Why Not With Me?

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Only Me

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I didn’t mean to hurt you

I’m sorry that I made you cry.

I’m just a jealous guy.

- From Jealous Guy, by John Lennon

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I want you safe. 

Those were my words. 

My words that I said when I couldn’t say more. 

It is so clear in my mind; as clear as any memory I have.

I remember Justin’s gasp and the shudder of his body around me.

I’d pushed into him so hard, and without any preparation.

I hadn’t wanted to know whether he was responding to my words or to the pain, sharp before it turned to pleasure.

We’d been talking about bare backing. I wanted to make sure that Justin would never put himself at risk for anything, or anyone, or even love.

I wanted him safe, and I wanted him around for a long time.

I guess I wanted him to do that for me.

When Justin echoed those words to me, those words from long ago, the meaning wasn’t lost on me. 

Justin wanted me to realize that fucking wasn’t the only activity that I needed to protect myself from.  The others could kill me, too. 

And he wants me safe.

I didn’t know how to respond or what to say to that.

The realization hit me hard. I said little the rest of the session, and really, for the rest of the night.

The next night, Justin sat down in the chair right after dinner and I went to him.

----------Justin’s Point of View--------------

Brian is shaken up.

I know part of it is about his risk for alcoholism. That wasn’t easy to hear, but in all honesty, I felt more relieved than worried. Because we were meeting it head on, together. And Brian was taking it seriously.

Maybe I was harsh when I told him I wanted him safe. After all, he was taking it seriously already. But still, I didn’t want him to be complacent. I wanted his attention; I wanted him to feel the core of what I wanted.

And it did rattle him. He’s been subdued since. 

In fact, Cynthia called me this afternoon, while Brian was at a meeting. She was concerned about him because he’d seemed very quiet the last couple of weeks and had acted strangely at the start of a client lunch meeting. 

As per their usual protocol, she’d been taking drink orders as the meeting began. 

Everyone had answered in their turn, and she hadn’t asked Brian because he always ordered the same thing for business lunches -- vodka, no ice.

But then, as she started to turn away toward the bar, she felt Brian’s hand on her shoulder.

“Extra ice,” he’d said quietly, into her ear.

“Never, in all the years I’ve known him, has he wanted a watered-down drink,” Cynthia exclaimed to me. “And I just went in there, and he’s hardly touched it. Maybe he had a sip, but that’s it,” she said, incredulity lacing her voice. 

I didn’t know what to say. I know Brian trusts Cynthia, but this still wasn’t something I could discuss yet. 

Fuck, I hadn’t even discussed it with Brian.

I’d assured Cynthia that Brian was fine, that he was just very tired and busy and overstretched. She seemed to believe me by the time she hung up the phone. 

When I hung up, I wasn’t feeling better. I was feeling… well, worse. 

Because now I was confused and concerned and… frankly, astonished. Astonished that Brian’s behavior at work was so instantly effected by Dr. Stevenson’s concerns. 

I thought about it that afternoon, caught on tightrope between being unreasonably afraid of Brian’s reaction and extremely proud of it.

That night I sat in our chair and waited just a minute or two before he came over.

------------------- Brian’s Point of View -------

“Cynthia called me today,” he says, and instantly my heart starts to race. 

Fuck… Can’t I have any privacy? I try to… I try to… I try to…understand something, and right away everyone has to notice? And share? And gossip? 

-----------------Justin’s Point of View----------

 I can see anger in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tightening of his hand around my knee. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“She was worried about you, that’s all,” I try to explain softly, but Brian turns his head away. 

“It’s none of her business,” he says, voice stark in its  finality. 

I don’t say anything for a minute. 

“Okay; do you want me to talk  her and tell her that?” I offer. 

He glares at me, annoyed. 

“She works for me; I can talk to her.” 

“Okay,” I say softly and try to stroke his hair.  He pulls his head away slightly, his message clear enough. 

“Brian,” I start again, voice even softer, “I just thought you should know -- and I wanted to say that I’m --”

“Don’t,” he interrupts firmly. 

“Don’t?”

“Don’t say you’re proud of me.”

I feel tears stinging in my eyes at his rebuke, and I’m glad he can’t see that. 

“Okay,”  I say, struggling to keep my emotions out of my voice.

