fic: Hot Fuss - parts 1 and 2 (2005/2007)
Hot Fuss
Chapter/Part Two: Michael
Andy’s POV
It was a guy that I had met in an online chat room that had brought me to Hot Fuss the first time. Had it not been for him, I never would’ve known about the place. I never did meet the guy in person-a bit too paranoid for that, and he wasn’t that great, anyways. Instead, I went to Hot Fuss to see if the fuss really was so hot, and indeed it was. The dance floor writhed with beautiful, scrumptious manflesh, some fully clothed, but most in various states of undress, all without showing too much, or rather, enough.
The setting put me at ease instantly. I never would have thought myself a club person, but it was so easy to fall into the atmosphere, and my advances could be as bold and free as I wanted-something I could never do in a heterosexual-dominated world. So I let loose a few times a month at the club up in Madison. It was such a relief, to be able to do that without worry.
A short time after I started going to Hot Fuss, I saw a boy. Or rather, the boy: Michael. I knew in an instant that I wanted him; he was beautiful and he danced like there was nothing else in the world. He made dancing into something so much more: an art, a release of everything that could be hurtful or depressing, and something just plain dirty, in the best sense of the word. Oh, just to dance with him…it was enough for me, at first. Beautiful Michael, in that tight-fitting leather and studded belt. He left me hard every time I danced with him, but I never thought I could truly have him.
And then fate decided to show me a bit of favor.
My second semester of school that year, there he was, in PE, trying to evade the homophobic jokes in the locker room. I could’ve jumped him right there, before class, with everyone looking, but I’m not a total idiot. But I waited until after class, after everyone had left. And only then it was just a kiss, but it was electrifying. The first kiss with the boy that I wanted all to myself. Sticky sweet lips, and the image of Michael in his leather at Hot Fuss surfacing in my mind; it left my mind drugged. And then he brushed past, and I was crushed, but determined to make him mine.
A week passed, and I wasn’t able to get him alone again, so I decided on the next best thing-I gave him my phone number and told him to call. I asked him to meet me at Hot Fuss, and so he did, and I got yet another kiss out of him. Two, in fact. Back on the dance floor after, I let my hands wander, brushing him where I would much rather feel bare skin than leather and cotton. Oh, I wanted to dance with him, alright. I wanted to dance with him pressed skin to skin, sex to sex, touching as much of him as possible. But I’d do it away from Hot Fuss, where hungry eyes gazed upon nude bodies, wanting a piece of this or that.
It was an excruciating Sunday followed by an even more painful Monday at school before I was able to have Michael to myself. It was endearing, how shy he was in a different setting than Hot Fuss, and even a little surprising, and I had to work to make him stay and not fly away, but the work was certainly worth it. Definitely worth it.
Michael was so lovely, dancing in my kitchen. He was everything I could ever want, physically, and his carefree dancing just plain did it for me. Before either of us could really think, I lead him to my room, where I worshipped him, albeit a bit more hurriedly than I would’ve liked. I couldn’t help the spill of seed as his voice, bent in pleasure, fell upon my ears, and I couldn’t help the tug of fondness at the tears in his eyes after he had come.
He ran again after that, with a love bite marking him. But this time, I knew I wouldn’t have to work to make him come back. Not tonight.
It’s still cold out; after all, it’s only mid-January, but the cold is softened by the late night snowfall. Everything has a slight glow to it in the moonlight; it’s lovely, and it makes me smile. My smile turns into something more like a leer as I think of my plan for the night.
It’s the weekend, and my parents are gone again. This time they’ve holed themselves up in their cabin up north and they won’t be back for a week, maybe even longer if the weather keeps up. Michael doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him. It’s a lot more fun if he thinks that my parents could come back and walk in on us. I have everything prepared: a bed of fluffy blankets spread out in the middle of the living room, the curtains open to let in the moonlight and let us watch as the snow falls without worrying about the cold. Michael, on that blanket, as I show him how much I want him: the moonlight falling on his skin, gracing his compact yet thin masculine figure with the same glow that it does the world outside. Delicious.
