3

I thought the epic night with Adam and Christoffer on Thursday would be enough to get me through the weekend. I was wrong.

Unsettled, I avoided Joel as much as possible during the golf tournament. He mingled a lot, schmoozing potential clients, so I was free to do my job without interruptions. I wasn’t the best with a camera—there was a reason I did post-production and effects usually—but this type of event wasn’t rocket science. There was another photographer who followed the players. I was only supposed to capture the atmosphere—people mingling, birds chirping, golf carts rolling up over bright-green hills—seriously, the grass was so perfect it looked plastic.

I caught Joel’s gaze a few times. Even from a distance, I could feel his eyes on me. The day dragged on.

The dinner party was mundane and torturously long. Nobody expected the cameraman to dress up too much, so I got away with my usual attire for similar events—a black T-shirt with a flowery print, a black suit jacket, boots, and blue faded skinny jeans. I hadn’t shaved in a week—I didn’t bother for this crowd either. Joel, on the other hand, was impeccable in a dark suit with a fucking handkerchief in the front pocket. It was turquoise and shimmery, just like his irises. He eyed me up and down when I entered the room fifteen minutes late. His eyes narrowed, and he looked away quickly. I couldn’t tell from a distance if it was disapproval or just discomfort which made his lips stretch thin.

There was nothing between us to justify my growing feelings for him. Lust, yeah. And ego. Not more than that. It couldn’t be. However, I realized I admired Joel. He was dangerously intelligent, smooth, and sometimes unexpectedly funny—not with me, though. Never with me. Maybe that was why it took me such a long time to see him as anything other than a way-too-attractive pain in the ass. When I watched him with others during the evening, I was fascinated by him. Joel was charming, his smiles professional, but somehow…gentle. But when I came too close, he tensed and hid his softer side like an armadillo.

I seemed to be his exception. He never smiled when he was with me.

I half expected him to follow me when I snuck out of the after party at eleven. Power of habit, I guessed. He saw me leaving, his face emotionless but for a little tension around his mouth. Of course, he didn’t come after me. The disappointment I felt took me by surprise. It seemed that with every encounter, my taste for him grew. I didn’t like it one bit. I didn’t want to want him even more than I already did.

The hotel room was way too hot. After fiddling with the air-con settings, I stripped, took a shower and put on my boxer briefs. I ignored the large flat-screen TV and decided to have one drink from the minibar, jerk off, and go to sleep.

I finished my whiskey and felt just a little pathetic. An old Radiohead album drifted from my phone, the sound quality not great but better than silence. I thought of Joel’s mouth on me as I rubbed my groin through my briefs halfheartedly. I was just putting the empty glass aside when I heard a knock.

“Tyler?” His voice was muffled by the heavy door, but of course I recognized him. Joel came to me after all. I shot off the bed and opened the door for him.

He didn’t meet my gaze. He walked to the window and just stood there. I closed the door and waited. His shoulders rose and sank as he breathed deeply, his back to me.

“I…” he began. And nothing. He gripped his neck and massaged it.

He was struggling, and I didn’t want to see him like that. We didn’t need to say anything of substance. I didn’t want him to beg or to apologize. I got it. He wanted me, but I didn’t fit into his neat, perfect life. It was fine. I didn’t need a boyfriend. I wanted to get off. That was all.

“You want me to fuck you,” I stated, loud enough that he stiffened before his shoulders relaxed, and he turned to me.

He watched me, and I saw desire, but there was exhaustion in his features as well. And relief. He was grateful he didn’t have to explain or negotiate. No games, just sex. It was what we both wanted. Right?

“Clothes off, then.”

He did as he was told, slipping his light-blue long-sleeved shirt over his head and unbuttoning his jeans. He’d had a dark suit on at the dinner party but changed his clothes before he came to me, which meant he’d also showered.

“You prepared?” I asked, pretty sure what the answer would be.

“Yes.” His voice was strong and determined.

I watched him strip. He was already half-hard as he took off his boxer briefs and kicked them aside. His blond hair was a mess, and he had a faint stubble. There was a blush spreading on his upper chest, his sculpted torso heaving. His nipples were tight little peaks, and he brushed his palm over one of them before he fisted his hand.

“How do you want it?” I asked.

“Hard. I want to come with your cock in my ass,” Joel said clinically, with only a twitch of his upper lip.

Simple, then. I could do simple. I would simply…have this man writhing and begging, spurting come like a fountain, impaled on my cock. Finally. I burned with desire, my erection tenting my boxers. I took them off as Joel looked on, knowing not to touch himself unless I told him to.

“Get on the bed, on all fours.”

