free hand, pushing him inside while taking control of his mouth.
Nate didn’t protest, just humped up against him, clearly as turned on as he was. Carlos kicked at the door blindly, and managed to swing it shut. Nate huffed against his lips, half laugh, half need. “Dammit. You’re late.”
He raised his other hand. “I brought beer.”
Nate pulled away, reached over to lock the door, and then took the bottles. “Oh yeah, the good stuff. You’re forgiven. Now or later?”
Carlos lowered his voice to a growl. “Later. Really later. Put it down.”
Nate’s lips twitched, but he obediently reached over and set the beer on an end table. “And now?”
“Bedroom.”
“Got it.” Nate turned away, tugging his shirt off as he did so. He had a great back, lean and long and pale, with those little butt-dimples right above the waistband of his jeans. He tossed his shirt over his shoulder and Carlos caught it, getting a whiff of clean male sweat. As they reached the bedroom, he flipped it into the corner, toed off his shoes, and kicked the door shut. Nate turned around by the bed. “And what about now?”
Carlos took two long strides, dropped to his knees, and popped the button on those jeans. Nate clamped his hands on Carlos’s hair. That weight on his head, the sight of Nate’s body and the sound of his fast breaths, made Carlos’s fingers clumsy as he reached for the zipper tab. God, he needed this.
He slid the zipper slowly down, grinning at the way each inch revealed Nate’s flushed straining dick. Then he paused, teasing a bit, leaving the last inch closed, trapping Nate just enough to not spring free. He pressed a kiss over the veined length of the revealed shaft, and Nate made a pained sound through his teeth. Carlos licked down him, breathing in the clean taste and heady scent of his warm skin.
He always liked this, blowing a guy, making him jolt and pant and swear with the power of mouth and hands. He’d heard other transmen complain about how it was easier to bottom than top, how they usually did the simple thing anyway, rather than fight it, whatever their preference. But he’d always known he wanted this, a man in his mouth or his body. He was no doormat, but you could still top a guy even as you let him fuck your face. He lowered the zipper that last inch, and let Nate’s cock bounce up against his lips.
He caught the tip and sucked on it, tasting the slick salt of it. Nate’s fingers clenched in his hair. Carlos hummed, and slid the length of Nate’s cock into his mouth, over his tongue and against the vibrating back of his throat.
Nate gasped, and tugged at his hair. “Won’t last long.”
Carlos pulled off with slow deep suction, then nipped just under the curved head, making Nate whimper. Carlos laughed, hearing his own voice dark with satisfaction. Hell to the yeah. He could play Nate like a fucking instrument, emphasis on the fucking. He reached up and tugged the waistband of Nate’s jeans lower. Nate gave a helpful wiggle of his hips, the wet tip of his dick bumping against Carlos’s neck.
Carlos tugged the denim down Nate’s slim, pale thighs and over his arched feet. So much goodness in that lean body, and he was going to taste it all. “Get on the bed.” He stood and pushed Nate’s shoulders backward.
Nate didn’t argue, just let Carlos arrange him on his back, his dick pointing eagerly upward. Carlos crawled up on the bed to loom over him.
“Your clothes?” Nate said breathily.
“Later.” He loved this, himself fully dressed with Nate splayed out naked under him. He bent to suck on Nate’s chest, raising a red mark just over one flat nipple, watching the sensitive nub wrinkle tight. He sucked that tight bud, flicking his tongue against it, then moved to the other side. Nate’s hands landed on his head again, but Carlos resisted any tugging and pushing. He was in charge here.
“Lower,” Nate begged.
“Later.” He dipped his hips so the roughness of his
Nate didn’t protest, just humped up against him, clearly as turned on as he was. Carlos kicked at the door blindly, and managed to swing it shut. Nate huffed against his lips, half laugh, half need. “Dammit. You’re late.”
He raised his other hand. “I brought beer.”
Nate pulled away, reached over to lock the door, and then took the bottles. “Oh yeah, the good stuff. You’re forgiven. Now or later?”
Carlos lowered his voice to a growl. “Later. Really later. Put it down.”
Nate’s lips twitched, but he obediently reached over and set the beer on an end table. “And now?”
“Bedroom.”
“Got it.” Nate turned away, tugging his shirt off as he did so. He had a great back, lean and long and pale, with those little butt-dimples right above the waistband of his jeans. He tossed his shirt over his shoulder and Carlos caught it, getting a whiff of clean male sweat. As they reached the bedroom, he flipped it into the corner, toed off his shoes, and kicked the door shut. Nate turned around by the bed. “And what about now?”
Carlos took two long strides, dropped to his knees, and popped the button on those jeans. Nate clamped his hands on Carlos’s hair. That weight on his head, the sight of Nate’s body and the sound of his fast breaths, made Carlos’s fingers clumsy as he reached for the zipper tab. God, he needed this.
He slid the zipper slowly down, grinning at the way each inch revealed Nate’s flushed straining dick. Then he paused, teasing a bit, leaving the last inch closed, trapping Nate just enough to not spring free. He pressed a kiss over the veined length of the revealed shaft, and Nate made a pained sound through his teeth. Carlos licked down him, breathing in the clean taste and heady scent of his warm skin.
He always liked this, blowing a guy, making him jolt and pant and swear with the power of mouth and hands. He’d heard other transmen complain about how it was easier to bottom than top, how they usually did the simple thing anyway, rather than fight it, whatever their preference. But he’d always known he wanted this, a man in his mouth or his body. He was no doormat, but you could still top a guy even as you let him fuck your face. He lowered the zipper that last inch, and let Nate’s cock bounce up against his lips.
He caught the tip and sucked on it, tasting the slick salt of it. Nate’s fingers clenched in his hair. Carlos hummed, and slid the length of Nate’s cock into his mouth, over his tongue and against the vibrating back of his throat.
Nate gasped, and tugged at his hair. “Won’t last long.”
Carlos pulled off with slow deep suction, then nipped just under the curved head, making Nate whimper. Carlos laughed, hearing his own voice dark with satisfaction. Hell to the yeah. He could play Nate like a fucking instrument, emphasis on the fucking. He reached up and tugged the waistband of Nate’s jeans lower. Nate gave a helpful wiggle of his hips, the wet tip of his dick bumping against Carlos’s neck.
Carlos tugged the denim down Nate’s slim, pale thighs and over his arched feet. So much goodness in that lean body, and he was going to taste it all. “Get on the bed.” He stood and pushed Nate’s shoulders backward.
Nate didn’t argue, just let Carlos arrange him on his back, his dick pointing eagerly upward. Carlos crawled up on the bed to loom over him.
“Your clothes?” Nate said breathily.
“Later.” He loved this, himself fully dressed with Nate splayed out naked under him. He bent to suck on Nate’s chest, raising a red mark just over one flat nipple, watching the sensitive nub wrinkle tight. He sucked that tight bud, flicking his tongue against it, then moved to the other side. Nate’s hands landed on his head again, but Carlos resisted any tugging and pushing. He was in charge here.
“Lower,” Nate begged.
“Later.” He dipped his hips so the roughness of his
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