I stop walking once I’m outside his house, taking a second to warm my hands with my breath before I pull out my cell phone and dial Michael’s number. The phone rings before going to his voicemail, and I try again. This time, Michael’s voice, thick with sleep, answers.
“’lo?”
“Hello, Michael,” I reply, keeping my voice low. “Come outside and take a walk with me.”
“Andy? ‘S…” a slight pause, “twelve-thirty.”
“Yes,” I say simply.
A short pause and then: “Snowing. And cold.”
“Come and dance with me, Michael. In the snow, and the moonlight. I want to see you dance in the moonlight,” I purr. “I’m waiting for you.” I hang up and wait.
A few minutes later, Michael emerges from his front door, closing it gently behind him before walking over to meet me. His short black hair sticks out in strange spikes here and there, and he has a light dusting of stubble on his face; grey eyes stare me down despite the blur of sleep. He’s wearing a pair of worn and faded jeans, and a black jacket over his oversized navy sweater. Most likely there’s still another layer under that sweater…well, it won’t be a big problem.
“Andy, are you crazy? What do you want, coming here in the middle of the night, and in a snowstorm?” He glares at me-a look that’s softened, but still hot with anger for waking him…and maybe a little something else.
I close the distance between us and tilt his head, setting a gentle kiss against his lips. “Because you’re a beautiful boy, and a snowy winter night is the most beautiful dance floor. I want to see you dance in the moonlight. And then I want to take you home and warm you up.” I stroke his bottom lip with my thumb. “So come and dance with me, Michael.”
Michael’s eyes darken as he pulls the tip of my thumb into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it before pulling away; I shiver. “Are you home alone?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“At least until the morning.” I smile and grab one of his hands in mine. “Come on.” I tug at him, and he lets out a sigh and follows as I start walking back to my house.
In the middle of the deserted street near my house, I stop and pull him close again. “I told you I wanted to see you dance in the moonlight.” I put my hand on his chest and kiss him again before he can respond, and start moving the same as I would at Hot Fuss. My hands wandering, touching his hips, my eyes meeting his in an intense gaze as he moves with me, both of us dancing to some unheard rhythm. “Beautiful,” I whisper. Soon enough our tongues are the ones doing the dancing, and I pull away, hurrying us both to my front door.
Michael shivers as I help relieve him of his clothes, and soon I too am shivering, clad only in my jeans and boxers below. My hardness is trapped there, but I make no move to release it. I only kiss Michael until he is standing in the middle of my makeshift bed, and then on his knees. Our tongues dance, sliding wetly over one another, each probing the other’s mouth.
I break away and push him down until he lies on his back, steely gray eyes looking up at me, and the moonlight falling on his bare skin. “You’re so sexy,” I murmur, tracing a path down his chest and stomach with a finger. His breath hitches as my finger trails along the waistband of his briefs, just under his jeans. I readjust my position until I am kneeling, straddling his thighs. I gently press my hand against his groin, feeling the warm stiffness that lies below the fabric.
“Andy!” he gasps, and I smile before leaning down and slowly capturing his lips with my own. His mouth is pliant and soft, granting me entrance, and I kiss him slowly, deliberately, and deeply, exploring him with my tongue. I drag my tongue along his teeth, over the roof of his mouth, sliding it against his tongue. A slight moan escapes me involuntarily, but Michael’s wet mouth is emitting moans more than mine. I pull his lip between my teeth, sucking on it, and then giving it a gentle bite as I look into his eyes. I can feel his breath becoming shorter, and mine as well, as I move to his neck, one hand holding me up, and the other tracing his torso. I move my hand up and rub my thumb over a nipple, eliciting a lovely, deep sound of pleasure.