--------Brian’s Point of View----------

He doesn’t say anything for a long time and I think I hear a sniffle. 

Fuck.

I don’t want to upset him, but… But I have nothing to say. 

Nothing. 

Today at the office was an experiment. I just wanted…to see if I could do it. If I could not drink, or barely drink. I wanted to know how it would feel. I wanted to know if my business associates would think I was a sissy. I wanted to know for myself if -- if it was a choice, like Dr. Stevenson said it was. 

It wasn’t about Justin; it wasn’t about anything else, or anyone else, just me.

Only now, Justin’s struggling not to cry; I can feel it in the tight, controlled breath as I hold him there in my arms. 

I brush a tear from his cheek with my thumb and turn to look at him.

“Sunshine… I didn’t mean…” 

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment. 

-------Justin’s Point of View-----------

He pulls me close against his chest, one hand stroking my hair.

“I just wanted to see,” he murmurs.

I nod, fighting the tears still.

“I didn’t mean to -- to be mean,” he says.

“I know,” I reply and he kisses the top of my head. 

Neither of us says anything for a long few moments.

“You wanted to see how it would feel,” I whisper into his ear.

He exhales deeply and pulls me tighter against him.

“Yeah.”

I nod and snuggle against him. 

“Nothing else yet,” he says, voice so quiet I almost miss it.  

I feel a lump in my throat and I nod again, not wanting to risk the tears that would come from answering. 

--------Brian’s Point of View-----------

I sit there for a while with Justin, neither one of us ready to say anything, or to get up.

Am I about to put him through more?

Is he going to have to sit here with me through withdrawals? 

Through AA meetings?

Through cravings and relapses and god knows what else?

I will not ask him to do that.

I can do it myself; I can stop this. 

Today at the meeting, I’d reached reflexively for my glass. 

It was good to feel it in my hands and to look across the table and see everyone else with a drink in their hands, too. 

Twice I was thirsty, and started to lift the glass. 

Only once, mostly on impulse and out of thirst, I took a tiny sip; by then it was very watery and weak.

I was nervous and almost distracted the whole time; my mind was racing. Noticing every thought. 

Did I want to drink? 

Why did I have a drink? 

Were people waiting for me to drink? 

Were they watching me drink? 

Were they watching me not drink?

When did I reach for the glass?

Would it matter if it were filled with water instead of vodka?

Why did we even have drinks at client meetings? 

Did I need to drink? 

What would happen if I didn’t?

I looked back at Justin and smiled at him. 

“I don’t think I need it at work,” I say without really planning to. 

He nods and kisses my cheek. 

----------Justin’s Point of View--------------

He doesn’t think he needs it at work. 

I know what that means -- he is not sure yet. He’s not promising. 

But he doesn’t think he needs alcohol at work. 

And that is enough -- more than enough -- for now. 

----------Brian’s Point of View-------- 

“Let’s go to Babylon,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood and get things back to something more normal.

Justin looks at me with questions in his eyes.

Questions I don’t want to answer; not now. Not yet. 

I look away. 

He brings his hand to cup my face and turns me to him again.

“I’m not going to drink,” he whispers, looking nervous about my response. 

--------Justin’s Point of View-----------

I had to say it. 

I have no idea how he will react to that; I don’t think it will be good.

But I had to say it.

He pulls his lips into his mouth and gazes into my eyes. 

I look back at him. I don’t see anger.

He nods slightly, nuzzles his nose against mine, and softly kisses me before standing up.

---------------

It’s a pretty typical night at Babylon. We got there around eleven, Brian dressed in some brand-new, dark wash Prada jeans that cling to his hips and his ass. And a gorgeous, dark brown, clingy, rib-knit wife beater that matches his eyes. Fuck, oh fuck, is he hot. 

Everything is normal until Brian pulls me over to the bar when a song comes on that neither of us likes. 

He pulls me in for a kiss and there is no alcohol in his breath.

He grins at me when he pulls away and pulls out his wallet, and two tabs of E. 

I swallow a little.

I’m not drinking tonight; apparently he’s not drinking tonight. 

But E. 

We hadn’t discussed that; not at all.

And it sounds good. I love how hot Brian gets on E. Hot and affectionate and fucking horny as hell.  His eyes are watching me, happy but serious, as I hesitate. 

