My own dick made its grand entrance and wasted no time in begging for his attention. Luckily he was happy to give it all the consideration it deserved and I lost my breath and maybe a good chunk of my mind while I watched us simultaneously work each other over. Darker skin against light. Hard hands against smooth surfaces. The stretch and pull of tender flesh as it yielded and asked for more and more. Both cocks harder than they had ever been as they throbbed in time to the stimulation. I could feel his heartbeat through the thick vein running underneath his erection and wondered if he could feel mine as his fingers danced and skipped with practiced skill over my rigid member.
There was no room for love or fear now, only space for want and need.
We shared another soul-melting kiss. One that had our stomachs touching and each of us scrambling to get out of our clothes. My tiny little kitchen was going to see a lot of firsts tonight, Mom’s lasagna and a tablecloth being the least exciting of them, apparently.
I went willingly when Lando silently urged me to turn around even though it meant I had to let go of his dick and I could tell that he was close to coming in my hand. I braced my hands on the table a shoulder width apart and let my head fall forward. Love was exhausted from the fight and hung heavy around my neck.
Lando’s hand traced up and down my spine a few times, leaving bumps of anticipation and excitement in its wake. He used his knee to spread my legs farther apart and I didn’t need to look over my shoulder when I heard a ripping sound to know that he had found a condom from either his wallet or mine and was suiting up. One of his hands connected with my ass cheek in a sharp pop that did have me scowling and turning to look at him over my shoulder. God he was beautiful and fear was nowhere in sight.
“What was that for?” I didn’t mind a little slap and tickle every now and then, but we were about to fuck over the kitchen table and a long-cold dinner, that was enough of an extreme for one interlude as far as I was concerned.
He pointed at his now latex-covered dick which he was pressing down with his thumb and then at my backside.
“You want to move this party into the bedroom or you want to rough it?” He lifted both his eyebrows at me and waited for my response.
Well shit. I was usually prepared for any situation, but sex over dinner was not one of them … hell, sex anywhere but in the confines of my very comfortable bedroom wasn’t really one of them. It wasn’t like I kept a bottle of lube stashed in every drawer around the house.
“Uh, rough it.” There was no way I was going to shift the momentum we had going and let fear rear its ugly head back up.
“You sure?” He was always the caretaker and that was love.
“I’m sure. Now get inside of me.” Going rough and raw wasn’t my favorite, but anything that got this man inside of me I could handle. I turned back around and waited for the slow burn, the stretch, the automatic tightening of muscles against the invasion … it never came. Instead, there was the warm and damp lap of a tongue, there was the gentle probing of something much smaller and far more flexible. He would never hurt me, not when it could be avoided with a little love and care even if the pain was only temporary and well worth it for what came after.
Suddenly one of his hands was on top of mine on the table, his strong chest was up against my back and his free hand was around my still aching cock moving up and down as he pressed into me.
“Easy has its place, Dom. Not everything all the time needs to be hard.” It was a fair point, one that he made over and over as he started to slide in and out of me in an elegant rhythm that juxtaposed the rough and erratic way he was working my dick in his hand.
It was a lot of sensation, a lot of different kinds of touching happening, but my favorite was probably where his lips rested against my ear so I could hear every pant, every gasp, every sigh that was ripped out of him as my body pulled at him and squeezed him. If what he was doing between my legs and behind me wasn’t enough to get me off, the sounds he was making in my ear would be. To me, that sounded a lot like love … not like fear at all.