Part 8
Gary sat in the movie theater and tried not to think about the boy sitting right next to him, which wasn’t easy. The last time he and Patrick had gone to a movie, the baseball player had kissed and groped him in the darkened theater. This time he seemed to be behaving himself, which kind of disappointed Gary. He tried to suppress that feeling, but wasn’t very successful at that, either. He looked at the screen, sighing.
Suddenly, he gasped and sat upright as a hand closed over his knee. He glanced sideways at Patrick, who was looking at him. His boyfriend smiled slightly as he moved his hand on Gary’s knee in a slow caress. He blew Gary a kiss, and squeezed him lightly. He shivered. Patrick leaned over the arm of his seat. “Gary,” he said, and his hot breath on his ear made Gary shudder faintly. “Do you like the movie?”
Movie? What movie? There was a movie? The hand on his knee slid higher up his thigh, and he squirmed in his seat. “Do you want some popcorn?” Patrick’s voice continued, a teasing note in his voice.
Gary couldn’t answer. Lord, he could barely breathe! Patrick’s fingers…they were…he moaned, the softest of sounds, as those fingers made contact with the bulge in the front of his pants. He panted desperately, his own fingers closing tightly on the arm rests of his seat. He felt a tongue trace the rim of his ear, and he made a helpless sound as he lost it. He came in his pants, right there in the darkened theater.
He felt great shame flow over him. Oh, God, how was he going to get home with a big stain on the front of his pants? His face flushed and he moaned, not in pleasure this time. But then a coat was placed over his lap, and Patrick said: “Sorry about that. I’m taller than you, so if you wear my coat that should hide it until I can get you home.”
Gary felt relief flood him, and he gave Patrick a tentative smile. “Thanks,” he breathed.
Patrick grinned. “Hey, I have to take care of my guy, right? Besides, it’s my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have groped you like that.”
Gary’s eyes fell. “No. I-I liked it,” he breathed.
A sharp intake of breath beside him. “I swear,” Patrick said in a rather painful voice, “You’re going to be the death of me, Gary.”
Quentin was putting his books away in his locker when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He closed the locker and smiled in greeting at Gary, who was standing there moving from foot-to-foot a little, looking a bit nervous. Curious, Quentin said: “Is everything okay, Gary?”
“Umm, yeah. Sort of. Look, can I talk to you for a minute, Quen? Please?” Gary asked, sounding a little desperate.
“Sure. Of course. I’ve got P.E. next hour, but I can get there late because everybody will be changing and the teacher doesn’t come into the locker room because she’s female. Come on, let’s talk,” Quentin led his friend to a classroom that he happened to know was empty, and they slipped inside together. He turned to look at Gary.
“So what’s this about?” he asked. “Why do you need to talk to me?”
“Well…” Gary began, biting at his lower lip. “It's about Patrick…”
“Are you guys breaking up?” Quentin asked worriedly.
Gary shook his head. “No! No. We’re still together. It’s just…ummm…” his cheeks turned dark red, which made Quentin’s plucked eyebrows lift a bit. Gary looked down at the floor. “I want to…but I don’t know what to do!” he blurted out in a rush.
“You want to what? Oh, wait a minute,” Quentin said as clarity arrived and he made the connection between Gary’s statement and his reddened cheeks and nervousness. “You want to do things with your boyfriend. Sex things. Am I right?”
Gary nodded, although it looked like his face might explode. “I don’t know how to do anything,” he whispered in embarrassment. “I mean, Patrick is the first person that I’ve ever kissed. And I haven’t…you know…seen any dirty movies or anything…”
“I see,” Quentin replied. “And I take it Patrick really doesn’t know that much, either?”
Gary shook his head again. “He knows how to kiss and stuff,” he told Quentin. “And he touches me. But I don’t think that he knows too much guy-on-guy stuff either. And I was thinking…that maybe I could be the one to learn about it, and maybe show him…if you see what I mean,” he went on hurriedly.
“Oh, I do,” an enlightened Quentin assured him. “And you want someone who knows what he’s doing to give you pointers. Right?”