Finally I take one. He takes the other and orders us two bottles of water. In a  moment it’s done and he wraps his arm around my waist possessively. 

I start to feel the warmth buzzing through my body; the room’s edges start to get a little softer. Mmmm. It’s been too long. 

Just then, Emmett appears before us as we turn away from the bar. 

“Aren’t you going to have anything with that?” he asks, offering his near-full froo-froo drink to me. 

“No thanks,” I say easily, glancing at Brian. 

“You?” Emmett says, turning to him. 

“Nope,” Brian replies, his hand tightening around my hips. 

Emmett shrugs and smiles. “More for me, I guess.” 

Brian smiles at him and starts to walk away. Then he stops and catches Emmett with a hand on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Honeycutt?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you be willing to do another Glamour Gala? The profits on the last one were amazing, and I’m thinking we could do a holiday themed one.”

Emmett lights up. 

“Oh my god, with Christmas decorations and a naughty Santa contest,” he practically squeals, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“So you’ll do it?” Brian asks. 

“Of course,” Emmett says, eyes distant as he thinks of the possibilities. 

As we walk away, Brian smiles at me.  I can tell from the gleam in his eye that the E is really taking effect. 

He slides his hand over and cups me through my jeans. I am instantly hard. 

Then he pulls me to his hips roughly with his other hand, holding us together. I can feel his cock hard and constrained in those jeans. 

Then I feel his tongue sliding down the side of my throat, coming to rest and suck at hollow of my neck. 

----------Brian’s Point of View ---------

The room is bouncing; I am bouncing. Sunshine is bouncing against me. 

No, grinding against me. 

I put my hands on his hips and lean back. He follows me, his lips never leaving my neck. Licking. Sucking. He’s sighing; I hear it through the music. 

I think he might be vibrating -- he’s glowing at least. He always glows, but the E magnifies it; it’s like he’s draped in tinsel from a Christmas tree. 

His hair is so soft against me; his cock is so hard.

For a while I lose myself in him and the music; gentle mixture of colors and sounds and lights that consume me. 

Watching Justin’s hips sway; watching his eyes close. Feeling his hands holding my ass.

Mostly it occupies me, but somewhere in the back of my mind I know this is different. 

Tonight is different. 

Sure, I’m still high. No doubt. And it feels good. 

But there’s a feeling missing. There’s a sloppiness missing. An easiness. A carelessness. 

Physically it’s a little different too. 

I’m a little t oo clear-headed. I’m a little to steady. I’m not falling into Justin and he’s not falling into me.

-----------Justin’s Point of View-----------------

 I can feel him against me. So warm, so soft, so golden, so beautiful. 

His eyes are half-closed and dark, his hands firm on my hips. Keeping us close. Keeping us hard against each other. 

I could dance like this forever, feeling the beat surging through my feet and I think even through Brian’s heartbeat. I think I hear it in his pulse. 

But as much as I feel him here next to me, and as well as I know the sensations in his body right now, I know he’s thinking. He’s distracted. 

He’s even a little worried. 

And I know it’s because we’re not drinking. 

I can feel the difference too, but to me it’s just a difference. It’s not a loss.

And for me, it’s a choice without a whole lot of consequence. 

For him it’s a lot more.

He’s here hoping -- needing -- to know he can live his life without alcohol; that it isn’t necessary. That he can have a good time without it. 

I look over at him and he meets my gaze. He’s getting hot; I know it won’t be long before we either go home or go to the backroom. 

That’s when I have an idea. An idea that might prove that his lifestyle can be as extravagant or wild as ever -- without alcohol. 

------------Brian’s Point of View-----------

Justin brings his mouth up to my ear.

“Wanna take someone home?”

His voice is throaty and when I look into his eyes, they’re a couple shades darker than usual. He pushes his hips hard against me in case I’d missed those clues to his horniness. 

--------Justin’s Point of View-------------

Brian looks at me closely and a huge grin spreads across his face. 

When I push my hips to him, he tightens his grip and keeps me there. He trails his mouth, wet and kissing, up my neck to my ear. 

Then he says, his voice breathy and hot in my ear, “Yeah -- him.” 

I look over, following his gaze. 

And I find a guy; he’s almost as tall as Brian. He’s got a slight tan and deep auburn hair. He’s dancing with someone now, but he sees me and Brian and winks. 

Brian raises one eyebrow and beckons slightly with his right hand. 