Joel hesitated, looking toward the king-sized unmade bed. The glow from the twin lamps outlined his silhouette, and as he turned, the curve of his back and ass shone golden. Eyes wide and breath stuck in my lungs, I stood frozen when Joel kneeled on the edge of the bed before he bent forward, supporting himself on his arms, his ass exposed to me. He looked exquisite.

In my mind, I snapped a picture and saved it. The body of this man laid out for me, the full curves of his muscles, the shimmer of his soft blond body hair, his skin glowing on the dark grey bedding, so much beauty surrendered… This would be one of the scenes my brain would play out for me the moment before I died. I was sure of it.

I took the few remaining steps to reach him. I was acutely aware of any and all physical sensations on my skin—the faint draft from the AC, the plush carpet under my bare feet, the brush of a bed sheet against my shin… With reverence, I placed my hands on his ass cheeks and opened him up. His skin was warm, dry, the hair on his ass soft. The touch electrocuted my palms nonetheless. I squeezed the muscles and ran my fingers through his crease where it was wet from his recent shower.

“Need me to stretch you?” My voice wavered.

“No,” he answered immediately. The word fell from his mouth with a thud. Joel was desperate. The knowledge made my cock ache.

I left Joel for a moment and went to find the supplies in my bag. In the next twenty seconds, I had a condom on and was smearing lubricant on my hard length. Joel didn’t move except to spread his legs farther apart, giving me a better view of his perineum and hole. His arms seemed to tremble.

He said hard, no stretching? Well, he was the boss.

I petted his hole with two fingers. He’d prepared all right; he even lubed himself for me. I caressed the entrance again, hesitating. Damn. Now, I wanted to play with his ass. For hours, pacing him, torturing him…

“Do it!” he growled. The boss was impatient.

The tip of my cock nudging his hole, I took a second to calm down. It was a fuck. An impersonal fuck. We didn’t even kiss. No foreplay. Just fucking. Much better than the lonely jerk-off I’d planned.

My gaze traced the perfectly curved path from his crease, along his spine into the valley between his shoulder blades and to his neck. His head turned to the side, Joel strained to look at me, and the blue of his irises shot through my brain like laser beams. Oh hell, who was I kidding…impersonal fuck? This was Joel.

Bewildered by the thought, I pushed, and my cockhead slipped over his pucker on the first try. Joel exhaled ruggedly, and his head sank between his arms. Fucking hell!

Getting a better grip on his hips and parting his cheeks with my thumb, I tried again. I rocked forward, and my cockhead popped in easily this time. Joel groaned. I let go of my cock and held his ass with both hands instead.

Velvet and heat and tight pressure.

I waited for him to adjust. His breathing was screaming loud. He clenched and released around the tip of my cock, and I hissed. Jesus, he was tight. I felt it coming—an avalanche of need that made it impossible for me to stay still any longer.

My hips moved of their own accord, rocking in small increments—I wanted in there, desperately, deeper, harder, more. In. There. Joel’s ass in my hands, on my cock, the perfect, beautiful, stone-cold bastard of a man spread out and whimpering, moaning for me…

His voice was muffled but the anger distinct. “Tyler! Do it. Fuck me!”

My cock slid in deeper, half of my length inside him. I watched, entranced by how his rim stretched. I traced it with a finger, backed off an inch, and pushed in deeper.

Joel made an inhuman sound, a guttural groan from the center of his body, and he fell on his elbows. The resistance was gone. His body relaxed, his ass muscles gave way to me, and with a victorious moan, I sank into him to the hilt.

He was completely at my mercy. Mine for the next few minutes, wordlessly pleading for more of my cock by angling his spine and pushing back, wanting, needing to be owned by me.

I pulled out almost all the way, waited briefly, and pushed back in until my balls nestled against his perineum. Then I circled my hips, feeling the change of pressure around my length, the ripples of pleasure spreading through my cock, my underbelly, even to my own ass that ached in sympathy. I wished I’d had a plug with me. Next time? Because I already knew this was not a one-time thing. No way. Blow jobs at work were not going to cut it anymore. I barely got a taste of Joel, but I knew…

And complications? This was worth it. Worth anything.

Joel keened as I repeated the same a few times—the longest and deepest of strokes—and then I went faster, hard hits into his body, my balls slapping against his skin. He collapsed under me but immediately lifted his hips, scrambling for purchase on the soft bedding. I paused to stuff a pillow under him, and he spread his legs wide, his face hidden in his arms as he lay on his stomach, begging.

“Harder! Fucking. Pound. Into me.” He was hoarse, his speech warped by strain and need.

I pulled out to the tip, holding myself propped on my arms, watching the spot where we were connected, and then I obliged. I stared at the vast span of his back, the muscles contracting, struggling against the power of my thrusts.

Raw joy was what I felt, and it terrified me. Usually, I was quite calm about sex. Don’t get me wrong, I wildly enjoyed the mechanics of it, I loved the lust, the desire, I loved feeling wanted and wanting. But I never lost control. Until the very end, even being aroused as much as I could bear to be, even just before release, I never ever lost the awareness of my whole self.

