blushing face against the bed, somehow more embarrassed by that than he was to be jerking off with his ass in the air, his body dripping Andres’ come.
“I can’t,” he said, though of course he would if Andres wanted him to. “It feels too good… I can’t think when you do this to me – ”
“What am I doing to you?” Andres kissed Riley’s hole.
“You’re eating me out.”
Andres’ tongue stilled against him, and Riley could feel his disapproval.
“You’re eating my pussy,” Riley corrected himself, his hand speeding up on his cock.
He was rewarded with a slap to his ass and a long, luxuriant swirl of Andres’ tongue. Riley ground his ass against Andres’ face, his hips swiveling whorishly.
“Would you…” Riley dragged in a shaky breath. “Inside, please – ”
Andres pried Riley’s hole open with his thumbs and wriggled the tip of his tongue inside. Riley squealed.
“Oh, yes, please, that feels so good, more, please – ”
Riley babbled on as Andres tongue-fucked him, only half-aware of what he was saying. He tugged his cock hard, getting closer and closer…
Andres pulled back, holding Riley’s hole open, and spat right into it this time. Riley’s body jerked, and he cried out when Andres eased one thick finger inside, hooking it towards the front of his body. Putting his mouth back to work, Andres licked Riley’s hole and massaged his prostate, propelling him into a shuddering, full-body orgasm.
Riley collapsed onto his side. He lay there, sated and docile, while Andres cleaned the come off his body and the bed. Then Andres disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with his toothbrush in his mouth.
Using his free hand, Andres rolled Riley onto his stomach and spread his asscheeks apart, exposing his hole. Riley craned his head over his shoulder and watched Andres just casually admiring his hole while he brushed his teeth. His cheeks heating, Riley buried his face in a pillow even as he parted his legs wider to give Andres a better look.
Andres smacked his ass. “Perfect,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste. He went back into the bathroom to rinse and spit; when he came out, he lay beside Riley in the bed, coaxed him onto his side, and kissed him so thoroughly that Riley was dizzy afterwards.
“You should probably get back to your friends,” Riley said a short time later.
“Stay and hang out for a while,” Andres said. His muscular arm was slung across Riley’s waist, his broad hand splayed against Riley’s back. “I know you’re not into basketball, but there’s pizza – and breadsticks, if the guy remembered them this time.”
Riley nuzzled the hollow of Andres’ throat. He shouldn’t stay; spending time with Andres’ friends screamed relationship. They’d fucked, and now Riley should get up and leave, the way he would with any other guy.
Andres wasn’t any other guy.
“I’d love to,” said Riley.