Gary looked up at him earnestly. “Yes! Could you, Quen? I mean, if it’s not too embarrassing or weird or anything,” he added worriedly.
Quentin patted his arm. “It isn’t,” he told his friend cheerfully. “I’d love to help you out. I know how confusing it can be when you’re young and you don’t know anything. Fortunately for me, the first guy I was with was older and fairly experienced. He showed me everything. But since neither you nor Patrick really know what you’re doing, you’re tough out of luck. So why don’t you come to my house today after five and we can talk? Just be warned,” he went on as Gary brightened up at his words, “That it might get kind of embarrassing at times. I’m going to be honest and blunt, and I might even give some demonstrations. On bananas and things,” he said as Gary looked alarmed.
“Oh. Okay, then,” Gary said, looking relieved. “I don’t mind being embarrassed, not if it means that I can learn some stuff. Thanks, Quen.”
“You’re welcome. And Patrick should thank his lucky stars that he has a great boyfriend like you,” Quentin told him, patted his arm again. “I just don’t think that I’ll tell Chet anything about this,” he added, tapping at his lower lip thoughtfully with his finger.
“Why?”
“Because he gets easily jealous, especially of you,” Quentin told him, his eyes twinkling. “Which I think is cute, but not something that I want to encourage. And it isn’t as though we’re going to be doing anything together, just talking about sex stuff. But he still might not like that very much, so in this case ignorance is bliss. You can decide whether you want to tell Patrick about this,” he told Gary.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Gary said doubtfully. “Patrick’s not jealous of you, but it might upset him that I came to you for sex advice. I don’t want to do that.”
“That’s because you’re a total sweetie,” Quentin replied, smiling at him. “Anyway, I have to go to gym class now. I’ll see you later on. Bye, Gary,” he lifted a hand and slipped out of the empty classroom, leaving Gary standing there feeling bemused, relieved, and still quite nervous about the ‘talk’ he and Quentin were going to have later on. But he was determined to go through with this, because Quentin knew tons more about being with a guy than he did. Of course, just about anybody with even a little experience would know a ton more than he did, but still…Quentin was the one he trusted to help him out with his dilemma. And if he could be courageous enough to come out in high school, he could be courageous enough to learn all about the things he’d like to do with Patrick but couldn’t for sheer lack of experience…
Quentin was in a good mood. He hummed under his breath as he walked along, heading for the football field. He wanted to spend some time with Chet after school before heading home to help Gary, so he was going to wait until his boyfriend was done with football practice. He had a wicked gleam in his eyes, because ‘spending time’ with Chet anymore inevitably included certain naughty sexual things that he thoroughly enjoyed doing. He still couldn’t quite believe that Chet had already progressed to giving him hand jobs, but he was very glad of that fact and wasn’t going to look a gift football player in the mouth. It looked like he might actually get laid sometime soon, instead of having to wait to have sex with Chet as a graduation present…
He walked along the sidewalk, approaching the locker rooms. Suddenly the door to them opened, disgorging almost a dozen large young men in uniforms. They were all eyeing Quentin in varying degrees of disgust and loathing as he came to a wary halt. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle them if he had to – but he really didn’t want to damage Chet’s team mates if he could avoid it. It wouldn’t do the football team any good if he ended up putting some of them on the injured roster.
“What the hell are YOU doing here, queer boy?” sneered one of the players, his lip curling as he took in Quentin’s normal gaudy attire – today it was a fur-lined denim jacket that glittered with sequins, tight white jeans with pink hearts sewn on the pockets, and a gauzy, spangled scarf that was tied jauntily around his neck.
“Well, the last time I checked I’m a student at this school so I’m allowed to go anywhere on the grounds,” Quentin replied evenly.
A disgusted snort. “You probably came down here to spy on the guys in the locker room, right? That’s what a pervert would do,” the same boy said.
Quentin cocked his head to the side. “And how do you know that? Is it because that’s what YOU have fantasies about doing?” he asked sweetly, knowing he should hold his tongue but having a hard time doing so because he was starting to get a little bit angry.