Now…

I didn’t know where to start. I wanted to fuck him even harder, and if my body had the actual capacity to drill into him like a jackhammer, I would have. I also wanted to lay still on top of him, my dick inside him balls-deep, and just to rock slowly until I’d spill into him with only a sigh of completion. I wanted to take my time and experience every single square inch of where we touched. And I wanted to turn him around and… Oh Jesus. I wanted to see him. I needed to see him. His face.

I backed off and stood by the edge of the bed. Joel whimpered with the loss of my cock. Turning his head, he looked at me with desperation.

“On your back,” I said.

He rolled immediately and held his legs under his knees, offering his body to me again. He didn’t say anything, but it was written all over his features: Please. Please. Please!

I wouldn’t have denied him anything. I wanted to see him lose his mind from pleasure because of me.

I took the single step that separated us, kneeled on the bed, braced myself on the backs of his thighs and pushed inside. Joel’s eyes rolled.

“Yesss!” he hissed.

His hard cock curved toward his belly button and it slapped against the skin in time with my thrusts, the pre-come leaving trails in the soft dark blond hair of Joel’s happy trail. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but they closed more often than not as he mewled and moaned. He looked mad with lust. And fucking gorgeous.

I saw it there, it was clear as day in his face—my cock stroked and soothed a kind of pain inside him. He needed this, needed me. Watching him folded underneath me, I wanted nothing more than to set him free and give him peace.

Screw the unspoken rules, to hell with restraint. I dropped down, covering his body, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He stiffened for just a fraction of a second before he went pliant in my arms and wrapped his legs around my waist. He pressed his face into the juncture of my shoulder and neck, sweat and saliva smearing on my skin as he tried to breathe while getting as close as he could. His hands roamed my back, then nails dug into my skin. His cock was trapped between our bellies, and I felt it rubbing on my abdomen with every thrust.

Angling my hips just right, I plunged in with force, keeping a tight grip around his back and shoulders so I could fuck him hard and fast.

“Ty… Tyler…” he forced out.

Impossibly, I found the strength to speed up even more.

Joel’s moans turned into continuous sobs. He was close. He was going to come on my cock. Oh god, yes! His body was scorching hot in my arms and the sweat between us made it difficult to keep my hold on him.

I retreated a few inches so I could slam into him brutally in a rapid sequence. Two, four, seven punishing fucks at the perfect angle. He yelled.

His ring spasmed around me, and I heard myself groan. He was coming. Joel was coming impaled on my cock, his hands clutching my neck and his cock pulsing between us. My face a breath away from his, I could see him and feel the air leaving his lungs. Mouth open wide, eyes squeezed shut, deep blush flooding his skin…the muscles in his cheeks and around his jaw relaxed from their rigid strain and went slack with euphoria.

His orgasm continued on and on as I fucked him through it, mesmerized. The long guttural sounds he made echoed in the hotel room, and my hips stuttered. My balls drew up painfully, and I felt the wave rise from deep within. The ecstasy blinded me, and I lost sight of Joel’s face as I pushed once more into his clenching asshole and spilled my release deep inside him.

His hand on my nape stroked gently, coaxing me back to consciousness. I lifted my head from the crook of his neck to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft, and I knew that look. I recognized it from other faces, directed at lovers, but not at me. It was how Adam gazed at Christoffer.

Joel’s insanely beautiful clear blue eyes shone with gratitude. And affection. It changed his whole face; he always looked inhumanly gorgeous, but now he was angelic, glistening with sweat, and somehow…open. I could see his very soul straining to get closer to the surface. Heavy-lidded eyes framed with long soft lashes roamed over me, and his parted lips smiled almost imperceptibly, but I saw it.

I gave up any remaining restraint. I bent and caught his upper lip between mine. I nipped at it once, then his lower lip, and he opened up for me, his tongue meeting mine. The first taste.

On a groan, I licked inside his mouth, angling my head so I could delve deeper. Joel made a sound which was suspiciously close to a sob and then he met me with hunger.

A kiss. The longest, deepest, single most erotic kiss of my life. Our first kiss while my still hard cock was tucked inside his hole as if it was meant to live there.

I rocked us gently, our over-sensitized body parts sliding and grinding, and Joel trembled, kissing me back. He only stopped to breathe then he squeezed my nape and dragged me back down, so he could lick at my lips and suck on my tongue more. His other hand gripped my ass cheek, and his hips strained closer as he struggled to keep my cock inside him.

We’d already fucked. We’d both come. But this…this was making love. I never wanted it to stop. I already plotted in my head how I could keep him there in that impersonal hotel room for a few minutes longer.