I smirk and leave his neck, nipping at his collarbone as I move to his nipples. Andy lets out a little squeak, and his hands grasp at my head and shoulder as I swirl a circle around first one, and then the other nipple. “Does it feel good?” I purr, moving a little faster, trailing my tongue to the center of his chest, and then down his stomach, stopping to dip my tongue in his navel. I lift my head up and look to see him nodding, his eyes squeezed shut. I shift back on his legs, biting my lip to distract myself from the blood pumping, going to my groin to make my cock stiff. Once I have enough room, I lean back down and lay kisses along the fine dusting of hair disappearing into his pants, my hands a bit shaky but still deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
I pull at his jeans, peeling them down his legs, releasing Michael’s hardened manhood as the briefs come with. There’s a slight awkwardness as the two of us struggle to remove what’s left of his clothes, but it’s wonderful once they’ve been thrown aside: Michael stands erect and waiting. My own hand reaches down, into my pants, to touch myself, needing to feel something besides the confines of my clothes. I close my eyes for a second, relishing in the sensation, but I stop and stare down at Michael. He returns my gaze hotly, darkly, his mouth slightly open in a little “o” and I feel myself grow even hotter as his hands reach up to dance on my hips. Both of us breathe heavily as I stretch out against him, kissing his mouth as my still-clothed groin presses against his nude one.
Michael’s hand on my chest pushes us apart. “Andy, please,” he gasps. He tugs at my waistband. “Off!”
I lean in and kiss his ear. “Only if you take them off,” I murmur, before tugging at his ear with my teeth. Michael nods, and I’m painfully aware of his shaking hands reaching down between us to undo my pants. His hips twitch up against mine and we both gasp. I quickly shift my body so that I’m on my side, facing Michael, and he shifts to face me, his hands finally fulfilling their duty as he begins peeling away my pants and boxers. I let out a quivering sigh of relief as my member falls free of the fabric, and he tosses my clothes aside. My sigh turns into a groan when Michael runs his knuckles up my shaft, slowly at first, and then he’s grasping me and holding our cocks tight against one another, giving me a sultry look as he strokes up and then lets go of both of us. He stares at me for a moment longer before kissing me, and we spend a few long moments exploring each other’s mouths again, pressing our groins together.
I pull away again and push Michael onto his back again, rising up onto my knees, wedging myself between his legs. I spread them apart, bending his knees up. My hand gropes for the lube that I had put aside earlier. I quickly open it one-handed and squeeze some into my hand, then spread it over my hardened member. “Can I…?” I reach down to his opening with my slick hand, running my finger around the rim but not pushing in.
“Please…” Michael nods, flushed and panting. “Just be-“
“Gentle,” I finish for him, slowly pushing my finger into him. He nods, eyes squeezing shut. A moment later: “Another?” Nod. I push a second finger into him, and without warning, a third, causing his breath to hitch. “So tight,” I murmur, licking my lips in anticipation. My cock twitches appreciatively, as well, and I scissor my fingers, causing him to squirm. I lean down so that my face is next to his. “I’m going to put it in now.” I nip at his ear and quickly remove my fingers, positioning myself at his opening. Michael lets out a strangled cry as I slowly, carefully push my cock into him. It’s all I can do to keep from fucking him hard, to feel that tight sheath of him move around my most sensitive organ. I wait for a second, taking short breaths and holding as still as I can. “Is it okay?”
Michael’s eyes open wide and look up at me. His chest rises rapidly, and he breathes “Yes.” I pull out almost completely and bite my lip, making sure that my thrust is slow and gentle. I fall into a slow rhythm, watching Michael’s face, though gradually I speed my pace. I bend down and capture his lips with the next thrust, and he moans loudly into my mouth as my hand finds his pulsing cock. His hands clutch at my back, his nails digging in, but I don’t mind. “Andy!” he cries, and his voice speeds my thrusts even further, my hand sliding over his member in the same rhythm. Everything speeds and blurs together, until suddenly I’m burning like I could never have imagined, and I burst into Michael’s tight insides. Michael comes a heartbeat later, clenching his around me, and then we both lay panting, Michael’s seed spilled over us and glistening in the moonlight.