An angry murmur swept through the little crowd as the boy in question flushed a dark, unattractive red. “No, because I’m not a pervert, YOU are!” he spat. “I don’t dream about guys’ asses or doing sick things with them.”
Quentin blew him a kiss. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, sugar,” he said.
Another ugly muttering. The speaker was obviously livid, and the glare he turned on Quentin should have ignited him on the spot…if he’d had the gift of pyrokinesis, that is. “Fucking fag!” he snarled. “Somebody needs to give you the beating you deserve.”
“You and what army, honey?” Quentin asked, setting a hand on his hip. He was cursing himself mentally for not being able to keep his mouth shut, but guys like this always made him lose his temper. He loathed bigots and the ignorant, the kind of people who always ended up hurting others with their prejudices and hate.
“Well, the football player looked around at his comrades, “I’d bet we can take you, even if we can’t one-on-one.”
“Ooo, that’s fair,” Quentin sneered. “You need an entire pack to take on a little fag like me? That’s pretty pathetic.”
“You asked for it,” the boy said, stepping forward. “And now you’re gonna get it!” His fellow players also moved forward, obviously thinking that there was safety in numbers. Quentin sighed mentally, readying himself to fight back. He’d have to do lots of damage, and quickly, so that they’d get the message pounded home. He didn’t want to have to go through this again and again until the local bullies all learned their lessons, because despite his skill at martial arts Quentin didn’t like to fight and was pretty much a pacifist when he could get away with it. Or maybe it was because of his skill, as all forms of martial arts were primarily taught as meditation techniques, a way to stay limber and fit, and at the last as defensive skills. They had never been intended to be used as a weapon, and anyone who honored them kept that in mind at all times.
But even as he slid into a fighting stance, his slender hands upraised, a deep voice growled from behind them all: “What the fuck is going on?!”
Everyone turned to see Chet Rollins standing in the doorway, glaring at all of them. His teammates looked uneasily at one another, and the boy who’d first started in on Quentin said sharply: “We’re just gonna teach this fag a lesson, Chet!”
Chet’s eyes slid to Quentin’s face. Chagrined, he fell out of his stance and shrugged a bit in silent apology. Chet took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that he was about to teach you a lesson,” he said dryly. “About not messing with people who know martial arts.”
“But there are ten of us and one of him!” another player protested, pointing a finger at Quentin.
Chet gave him a sour look. “And when was the last time that you watched a kung fu film, Brent? Don’t they usually feature one guy beating down a whole crowd of other guys? And usually the guys they take on know martial arts, too. Just imagine what would happen to you idiots if you attacked him. It wouldn’t be pretty, I can tell you that.”
Many of them looked uneasy at his words, but the boy who’d been the instigator said angrily: “You sure seem to care a lot about this fag, Chet. I think that you’re just making up shit to defend him from us. What’s the matter…You turned queer now, too?”
Silence. Quentin looked at Chet, waiting to see what he’d say. His boyfriend just stood there for a moment, and then he straightened his shoulders and spoke. “Actually, Tony, that’s exactly what’s happened,” he said, making Quentin’s eyebrows shoot up and many jaws drop simultaneously. “He,” Chet pointed at Quentin with one thick fingers, “Happens to be my boyfriend. That’s why I’m trying to stop this thing – because I don’t want him to be kicked out of school for fighting. I don’t care if he beats all of you stupid sons-of-bitches into a pulp, because it would serve you right.”
Shock was clearly rippling through the group. Quentin was startled as well, but he also felt warmth ripple through him at Chet’s admission. He was so very proud of his man-mountain! He’d definitely have to reward Chet as he so richly deserved to be rewarded, and as soon as was humanly possible. For now, though, he simply stood quietly as the boy called Tony said weakly: “You’re shitting me, right? This is a joke.”
Chet shook his head. “It's no joke. I’m here and I’m queer, Tony, get used to it. Because if you don’t, I’ll have to make sure that you do,” he said ominously, his tone of voice promising great pain to anyone who got in his face about his being gay.
“Man, this can’t be right!” somebody else muttered. “We can’t have a FAG on the team!”
