didn’t mind. He licked all around his thumb, then up and down the cleft, while Henry whimpered in stunned arousal. Martin lifted his head to suck Henry’s balls and fucked him with his thumb as he did it, watching Henry’s cock jerk in tandem with the spasms of his hole.
“Please,” Henry said. “ Please …” He sounded like he might cry.
Martin pulled his thumb out of Henry’s ass and spread his cheeks with both hands. Henry’s skin was shiny with saliva, his hole quivering. Martin bent and kissed him, sweet and slow with a gentle lick, just the tip of his tongue teasing at the rim. Henry made a choking sound and jerked beneath Martin’s mouth.
Martin wanted Henry to give in to pleasure, to lose himself. He wanted Henry to call his name. He wanted to make Henry feel so good he’d never have need of any other lover.
Martin kissed him again, a little rougher, scraping his teeth across the sensitive pucker, and Henry bucked beneath him and cried out, another desperate please! Martin licked him up and down and probed at his hole, coaxing him open, insinuating his way inside. Nibbling and kissing, making him whimper, making him melt. At last, he pushed the pointed tip of his tongue past clenching muscle to furious heat. Henry was delicate and close inside, the tissue soft as velvet; it was one thing to feel it with fingers, but it was special to know it like this, so intimate.
He licked Henry and fucked him with his tongue and pushed one finger and then two inside of him, and Henry panted and cried out and hitched his knees higher and opened for him, vulnerable and brave. Beloved dirty boy. Martin was nearly vibrating with the intensity of his arousal, his cock leaking onto the bedspread, and he wanted more than anything to feel Henry’s tight hole squeezing around him while he made them both come.
He lifted his mouth from Henry’s ass, fucking him with two fingers. Henry was glassy-eyed, his breathing harsh, his cock hard and dark. He looked at Martin with pleading eyes, tremulous mouth.
The eyes wanted an answer; the frightened smile pierced his heart. “Are you all right, Henry?”
With a soft groan, Henry tightened around Martin’s knuckles and hitched his knees higher, spreading himself wider. His lashes fluttered on his cheeks. He opened his eyes to look at Martin, pupils wide and black, and said, “I love you so much, Martin,” in a rough whisper.
“I love you, too.” Martin reached with his free hand for the oil bottle, then reluctantly withdrew his fingers from Henry’s body so he could grease his cock, Henry’s ass. Henry watched him do it and then reached for him, making little urgent grunts, and pulled him into a close, fierce embrace. They kissed deeply, passionately, and Henry shuddered when he tasted himself on Martin’s tongue.
Martin reached down between their bodies and positioned his cock. He broke off kissing, leaning his forehead against Henry’s and breathing his breath, and then pushed inside.
Smooth, tight, slick crush, as hot as blood. Martin’s voice was ragged as he breathed, “ Henry .” Henry replied with a wordless, desperate sound and clutched at Martin’s shoulders. Martin sat back on his heels, hands on the backs of Henry’s thighs, and tilted his hips, pushing deeper; he drew back and Henry shivered and squeezed around him. All the hairs stood up on Martin’s skin and his nipples tightened almost painfully hard. He looked down into Henry’s face, and saw that Henry trusted him, loved him, was sorry.
Oh, Henry .
He gave in to the urge to thrust hard, to fuck Henry at a punishing pace. His heart was a war drum, and his blood sang in his ears, but he listened over the roar of his own body for the evidence of Henry’s pleasure, a low keening broken by throaty cries, different from the sounds he made when he was on top, and the rough timbre of his voice went straight to Martin’s cock. Henry’s body clutched and pulled at him, and the drag on his cock was
“Please,” Henry said. “ Please …” He sounded like he might cry.
Martin pulled his thumb out of Henry’s ass and spread his cheeks with both hands. Henry’s skin was shiny with saliva, his hole quivering. Martin bent and kissed him, sweet and slow with a gentle lick, just the tip of his tongue teasing at the rim. Henry made a choking sound and jerked beneath Martin’s mouth.
Martin wanted Henry to give in to pleasure, to lose himself. He wanted Henry to call his name. He wanted to make Henry feel so good he’d never have need of any other lover.
Martin kissed him again, a little rougher, scraping his teeth across the sensitive pucker, and Henry bucked beneath him and cried out, another desperate please! Martin licked him up and down and probed at his hole, coaxing him open, insinuating his way inside. Nibbling and kissing, making him whimper, making him melt. At last, he pushed the pointed tip of his tongue past clenching muscle to furious heat. Henry was delicate and close inside, the tissue soft as velvet; it was one thing to feel it with fingers, but it was special to know it like this, so intimate.
He licked Henry and fucked him with his tongue and pushed one finger and then two inside of him, and Henry panted and cried out and hitched his knees higher and opened for him, vulnerable and brave. Beloved dirty boy. Martin was nearly vibrating with the intensity of his arousal, his cock leaking onto the bedspread, and he wanted more than anything to feel Henry’s tight hole squeezing around him while he made them both come.
He lifted his mouth from Henry’s ass, fucking him with two fingers. Henry was glassy-eyed, his breathing harsh, his cock hard and dark. He looked at Martin with pleading eyes, tremulous mouth.
The eyes wanted an answer; the frightened smile pierced his heart. “Are you all right, Henry?”
With a soft groan, Henry tightened around Martin’s knuckles and hitched his knees higher, spreading himself wider. His lashes fluttered on his cheeks. He opened his eyes to look at Martin, pupils wide and black, and said, “I love you so much, Martin,” in a rough whisper.
“I love you, too.” Martin reached with his free hand for the oil bottle, then reluctantly withdrew his fingers from Henry’s body so he could grease his cock, Henry’s ass. Henry watched him do it and then reached for him, making little urgent grunts, and pulled him into a close, fierce embrace. They kissed deeply, passionately, and Henry shuddered when he tasted himself on Martin’s tongue.
Martin reached down between their bodies and positioned his cock. He broke off kissing, leaning his forehead against Henry’s and breathing his breath, and then pushed inside.
Smooth, tight, slick crush, as hot as blood. Martin’s voice was ragged as he breathed, “ Henry .” Henry replied with a wordless, desperate sound and clutched at Martin’s shoulders. Martin sat back on his heels, hands on the backs of Henry’s thighs, and tilted his hips, pushing deeper; he drew back and Henry shivered and squeezed around him. All the hairs stood up on Martin’s skin and his nipples tightened almost painfully hard. He looked down into Henry’s face, and saw that Henry trusted him, loved him, was sorry.
Oh, Henry .
He gave in to the urge to thrust hard, to fuck Henry at a punishing pace. His heart was a war drum, and his blood sang in his ears, but he listened over the roar of his own body for the evidence of Henry’s pleasure, a low keening broken by throaty cries, different from the sounds he made when he was on top, and the rough timbre of his voice went straight to Martin’s cock. Henry’s body clutched and pulled at him, and the drag on his cock was
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