“Michael,” I breathe, finding my voice. I pull out of him and lay an affectionate kiss on his forehead. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want so badly,” I murmur, my lips finding his eyelids and gracing them with kisses, as well. I kiss his neck, relishing in the salty sweetness of his skin, sucking at it.
“Mmm, Andy,” he sighs, stroking my back. My lips quirk into a smile against his skin at hearing his voice say my name. I sit up and stare at him in the moonlight: his body, still a little flushed, but the blood flowing slower, leaving his skin nearly pale again, and the white seed thick and sticky on his skin. I bend down and lick it from his skin, rolling the taste in my mouth.
“It tastes like…” I suck at a bit of skin covered in it. “It tastes like pleasure,” I say finally, and I lick at his skin until it’s clean, licking my way down until-
“Aaah!!” Michael moans as I take in his reawakened cock. I lave it with my tongue and suck. I reach down to my own crotch and touch myself, turned on by Michael’s sounds of pleasure. Quickly a fresh wave of seed spurts into my mouth with a sexy cry from Michael, and I swallow it, albeit with difficulty, since I’m not exactly experienced. I kiss a trail back up to Michael’s mouth, working my own cock, until his hand takes over the job. I shudder at the electric feel of it, and soon after come into his fist.
I catch my breath again as I lay against Michael. Such a sweet, sweet boy. I get up wearily and close the drapes, his eyes following my movement, before returning to our bed of fluffy blankets. I grab my discarded t-shirt and wipe us both clean of seed, and toss it aside. Smiling at him, I whisper, “That was amazing.” Michael nods sleepily and pulls me down to him. Another sweet kiss, and we snuggle together as I wrap a loose blanket around us. I drift asleep to the sound of chael’s steady breathing and the feel of his arms around me.
Chapter/Part Two: Michael
Andy’s POV
It was a guy that I had met in an online chat room that had brought me to Hot Fuss the first time. Had it not been for him, I never would’ve known about the place. I never did meet the guy in person-a bit too paranoid for that, and he wasn’t that great, anyways. Instead, I went to Hot Fuss to see if the fuss really was so hot, and indeed it was. The dance floor writhed with beautiful, scrumptious manflesh, some fully clothed, but most in various states of undress, all without showing too much, or rather, enough.
The setting put me at ease instantly. I never would have thought myself a club person, but it was so easy to fall into the atmosphere, and my advances could be as bold and free as I wanted-something I could never do in a heterosexual-dominated world. So I let loose a few times a month at the club up in Madison. It was such a relief, to be able to do that without worry.
A short time after I started going to Hot Fuss, I saw a boy. Or rather, the boy: Michael. I knew in an instant that I wanted him; he was beautiful and he danced like there was nothing else in the world. He made dancing into something so much more: an art, a release of everything that could be hurtful or depressing, and something just plain dirty, in the best sense of the word. Oh, just to dance with him…it was enough for me, at first. Beautiful Michael, in that tight-fitting leather and studded belt. He left me hard every time I danced with him, but I never thought I could truly have him.
And then fate decided to show me a bit of favor.
My second semester of school that year, there he was, in PE, trying to evade the homophobic jokes in the locker room. I could’ve jumped him right there, before class, with everyone looking, but I’m not a total idiot. But I waited until after class, after everyone had left. And only then it was just a kiss, but it was electrifying. The first kiss with the boy that I wanted all to myself. Sticky sweet lips, and the image of Michael in his leather at Hot Fuss surfacing in my mind; it left my mind drugged. And then he brushed past, and I was crushed, but determined to make him mine.