Immediately the guy drops whoever it was he’s with. He comes over, eyeing Brian up and down, then Brian nods at me and he looks me over, too. 

Then the guy grins and whispers something to Brian. 

-----------Brian’s Point of View -----------

The guy is pretty hot, and I haven’t fucked anyone with auburn hair in a while. And his navy blue, sleeveless, Versace shirt is beautiful.

His eyes light up when he sees Justin’s ass in these low-slung cargo pants. He actually thinks he’s getting some of that. What a dumbass. 

But then brushes his shoulder against mine, then slides his ass against my thigh. 

Okay, he’s dumb but he’s hot.

--------Justin’s Point of View------------

We’re in the car when he asks. 

“What’s your name?”

I turn to Brian, anxious to see his response. 

He shakes his head. 

“No?” Auburn Hair asks, confused. 

Brian shakes his head again and Auburn Hair looks to me. 

I shake my head. 

He grins, thinking we’re kidding. The smile is nice. Brian catches it and snickers.

“You don’t need a name,” he says in his best “fuck off” voice. 

Auburn Hair is properly in his place now and he settles in against the cramped back compartment of the ‘Vette. 

----------------

When we bring someone home, it usually goes like this: 

Brian makes me into -- into the crème of his cookie sandwich, so to speak. 

He never, ever lets anyone fuck me. 

One guy who tried got kicked out without his jeans, and only got his underwear cuz I felt a little bad and snuck them through the door. 

It used to be that I fucked the trick, because threesomes were sort of like Brian’s way of letting me top someone when he wasn’t in the mood to be topped.

But since -- since that’s been more even between us, I usually just get sucked off.

I don’t mind; either way, it’s like Brian’s fucking me twice at the same time, because he’s the bossiest top ever. His voice directs, controls, demands, starts and stops all the action.

Sometimes it’s like living totally in his fantasy-laden mind. I don’t think these ideas would come to my mind, ever.

------Auburn Hair’s Point of View -------------

Jesus fucking CHRIST these two are hot. 

The blonde one is just so soft, and so pretty. And the way he moves -- he’s like fucking liquid. And that ass…. 

Then there’s -- well there’s Brian Kinney. I haven’t lived in Pittsburgh too long, but I’ve lived here long enough to know him. 

This is the first time I’ve ever seen him close up. And he’s hotter this way. God…those cheekbones. That chin. God, I just want to lick his face, and kiss his eyelids. What beautiful, round doe-eyes. 

And his body is fucking unbelievable. As in, I fucking wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t standing a foot away right fucking now. 

Jesus.

I am so fucking lucky .

-----------Brian’s Point of View ---------

Fuck, I can’t wait to see Justin come. 

I know just how I want it to happen. I know just what he has coming to him when we get home. 

And I can almost hear him in my head now -- his moans, his gasp of surprise -- fuck, the elevator’s taking too fucking long. 

I hope Auburn Hair can take directions, because if not I’ll fucking find someone else who can. 

--------Justin’s Point of View ------------

“Take your clothes off,” Brian orders Auburn Hair. Then he undresses me himself, letting his fingers slide along my arms and legs, letting his cock grind against me. Letting me squirm and wiggle out of my pants while he puts his tongue in my mouth. 

Auburn Hair does as he’s told. He’s pretty good-looking. Not as toned as Brian, and not as well-proportioned, but who is? 

He watches me and Brian for a minute, and when Brian notices this, he pulls his mouth off of me. 

“Close your eyes,” he orders. Auburn Hair tries to smile but he looks nervous. Then he obeys. 

I watch as Brian retrieves one blindfold and slips it over Auburn Hair’s eyes. 

“We only need your mouth,” Brian says roughly, securing the blindfold tight. 

---------- Auburn Hair’s Point of View -------------

Fuck,  this must be my lucky night .

Brian Kinney in a kinky threesome? Fuck!

I’m standing here feeling just a little foolish with the blindfold, especially since my cock is already so hard, just from this situation. 

“Over here,” Brian says, grabbing me by the arm and walking me someplace. 

“You’re going to be sucking his cock,” he tells me quietly. 

I grin and he pauses.

“And this is going to be good for him, so don’t fuck it up. Tonight you’re going  to go real slow, with a little suction, like this --” 

That’s when I feel Brian’s hand on my cock, grasping me and moving so slow, loosening and tightening his fist.