Chet turned his gaze on the speaker. “Well, if you can’t handle it, Adam, find another quarterback,” he replied flatly.
Silence. Chet was the best quarterback that they had, and the team had no hope of winning this season if he left. They all knew it. Chet looked them all over. “I’m not going to put up with being hassled about this,” he told his teammates coldly. “I don’t need football that bad. You need me more than I need you. So if you decide you can handle it, and you can treat me decently, I’ll stay on the team. But if you can’t, then I’ll quit the team. End of story. Figure it out and let me know,” he added. “But right now, fuck off,” he went on, stepping past them and nodding at Quentin. “Come on, Quen,” he said. “Let’s go.”
This was the first time that Chet had called him by his nickname. It made Quentin melt inside, and his smile was bright as he fell into step beside the bigger man. “You got it, big man,” he replied. They walked away and left the football players standing behind them, all clearly still in shock.
“Are you really okay with that?” Quentin asked as they moved toward the parking lot together.
Chet glanced down at him. “Yes,” he said briefly.
He hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s not easy being an ‘out’ gay teen in high school…”
“If you can do it, I can do it,” Chet told him.
Quentin found himself smiling again. “What?” Chet asked him, eyeing him warily.
He shook his electric-blue head. “I just think that you’re pretty amazing, that’s all,” he told his boyfriend. “And I’m very proud of you.”
Chet looked doubtful. “Why? I just did what I had to,” he said.
Quentin’s smile widened and became dazzling. “That’s the true definition of courage, big man,” he told his boyfriend. “Doing something when you really, REALLY don’t want to but you know it’s right. And I…” he laid his hand on Chet’s arm, giving him a low-lidded, sultry look from under his lashes, “Know just the reward for that kind of courage.”
Mmm, Quentin loved kissing Chet! That thick tongue had boldly invaded his mouth, and Chet’s lips were moving over his with such force that his own almost felt bruised. He clung to broad shoulders as his boyfriend devoured him, losing himself in the power and passion that was Chet Rollins. Big hands ran down his back and took a firm hold of his ass, making Quentin moan into the kiss. He squirmed as they kneaded and squeezed the cheeks. Oh, God, all he wanted was for this to go on forever! Screw school and real life – as long as he could kiss Chet he’d be satisfied. Even if he died of asphyxiation from lack of air, he’d be happy.
But Chet withdrew his lips at last, making Quentin whimper pitifully. His eyes were pleading as he looked up into Chet’s, and his mouth was open and kiss-swollen. The football player felt like doing some groaning of his own as he looked down at his boyfriend’s flushed face and languid eyes. “Quen,” he said throatily.
He could barely speak. His voice was a croak as he said: “Yes?”
Chet’s hands closed almost painfully in the firm flesh of Quentin’s backside. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled, his nostrils flaring slightly as he fell into a more animalistic state of mind.
Quentin gasped, then moaned on a long, falling note. “Shit, big man, I can’t think of anything that I want more,” he managed to husk. “Please, please fuck me.”
Chet’s chest rose and fell on a long, harsh breath. “Let’s do it,” he rumbled, then he pushed Quentin backward onto his bed and fell atop him. His big body completely covered his boyfriend’s, and Quentin twined his legs around Chet’s back as he enjoyed the weight of the big man’s body pressing atop him.
“I’m really glad,” Quentin told him, looking up into his eyes, “That you want to do this with me, Chet. I’ve pretty much been losing my mind lately. I want you so bad,” he said, even as he pushed upward with his hips to rub his still-clothed erection against the bulge in Chet’s jeans.
Chet’s only audible answer was a slight growl, then he attacked Quentin’s mouth with his own again. Their cocks rubbed and pushed and ground against each other, and Quentin dimly thought that it was a miracle that he didn’t come in his pants. The stimulation was so intense that he could barely hold himself back. He twined himself around Chet like a monkey, holding on for dear life as their tongues dueled in a fight that they were both destined to win – or perhaps lose. It didn’t matter, not in the least.