A week passed, and I wasn’t able to get him alone again, so I decided on the next best thing-I gave him my phone number and told him to call. I asked him to meet me at Hot Fuss, and so he did, and I got yet another kiss out of him. Two, in fact. Back on the dance floor after, I let my hands wander, brushing him where I would much rather feel bare skin than leather and cotton. Oh, I wanted to dance with him, alright. I wanted to dance with him pressed skin to skin, sex to sex, touching as much of him as possible. But I’d do it away from Hot Fuss, where hungry eyes gazed upon nude bodies, wanting a piece of this or that.
It was an excruciating Sunday followed by an even more painful Monday at school before I was able to have Michael to myself. It was endearing, how shy he was in a different setting than Hot Fuss, and even a little surprising, and I had to work to make him stay and not fly away, but the work was certainly worth it. Definitely worth it.
Michael was so lovely, dancing in my kitchen. He was everything I could ever want, physically, and his carefree dancing just plain did it for me. Before either of us could really think, I lead him to my room, where I worshipped him, albeit a bit more hurriedly than I would’ve liked. I couldn’t help the spill of seed as his voice, bent in pleasure, fell upon my ears, and I couldn’t help the tug of fondness at the tears in his eyes after he had come.
He ran again after that, with a love bite marking him. But this time, I knew I wouldn’t have to work to make him come back. Not tonight.
It’s still cold out; after all, it’s only mid-January, but the cold is softened by the late night snowfall. Everything has a slight glow to it in the moonlight; it’s lovely, and it makes me smile. My smile turns into something more like a leer as I think of my plan for the night.
It’s the weekend, and my parents are gone again. This time they’ve holed themselves up in their cabin up north and they won’t be back for a week, maybe even longer if the weather keeps up. Michael doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him. It’s a lot more fun if he thinks that my parents could come back and walk in on us. I have everything prepared: a bed of fluffy blankets spread out in the middle of the living room, the curtains open to let in the moonlight and let us watch as the snow falls without worrying about the cold. Michael, on that blanket, as I show him how much I want him: the moonlight falling on his skin, gracing his compact yet thin masculine figure with the same glow that it does the world outside. Delicious.
I stop walking once I’m outside his house, taking a second to warm my hands with my breath before I pull out my cell phone and dial Michael’s number. The phone rings before going to his voicemail, and I try again. This time, Michael’s voice, thick with sleep, answers.
“’lo?”
“Hello, Michael,” I reply, keeping my voice low. “Come outside and take a walk with me.”
“Andy? ‘S…” a slight pause, “twelve-thirty.”
“Yes,” I say simply.
A short pause and then: “Snowing. And cold.”
“Come and dance with me, Michael. In the snow, and the moonlight. I want to see you dance in the moonlight,” I purr. “I’m waiting for you.” I hang up and wait.
A few minutes later, Michael emerges from his front door, closing it gently behind him before walking over to meet me. His short black hair sticks out in strange spikes here and there, and he has a light dusting of stubble on his face; grey eyes stare me down despite the blur of sleep. He’s wearing a pair of worn and faded jeans, and a black jacket over his oversized navy sweater. Most likely there’s still another layer under that sweater…well, it won’t be a big problem.
“Andy, are you crazy? What do you want, coming here in the middle of the night, and in a snowstorm?” He glares at me-a look that’s softened, but still hot with anger for waking him…and maybe a little something else.
I close the distance between us and tilt his head, setting a gentle kiss against his lips. “Because you’re a beautiful boy, and a snowy winter night is the most beautiful dance floor. I want to see you dance in the moonlight. And then I want to take you home and warm you up.” I stroke his bottom lip with my thumb. “So come and dance with me, Michael.”
Michael’s eyes darken as he pulls the tip of my thumb into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it before pulling away; I shiver. “Are you home alone?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“At least until the morning.” I smile and grab one of his hands in mine. “Come on.” I tug at him, and he lets out a sigh and follows as I start walking back to my house.