Inevitably, my cock went soft and started slipping out. Damned biological function.

I pulled out with regret and sat between Joel’s thighs. He watched me wordlessly. We really weren’t good at the whole talking thing. I ditched the condom on the floor and ran my hand along his leg. He lay back, spread out and limp. I caressed his tired dick and ran a finger through the come smears on his stomach. He blinked slowly.

“Shower with me?” I asked, not really meaning to whisper. It just felt like I shouldn’t break the peaceful hush covering us.

He nodded and sat, his face ending up just a foot from mine. He raised his hand and stroked my cheek. I covered his hand with mine and kissed him again. He tasted of salt and me.

Joel tasted like he was mine—what a dangerous thought.

I tugged him up into a standing position and led him to the bathroom. The shower stall wasn’t huge, but we could comfortably stand together. I set the water on pleasantly warm and made space for Joel to step under the stream.

He bowed his head and let the water run down his back. I stroked his muscles, massaging, and I pushed my thumbs into the dimples above his ass. He leaned back, placing his head on my shoulder. I took the shower gel, lathered his torso and arms and rubbed at the clogging come on his belly. I washed his cock which was half-hard now again, and then I stepped back a few inches to run my soaped fingers through his crack.

Joel braced himself on the shower wall and spread his legs. I stroked over his hole, lathering and washing. Jesus, I wanted back inside him already. Since it had been a night of broken rules and following unguarded impulses, I dropped on my knees behind him.

“Open,” I said. He spread his legs wider, and pushed his ass out. Gorgeous.

Some of the water flowed along his crack and over his balls. I reached around him and turned down the stream to a drizzle to keep us warm.

Then I grabbed his ass cheeks and kneaded them. Joel looked back underneath his arm, clear blue eyes vulnerable. I met them shortly before I closed mine and dove in.

First, I only kissed his pucker. A touch of lips on the wrinkled skin that lead to the most amazing place my cock had ever been. Then I lingered, opening my mouth and teasing the flesh with the tip of my tongue. Joel trembled but held still. Poor baby, he was going to feel me in his ass for a few days after the pounding he’d received. I wanted to soothe him, take care of him.

I willfully made myself focus on the sensations, on the firm muscles under my palms, and the fantastic asshole I was going to worship. I was crazy about sensitive asses. And Joel’s was magical. First, he’d demanded a reaming, then he’d wanted my cock to stay lodged inside him as if he’d bleed if I unplugged him. And now he bowed his spine for more. The sounds he made with just a fleeting touch over his pucker were like a glorious fanfare only for me.

I licked over his entrance.

“Ahhhh!”

Again.

“Tyler!”

I started making firm circles over his pucker with my tongue, and Joel groaned. He angled his hips further back and clung to the wall.

I grabbed his hips, so I could hold him still as I licked inside his hole. I tasted traces of lube, and it irked me. My come should be dripping out of him. Instead, it was tied in a condom on the bedroom floor.

I licked his asshole and fucked it with my tongue until we were both hard again. He was incredible, circling his hips on my tongue, moaning and muttering broken words of praise.

I pushed one finger inside and found his gland.

“Tyler!”

“Jerk yourself,” I ordered.

I pulled my finger out and held his ass cheeks, watching his dilated, glistening hole as he stroked his cock desperately. The small dark opening was so inviting. I would fuck him again. Not tonight. But soon.

I dove back in, licking over his open asshole and tonguing his relaxed rim.

“Yeaaaah!” he groaned, the vibrations in his body telling me he was stroking himself lightning fast and coming already.

I pushed my tongue inside so I could feel his ring contract.

This time, his sounds were different. Deeper, quieter, more drawn out.

I soothed his hole with a few more licks before I stood and caught him in my arms. He was close to passing out. I supported his weight and washed the rest of the come off his thigh and the shower wall. I rinsed my mouth. He kept clinging to me, and I felt his kisses on my collarbones. I let the water stream over us a while longer. The familiar fear began creeping closer—what would happen in the morning? Would I become a complication again?

Joel rested his head on my shoulder as I dried him with a towel. I kissed his temple and led him to the bed.

He sank on his back, his eyes half closed. He extended his arm toward me as if worried I would leave.

“Just a second,” I said.

His eyes followed me as I plucked the used condom from the floor and threw it into the bin in the bathroom. I washed my hands quickly, hit the light and went back to Joel. I caught his hand in mine and climbed onto the bed, settling next to him.

“You only came once,” he said, as I lay facing him.

“I’ll just fuck your face tomorrow then, when the need strikes.”

He turned his head to me, flashing me a look. His lips twitched.

Then he laughed. Joel laughed an honest, heartfelt, belly laugh, and it sounded fucking fantastic.

He fell asleep minutes later. I rolled closer so that our arms touched when we slept.