Chet finally pulled back, which was a good thing at that moment since Quentin wasn’t sure how much longer he could have held out. The football player reared back on his haunches, looking down at Quentin’s body splayed on his bed. His shirt was disarranged and rucked up so that his lean, rolling muscles were revealed, along with a cute innie belly button. Chet reached out and pushed the fabric up even more, revealing two pert pink nipples that begged to be sucked and kissed. Quentin’s chest was heaving and his belly was shuddering as Chet’s hot eyes raked over him.
Chet said nothing. He merely reached down and began to undo Quentin’s belt and the front of his jeans. Quentin moaned breathily, especially when big hands lifted him and began to yank the tight jeans down off of his narrow hips. He was ruthlessly stripped of his jeans and his bikini underwear both, and he loved every moment of it. Chet pulled the jeans off of his legs and tossed them away, complete with the underwear. His eyes went to the rock hard cock juddering between Quentin’s thighs, studying it. His big hand reached out, and Quentin mewled as those thick fingers closed over him and lightly stroked up and down. “Oh, Goddd…” he moaned, pushing upward with his hips. “Ooo, Chet…”
To his stunned shock, his boyfriend leaned forward and crouched over his legs. That thick tongue that had plundered his mouth was extended, and a wide-eyed Quentin watched in disbelief as Chet licked at the tip of his cock! He couldn’t take it anymore. He nearly screamed as he came, shooting his semen up in jets. Some of it fell onto Chet’s face in streaks, while others dappled his chest and stomach. He twitched and whimpered, closing his eyes. Wow, that had been intense.
He heard a soft rustling, and cracked an eye lid to see Chet methodically removing his clothes. His chest was so broad and massive, packed with muscle - he licked weakly at his lips in anticipation at the thought of being able to touch and taste that perfectly sculpted expanse. His fingers itched to run through the swirls of sandy-brown hair that edged Chet’s nipples and ran down his abdomen toward his groin. He moaned softly as jeans were discarded next, revealing that sturdy cock that proved that Chet didn’t use steroids. He trimmed his pubic hair, most likely because he had to wear a protective cup under his uniform. Sturdy, trunk-like thighs were also covered with a light dusting of hair. Chet Rollins was all man – and all his!
Quentin found energy he hadn’t known that he’d had. He sat up, peeling off his t-shirt and tossing it away. He wanted to be totally naked with Chet. He reached out to touch his boyfriend’s chest, his fingers skimming over it. Chet took in a deep breath as Quentin’s fingers reached his red-brown, flat male nipples. A seductive, cat-like smile, then the blue head dipped and a pink tongue swirled over his right nipple. Chet moaned in startled pleasure, then made an animal sound as teeth nibbled at the ridged peak. He hadn’t known that men’s nipples were this sensitive! His head went back a little, and his big hands clutched at Quentin’s arms.
“Mmm,” Quentin moaned as he began to kiss a trail over Chet’s chest toward his other nipple. “You taste so nice, big man. I could just eat you up.”
He tried to pull himself together, which wasn’t easy when Quentin’s mouth was attending to his other nipple with such skill. Chet released Quentin’s arms and ran his hands down his boyfriend’s bare back instead. The skin felt like silk and floss under his hands. The pert ass fell easily into his grip, the cheeks just waiting to be molded and cupped. Quentin wiggled and moaned around his nipple, which made Chet grit his teeth in turn.
Quentin began to drift downward, lapping at the rolling muscles in Chet’s abdomen like a sex kitten. He set a hand on his boyfriend’s chest and urged him backward, having Chet lie on the bed. He crouched over the football player, running his hands over that entire expanse of skin and muscle as he admired it with his eyes. He smiled down at Chet in a sultry manner, before he dipped his head and licked at the bottom of Chet’s stomach. He rubbed his cheek against the skin as his hand slid over to grip his boyfriend’s cock. It twitched in his hand. His breath fell warm on soft but rough pubic hair as he began to inch his face toward that big thing that he still held in his hand. Chet bit back a groan as Quentin tortured him, his heels digging into the bed a little.