In the middle of the deserted street near my house, I stop and pull him close again. “I told you I wanted to see you dance in the moonlight.” I put my hand on his chest and kiss him again before he can respond, and start moving the same as I would at Hot Fuss. My hands wandering, touching his hips, my eyes meeting his in an intense gaze as he moves with me, both of us dancing to some unheard rhythm. “Beautiful,” I whisper. Soon enough our tongues are the ones doing the dancing, and I pull away, hurrying us both to my front door.
Michael shivers as I help relieve him of his clothes, and soon I too am shivering, clad only in my jeans and boxers below. My hardness is trapped there, but I make no move to release it. I only kiss Michael until he is standing in the middle of my makeshift bed, and then on his knees. Our tongues dance, sliding wetly over one another, each probing the other’s mouth.
I break away and push him down until he lies on his back, steely gray eyes looking up at me, and the moonlight falling on his bare skin. “You’re so sexy,” I murmur, tracing a path down his chest and stomach with a finger. His breath hitches as my finger trails along the waistband of his briefs, just under his jeans. I readjust my position until I am kneeling, straddling his thighs. I gently press my hand against his groin, feeling the warm stiffness that lies below the fabric.
“Andy!” he gasps, and I smile before leaning down and slowly capturing his lips with my own. His mouth is pliant and soft, granting me entrance, and I kiss him slowly, deliberately, and deeply, exploring him with my tongue. I drag my tongue along his teeth, over the roof of his mouth, sliding it against his tongue. A slight moan escapes me involuntarily, but Michael’s wet mouth is emitting moans more than mine. I pull his lip between my teeth, sucking on it, and then giving it a gentle bite as I look into his eyes. I can feel his breath becoming shorter, and mine as well, as I move to his neck, one hand holding me up, and the other tracing his torso. I move my hand up and rub my thumb over a nipple, eliciting a lovely, deep sound of pleasure.
I smirk and leave his neck, nipping at his collarbone as I move to his nipples. Andy lets out a little squeak, and his hands grasp at my head and shoulder as I swirl a circle around first one, and then the other nipple. “Does it feel good?” I purr, moving a little faster, trailing my tongue to the center of his chest, and then down his stomach, stopping to dip my tongue in his navel. I lift my head up and look to see him nodding, his eyes squeezed shut. I shift back on his legs, biting my lip to distract myself from the blood pumping, going to my groin to make my cock stiff. Once I have enough room, I lean back down and lay kisses along the fine dusting of hair disappearing into his pants, my hands a bit shaky but still deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
I pull at his jeans, peeling them down his legs, releasing Michael’s hardened manhood as the briefs come with. There’s a slight awkwardness as the two of us struggle to remove what’s left of his clothes, but it’s wonderful once they’ve been thrown aside: Michael stands erect and waiting. My own hand reaches down, into my pants, to touch myself, needing to feel something besides the confines of my clothes. I close my eyes for a second, relishing in the sensation, but I stop and stare down at Michael. He returns my gaze hotly, darkly, his mouth slightly open in a little “o” and I feel myself grow even hotter as his hands reach up to dance on my hips. Both of us breathe heavily as I stretch out against him, kissing his mouth as my still-clothed groin presses against his nude one.
Michael’s hand on my chest pushes us apart. “Andy, please,” he gasps. He tugs at my waistband. “Off!”
I lean in and kiss his ear. “Only if you take them off,” I murmur, before tugging at his ear with my teeth. Michael nods, and I’m painfully aware of his shaking hands reaching down between us to undo my pants. His hips twitch up against mine and we both gasp. I quickly shift my body so that I’m on my side, facing Michael, and he shifts to face me, his hands finally fulfilling their duty as he begins peeling away my pants and boxers. I let out a quivering sigh of relief as my member falls free of the fabric, and he tosses my clothes aside. My sigh turns into a groan when Michael runs his knuckles up my shaft, slowly at first, and then he’s grasping me and holding our cocks tight against one another, giving me a sultry look as he strokes up and then lets go of both of us. He stares at me for a moment longer before kissing me, and we spend a few long moments exploring each other’s mouths again, pressing our groins together.
