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“Come on, now. Pretend I’m your wife,” Neal suggested.
“That is so wrong,” Peter protested, balking.
Neal pulled him back into his arms. “You know what I mean. It’s not much different, is it?”
Peter gave him a look. “Your parts are a bit different, Neal,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but the mechanics are the same. Maybe if I…do this?” Neal pulled his thighs up, rocked back on his spine so that his ankles hovered somewhere around his own shoulders.
“Wow, you’re bendy.”
“Have to stay in shape to break into banks and museums,” he quipped. “Allegedly. Come on, now, you can…right…just like that. Oooohhh…mmmmm.” Neal squirmed as the head of Peter’s cock entered him, stretching, stretching, it was so good. “God, Peter, yeah. Ok, just, push in. Yeah…like that. Mmmmm.”
Peter put his hands on Neal's hips to steady him, watching as his lube-slick hole took every inch of him in. He pushed slowly in, marveling at the sensation. So tight, beyond anything he’d ever experienced, impossibly hot and tight. He pushed in another inch.
Neal whined a little and Peter glanced up at him. “I’m sorry!” He wasn’t entirely convinced he wouldn’t hurt Neal.
“Don’t be, Peter. More, OK? More.”
Peter did as specified, looked down, concentrating on sinking more of his cock into Neal. Finally, he got it all in and looked up at Neal for – what? Approval?
“What?” Neal said. “You could move a bit.”
“Oh. Oh, sorry.” Peter drew his penis out, and pushed it back in, Neal's hole stretching and moving to accommodate him. The sensation was intoxicating.
“Faster,” Neal suggested.
Peter looked up at him for guidance. Neal nodded, then threw his head back, throat exposed, enjoying himself. Peter leaned forward as he thrust in, kissed Neal on the throat. “Nice,” Neal commented, keeping his position.
Peter thrust again. “Harder!” Neal commanded, his head moving from side to side, breaths quickening. Neal's hand drifted down his own belly and took up his prick and began pumping it, making huh-huh-huh sounds in his chest. Peter thought he must be doing something right. He relaxed then, began to thrust in and out, in and out with purpose, finally losing himself in the sensation, the simple act of lovemaking. He pumped into Neal, heard the faint slap-slap of his balls and thighs hitting Neal's ass, closed his eyes.
“God, I’m gonna come right now,” Neal told him.
“Um, OK?” Peter said, opening his eyes to look at him. Neal twisted his fist around his own cock, his body tensing as he milked it, pumped it, wrang it dry.
“OH! My God.” Peter exclaimed as Neal's body tensed all around him, his hole clenching so tight around his dick, so suddenly, he wanted to scream. “What?” he screamed.
And then he came so hard he thought he might pass out. “Fucking hell!”
He came so hard, he couldn’t feel his legs, or his arms, or his face. “Oh! Oh, shit!”
He came so hard, he wanted to do this again and again.
He had to pull out then, the sensation on the verge of too much, and sank on trembling arms onto the bed next to his new lover. He lay, face down. Neal straightened himself out, and curled up next to Peter, pressing kisses into his ear, throwing a leg wantonly across him, possessive. Peter couldn’t move; his skin was jumping as his synapses seemed all to be firing at once. His arms, his legs, his belly, all tingled with electricity.
“Was that OK?” he managed after a few minutes. He couldn’t quite look at Neal, suddenly unsure, self conscious. He didn’t know if he wanted to really hear his answer.
”I think my brain shut off.”
“That a good thing?”
“Yeah, a good thing,” he laughed, and kissed him fondly.
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