Quentin stuck out his tongue and delicately licked at the leaking tip of the big cock. He ran it down the length of the shaft until he met his own hand, then moved on to the pair of sturdy balls underneath. He tongued at them, mouthing at the sac until Chet groaned for him. Quentin ran his tongue down to the soft skin of the perineum, darting it downward as Chet spread his legs instinctively. He heard a harsh, startled sound as he laved his tongue over the puckered surface of his boyfriend’s asshole. Quentin smirked to himself as he began to lick at the sensitive tissue, feeling Chet shuddering. He heard sounds of protest, but they died away as he continued his ministrations. Instead, the trunk-like legs lifted and bent as Chet gave him better access. Pride and smugness washed through him. He relished the long drawn out: “Fucccckkkk!!!” as he stuck his tongue into the tightening, spasming hole.
But finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. Eating Chet out had worked him up again, and his own cock was hard and ready again between his thighs. Quentin deserted his boyfriend, moving over to straddle Chet’s stomach with his ass toward his boyfriend’s face. “You’re going to have to…loosen me up, big man,” he panted. “With your fingers. Here,” he briefly lid off the bed, returning with a little tube in his hand. He gave this to Chet, who looked at it. It was lube. He frowned up at Quentin.
“Why do you carry this around with you?” he asked suspiciously.
Quentin smiled at him. “I only started doing it recently, because I hoped that you’d give us a chance to use it,” he purred. “I figured that you didn’t have any here,” he added, glancing around at Chet’s bedroom. “I was just trying to be prepared. Is there anything wrong with that?”
Chet decided that there wasn’t. “Get back up here,” he told Quentin on a growl.
“Aye aye, Captain,” Quentin replied merrily, before he crawled back up onto Chet’s body and arranged himself again.
Chet looked at the puckered pink ring nestled between the cheeks of Quentin’s ass. He opened the tube and squirted a bit onto his fingers, then tentatively reached out to press his fingertip to Quentin’s asshole. He heard a small sound of pleasure, and Quentin wriggled his hips a bit. Clearly he was inviting Chet to go further. He used his free hand to spread the cheeks a bit more, then he rubbed over the twitching pink ring with his fingertip .Quentin mewled and moved for him. Chet pressed on the ring ,and it opened like a flower to admit his fingertip. A little cry accompanied his breeching the ring, and Quentin’s back bowed a little. “Ohh, go deeper,” he panted
Chet complied. His thick finger slid inward, finding a hot, tight space that gripped at his finger seductively. The kittenish sounds that Quentin was emitting from his throat only made Chet more aggressive, and he pushed inward and moved his finger in a circle. A loud cry was his reward, and Quentin’s narrow hips bucked for him. And when Chet crooked his finger, Quentin spasmed and shook.
Chet took his time, invading and loosening Quentin’s hole with his thick fingers. He had worked three inside by now, and Quentin was a quivering mass who lay limply on his legs and made tortured little sounds. “Ahh, please,” he whimpered, writhing. “Please fuck me, big man!”
He’d be happy to. Chet’s teeth were gritted together as he fought off his impending orgasm. He dumped Quentin onto the bed, making him protest, and got up to go into his bathroom. He returned carrying a silver-foil packet in his hand, the sight of which made Quentin’s sounds turn happy and full of anticipation. He wriggled his ass in the air as Chet tore open the packet and pulled out a condom. His fingers fumbled a little in his haste as he seated it on his cock, then climbed back on the bed.
Chet grabbed the lube and smeared it onto himself, then tossed the tube away and grabbed Quentin’s hips instead. He spread the cheeks of his boyfriend’s ass to reveal that secretive pink hole once again, and Quentin gasped and jinked his hips a little. Chet took himself in hand and directed his dick to the right place, hesitating a bit as he did so. He’d never had anal sex with a girl, so he had no idea if it was the same as fucking a vagina.
Fortunately for him, Quentin realized his dilemma and wriggled his ass in Chet’s face. “Just stick it in, big man,” he told his boyfriend. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Do it.”
This command made Chet react. He pushed, and his cock slid inside like a knife through butter. Quentin groaned in painful pleasure as he was filled up, and he gasped. “Stop. Just for a moment.”