I pull away again and push Michael onto his back again, rising up onto my knees, wedging myself between his legs. I spread them apart, bending his knees up. My hand gropes for the lube that I had put aside earlier. I quickly open it one-handed and squeeze some into my hand, then spread it over my hardened member. “Can I…?” I reach down to his opening with my slick hand, running my finger around the rim but not pushing in.
“Please…” Michael nods, flushed and panting. “Just be-“
“Gentle,” I finish for him, slowly pushing my finger into him. He nods, eyes squeezing shut. A moment later: “Another?” Nod. I push a second finger into him, and without warning, a third, causing his breath to hitch. “So tight,” I murmur, licking my lips in anticipation. My cock twitches appreciatively, as well, and I scissor my fingers, causing him to squirm. I lean down so that my face is next to his. “I’m going to put it in now.” I nip at his ear and quickly remove my fingers, positioning myself at his opening. Michael lets out a strangled cry as I slowly, carefully push my cock into him. It’s all I can do to keep from fucking him hard, to feel that tight sheath of him move around my most sensitive organ. I wait for a second, taking short breaths and holding as still as I can. “Is it okay?”
Michael’s eyes open wide and look up at me. His chest rises rapidly, and he breathes “Yes.” I pull out almost completely and bite my lip, making sure that my thrust is slow and gentle. I fall into a slow rhythm, watching Michael’s face, though gradually I speed my pace. I bend down and capture his lips with the next thrust, and he moans loudly into my mouth as my hand finds his pulsing cock. His hands clutch at my back, his nails digging in, but I don’t mind. “Andy!” he cries, and his voice speeds my thrusts even further, my hand sliding over his member in the same rhythm. Everything speeds and blurs together, until suddenly I’m burning like I could never have imagined, and I burst into Michael’s tight insides. Michael comes a heartbeat later, clenching his around me, and then we both lay panting, Michael’s seed spilled over us and glistening in the moonlight.
“Michael,” I breathe, finding my voice. I pull out of him and lay an affectionate kiss on his forehead. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want so badly,” I murmur, my lips finding his eyelids and gracing them with kisses, as well. I kiss his neck, relishing in the salty sweetness of his skin, sucking at it.
“Mmm, Andy,” he sighs, stroking my back. My lips quirk into a smile against his skin at hearing his voice say my name. I sit up and stare at him in the moonlight: his body, still a little flushed, but the blood flowing slower, leaving his skin nearly pale again, and the white seed thick and sticky on his skin. I bend down and lick it from his skin, rolling the taste in my mouth.
“It tastes like…” I suck at a bit of skin covered in it. “It tastes like pleasure,” I say finally, and I lick at his skin until it’s clean, licking my way down until-
“Aaah!!” Michael moans as I take in his reawakened cock. I lave it with my tongue and suck. I reach down to my own crotch and touch myself, turned on by Michael’s sounds of pleasure. Quickly a fresh wave of seed spurts into my mouth with a sexy cry from Michael, and I swallow it, albeit with difficulty, since I’m not exactly experienced. I kiss a trail back up to Michael’s mouth, working my own cock, until his hand takes over the job. I shudder at the electric feel of it, and soon after come into his fist.
I catch my breath again as I lay against Michael. Such a sweet, sweet boy. I get up wearily and close the drapes, his eyes following my movement, before returning to our bed of fluffy blankets. I grab my discarded t-shirt and wipe us both clean of seed, and toss it aside. Smiling at him, I whisper, “That was amazing.” Michael nods sleepily and pulls me down to him. Another sweet kiss, and we snuggle together as I wrap a loose blanket around us. I drift asleep to the sound of chael’s steady breathing and the feel of his arms around me.