* * *
Good Morning to You!
George slept in sort of a half-aroused fever dream, engulfed in the arms of a giant who kept him warm and safe and horny.
“Mm…” George whined a little, because he scooted back and bumped something that penetrated, titillated, pulsed and throbbed. He reached behind himself, arching so he could… wait, was something in his ass?
“You are needy?” A voice purred in his ear, and George came fully awake.
Jai. He was in the tent with Jai, surrounded by the smells of canvas and the sharp high desert of the Tehachapi Mountains–and sex. And Jai. The darkness around them was complete, but there was a sharpness in the air that indicated dawn was close.
Jai thrust up against his backside, and the plug he’d left in only a few hours before was tapped hard, and suddenly George was awake and dawn wasn’t the only thing that was close.
“Oh my God!” He was loud–louder than he’d meant to be–and Jai’s hand came up in front of his mouth.
“Sh,” he whispered. “Should I get the gag again?”
George shuddered, all of his pleasure synapses firing at once.
“Depends,” he said breathily. “Are we going to go fast or slow?”
Jai chuckled softly and nuzzled his shoulder, his ear, from behind. “Both.”
George moaned–but quietly. “No gag,” he begged. “Just… just now.”
HIs rim must have swollen around the plug, because Jai needed to add some lube to it to pull it out, and the ache was just on the ledge of pleasure and pain. And then Jai’s cock, huge and slick, was right there to take it’s place, and George felt tears start at his eyes. It didn’t hurt, but the fullness, the sense that he’d never come down from that first orgasm, was overwhelming.
“It’s okay, little George,” Jai said, his thumbs brushing at the tears even as he moved, thrusting slowly and steadily inside George’s willingly given body. “I’m taking you over, but I’ll be kind.”
George let out a breath with no voice, and his own cock grew and throbbed. Jai kept fucking, but his hands–his hands were exploring. George’s chest, his thighs, plucking his nipples, stroking his cock… George kept all his voices to himself, the hush of the dark morning helping to make this a moment in a bubble, a quiet all to themselves. “Okay,” he said brokenly. “Okay.”
Jai picked up speed.
George captured Jai’s hand as he plucked George’s nipple, needing to clutch something. His body was doing a slow roll, almost a preparation to orgasm, a leviathan sexual wakeup, and he was flying, lost in the dark, only Jai’s ragged breathing and his hand keeping him tethered to their bed on the floor of the tent.
“Don’t let go,” Jai rumbled.
“Don’t stop,” George begged.
“Let me stroke you. I am close.”
George wrapped his fingers around Jai’s wrist as Jai closed his hand over George’s cock and stroked slowly, in time to his thrusts. The contact made the stroking delirious, an extension of George’s own touch, and he was just swimmy enough from waking up in a full state of arousal for the sensation to amp his need exponentially.
And up and up and up and up… George released Jai’s wrist so he could bite down on his palm, because swat was breaking out over his forehead, his chest, and his orgasm rolled through him, slow and huge, and he needed to stifle his cry.
He creamed up over Jai’s fist, and behind him he heard Jai’s slow, tortured breath as he convulsed inside George’s ass, the torrent of come scalding and real as the two of them rode the wave together.
The come down was shakier this time.
Jai held his hand, covered in spend, up to George’s mouth, and George lapped dreamily, because he was in no place to say no to anything sexual right now. The act, filthy and fulfilling, almost soothed him. What they’d done had been animal and real and the bitterness proved it.
When he was done, their breathing subsided, and George realized his backside was dripping around Jai’s softening cock and he had no urge to wash himself.
“Sleep?” he asked groggily.
“That… I’m going to need more of that. And more and more and more…” His voice wandered dreamily. “It’s like heroin. A drug. I’m feeling so high…”
Jai nuzzled his neck again. “Next month, I shall bring all my pretty toys,” he promised direly. “And you will forget you can have sex with other men.”
“I can’t.” George was out of it–but he was also candid. “Whole life, boring. You, here, now, is electricity and fire. No more sex for other men. Ruined me. Wrecked my asshole. In a good way.”
Jai chuckled. “So, there will be a next month?” He sounded… wistful. Hopeful. Like he wanted the answer to be yes, but he wasn’t sure.
“Do you have any bodies in the trunk?” he asked.
“Not this trip.”
Ah, well, nobody was perfect. “As long as there’s no bodies in the trunk, there’s always a next month.” He felt wise as he pronounced this, but Jai’s wounded sound surprised him.
“I shall be careful to never have bodies in my trunk with you,” he said, and as much as it should have been a joke, it sounded like a true promise.
“Okay. I promise we’ll do this again.”
“Thank you.” Jai rested his cheek on the top of George’s head, and George had enough consciousness for one more word.
“Thank you. Was wonderful.”
“You deserve no less, sweet man. Now sleep.”
George closed his eyes, limp and used and happy. When he awoke in the morning, sunlight lit up the inside of the tent, although it was still chilly. The spot next to him was empty, but there was the sounds of something frying on a grill outside the tent, and the smell of bacon.
George’s body was loose and a little sore and a lot glorious. Wow. They’d done that. The smell of sex and the stretching in his backside and even the feeling of come on his thighs–it all made it real. George felt delicious and debauched and cared for–and he wanted that man outside frying him bacon to know that this was all his doing, and George had developed more than an attachment or an attraction for him.
George had developed a crush.
Imagine what more could develop in the course of the day.