“Oh fuck,” I cry out, not expecting that.

He pulls his hand off. 

“You come later. That was a demonstration so you don’t fuck up. Got it?”

I nod and swallow hard.

-----------Justin’s Point of View------------

Brian’s never let me see him directing any tricks before. I don’t think he usually is so graphic about it. Tonight I guess it’s the hands-on approach. 

Then he turns his attention back to me and slowly starts peeling off his clothes, giving me a mini strip show as he walks over from the beam back toward the door. 

I can’t take my eyes off him. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of watching him reveal his lean, long torso, with those perfect abs, flat stomach and narrow waist. He stares at me as he gets closer, unsnapping his jeans with one hand and shimmying out of them.

No underwear. 

I intake my breath, seeing him so hard already. 

He comes upon me suddenly, sliding his body so close to mine that we’re touching at several points. 

“You ready?” he asks, voice almost flinty but yet soft in the emptiness of the room.

I nod and he reaches his hands around me, using is long fingers to push my ass against him. He rests his thumb on the indentation in the small of my back and presses extra hard there.

------------Brian’s Point of View -------------

That spot always makes Justin crazy. 

I feel his knees cave in a little when I start rubbing right there, and let my mouth capture his until he’s sighing into me. 

I press forward a little more, leaning into the kiss, feeling his pre cum on my body.

I kiss him again and I feel his body, his responses -- he’s so turned on right now -- he’s so ready.

--------Justin’s Point of View ----------

He walks me, half-backwards, to the beam.

“Stay,” he whispers, breath tickling the nape of my neck as he pulls away from a searing kiss. 

I nod, hardly able to talk. 

He comes back a moment later with handcuffs and grins at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Spread your legs and hug it.” 

I do, feeling the beam cold against my throbbing cock. 

Brian knows how fucking hot I get when I’m up against things. The shower wall, the wall at Babylon. Wherever. 

And he knows I love to bed tied up.

Now I’m tied up, arms hugging the beam. Body pressed against it almost to the waist. 

But then he takes my hips firmly and pulls them out.

I try to step forward a little. That’s when I realize that Auburn Hair is there. Kneeling, I think, his face level to my dripping cock. 

------------Auburn Hair’s Point of View --------

Fuck. Just hearing them is fucking hot. 

Then the footsteps. 

In my head I’m thinking about the layout of the loft and I know I’m sitting right by this big beam, pole thing. I hope that’s what the blonde one will be hugging.

It is. 

Because I can feel him now, right in front of me. 

I can smell a faint, sexed muskiness and I start to lean forward, wondering just how close I am to his cock. 

“Don’t fucking touch him yet,” Brian commands sternly, and I sit back again. 

-------------Brian’s Point of View------------

I push myself flush against Justin and move my body up and down, rocking against him. My cock is dripping against his round ass and I feel so god damn good, so warm and sweaty and ready.

Justin groans when I push harder -- he wants to push his hips out, but it’s not time for that. Not yet. 

I start to slide down his body, leaving my tongue and my lips ready for action. I kiss and suck a path along his spine while my hands are wide, sliding down the sides of his body. 

“Fuck Brian, oh fuck,” he mutters, trying to push at least is upper body closer, but he really can’t. 

---------------Justin’s Point of View -------------

I almost come when I hear Brian’s knees hit the floor.

Then his mouth gets lower and he pushes my legs open wider with a hard shove of his hands.

Hands that are then spreading me, exposing me.

“Oh god yes, now,” I whimper, biting my lip as he traces my hole with his lips.

He groans a little because he loves this, too.

Suddenly I’m really grateful that I’m standing nearly upright, because my knees are shaking even now. Brian is laving me with his tongue, lightly  pressing his tongue flat against me with one stroke, then pushing hard with just the tip. 

Oh my fucking GOD that feels fucking GOOD.

-----------Auburn Hair’s Point of View-----------------

That Brian Kinney must be fucking amazing, because the blonde kid is going crazy.

He’s moaning and gasping in these quick alternations, sounding so fucking horny and desperate. Id’ give fucking ANYTHING to be able to see what was going on, but I don’t dare to take the blindfold off. 

Just hearing the sounds -- the moan/gasp pattern of the blonde one, and Brian’s deep, stuccotto groans are fucking making ME crazy and no one’s even fucking TOUCHED me yet. Shit.

------ Brian’s Point of View ---------

Justin is right on that edge, but I’m not giving enough -- not enough pressure, not enough speed, not enough penetration -- for him to come. 

He knows it and I know it.

I’m just living and breathing in those sounds coming from his body, and from the sight of him fucking tied up and spread for me.

“Fuck, fuck, please,” he begs during the grunts.

------- Auburn Hair’s Point of View -------

I hear the blonde one beg. 

Then I hear Brian’s voice, another command to me. 

“When I count to three, start sucking him like I showed you.” 

I nod and he starts counting.

One, two, three.

------- Justin’s Point of View----------------

HOLY SHIT. 

I hear the conversation and I swear I’m fucking SHAKING when Brian gets to two. 

Then he stops rimming me. 

Totally stops.

Then, at three, Auburn Hair starts sucking. 

FUCK ME, I’M FUCKING GOING TO DIE if I don’t come soon!

--------Brian’s Point of View--------------

Justin’s whole body is quivering.

“Stop at three,” I say, pulling myself away from my own climax. It’s so close, just from watching this unfold.

“One, two, three.”

--------Justin’s Point of View----------

This time, Auburn Hair stops at three.

Tears well in my eyes and my fucking balls are starting to HURT.

God I FUCKING NEED TO COME!

Then -- Brian starts again, his tongue slow and light and flat, then sharp, deep, hard.

---------Brian’s Point of View--------------

He’s shaking and I can see a tear or two.

“Please, please, please, please,” he’s whimpering over and over, almost incoherently.

I tighten my hands around his waist.

“Stop at three,” I say.

----------Auburn Hair’s Point of View-------------

“One, two, three.”

I stop, feeling like I’m one touch away from my own climax.

This Brian Kinney is some fucking Sex God with capital letters because fuck, I swear I think the blonde one is going to pass out and land on me, any fucking second.

But this time, there’s a pause. Maybe ten seconds. 

I hear the blonde one catching his breath. 

---------Justin’s Point of View---------------------

Brian’s just kissing my low back for a moment, tenderly, while I try to breathe.

I’m glad because I don’t want it over just yet. I want a little more; a little longer.

Then I hear the next command.

“Suck the head, fast,” Brian instructs and I intake my breath in anticipation. 

“Ahhhfucckguhhh!”

------Auburn Hair’s Point of View----------------

He must be so close, because he just made this funny sort of half-squeal and twitched in my mouth -- never heard anything quite like it. 

But I’ve never heard anyone fucked by Brian Kinney before, either. 

--------Brian’s Point of View------------

I thought he only made that noise for me.

I thought.

I know -- I know that means -- he’s about to come, really, really hard. Like he’s fucking about to pass out in a second.

I know.

No one else knows.

No one else should know.

----------Auburn Hair’s Point of View----------

“Stop!”

His voice is harsh and loud.

I stop immediately.

“Get the fuck out.”

What? The blonde one is just about to --

“GET THE FUCK OUT,” he says, pulling the blindfold off of me.

I look at him and at the blonde one, who is totally out of breath and confused-looking.

Suddenly I feel my jeans hitting me in the face. 

“Get the fuck out NOW.”

It’s not fucking easy to put my pants on as fucking hard as I am, but I do. I do it because, though I don’t know what I did wrong, I thin Brian Kinney might kill me if I’m still here in twenty seconds.

------Justin’s Point of View---------

Shit -- what just happened?

Fuck -- he’s leaving.

What - what happened? 

He’s gone. 

Brian’s undoing my arms.

He’s dragging me to bed.

He lays me flat and kisses me. He kisses softly, sweetly, trying to ease the confusion in my eyes.

Then he pushes up my knees and hoists up my hips over his shoulders and I groan. 

God yes, finally please.

He starts up his rhythm again, the one with his tongue. 

I’m right with him, instantly right on the edge again. 

----------Brian’s Point of View-------------

There -- there. There it is. 

For me this time.

Only for me.

I push my cock into him in one smooth motion, glad I’d gotten lubed and ready while the trick was taking his time getting the fuck out. 

I fuck him hard and let my hand take over the rhythm on his cock. 

We both come in a moment, groaning each other’s name.