Chet did as he said, his big hands gripping Quentin’s hips as he struggled not to just come in that hot, tight gripping glove that was squeezing his dick so nicely. God, this was good! He liked the sight of himself buried in that pretty, round white ass. Quentin’s body shivered, then he lifted himself up on his arms a bit and looked over his shoulder at Chet. “All right, big man. Do me,” he directed. “Hard,” he went on, even as his internal muscles clamped down on Chet’s cock deliberately.
With a low, animal sound, Chet did just as he said. He began to fuck Quentin with long, hard strokes, his hands holding his boyfriend in place for each thrust. Quentin cried out, his back bowing and his hands digging into the blanket under him as he was plowed. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck!” he chanted, seeing stars.
Chet was a relentless, pounding machine. He grunted as he took Quentin like an animal, riding that white ass for all it was worth. Quentin had lost all breath and sight by now, and his body jerked helplessly as he was taken from behind. His cock swayed under him, bright red and leaking heavily. Chet was pounding his prostate on nearly every inward thrust, and pre-ejaculate was literally being pushed out of his body. He didn’t have the strength to touch it, but he didn’t really think that mattered anyway. He was going to come, one way or the other. It was as inevitable as the tides or the seasons. Then a big hand left his hip and slid upward to find one of his nipples, and fingertips twisted it lightly. That was all she wrote. Quentin gave forth a breathless cry as he exploded all over the blanket under him, his semen jetting out of him in long bursts. He shuddered, half-collapsing as Chet’s big hand held him up.
He heard a low groan, and felt the big body over him jerk several times. Quentin smiled wearily, his head hanging. It had been just as good as he’d imagined it would be. No, it had been even better. Having sex with the one you loved was way more fulfilling than just fucking some random guy. And it didn’t hurt that said loved one was hot, sexy, huge, and a true animal in bed. There was no one on this planet, Quentin Yardsley knew, who was luckier than he was right at this moment.
Go to Part 9
Gary sat in the movie theater and tried not to think about the boy sitting right next to him, which wasn’t easy. The last time he and Patrick had gone to a movie, the baseball player had kissed and groped him in the darkened theater. This time he seemed to be behaving himself, which kind of disappointed Gary. He tried to suppress that feeling, but wasn’t very successful at that, either. He looked at the screen, sighing.
Suddenly, he gasped and sat upright as a hand closed over his knee. He glanced sideways at Patrick, who was looking at him. His boyfriend smiled slightly as he moved his hand on Gary’s knee in a slow caress. He blew Gary a kiss, and squeezed him lightly. He shivered. Patrick leaned over the arm of his seat. “Gary,” he said, and his hot breath on his ear made Gary shudder faintly. “Do you like the movie?”
Movie? What movie? There was a movie? The hand on his knee slid higher up his thigh, and he squirmed in his seat. “Do you want some popcorn?” Patrick’s voice continued, a teasing note in his voice.
Gary couldn’t answer. Lord, he could barely breathe! Patrick’s fingers…they were…he moaned, the softest of sounds, as those fingers made contact with the bulge in the front of his pants. He panted desperately, his own fingers closing tightly on the arm rests of his seat. He felt a tongue trace the rim of his ear, and he made a helpless sound as he lost it. He came in his pants, right there in the darkened theater.
He felt great shame flow over him. Oh, God, how was he going to get home with a big stain on the front of his pants? His face flushed and he moaned, not in pleasure this time. But then a coat was placed over his lap, and Patrick said: “Sorry about that. I’m taller than you, so if you wear my coat that should hide it until I can get you home.”
Gary felt relief flood him, and he gave Patrick a tentative smile. “Thanks,” he breathed.
Patrick grinned. “Hey, I have to take care of my guy, right? Besides, it’s my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have groped you like that.”
Gary’s eyes fell. “No. I-I liked it,” he breathed.
A sharp intake of breath beside him. “I swear,” Patrick said in a rather painful voice, “You’re going to be the death of me, Gary.”
Quentin was putting his books away in his locker when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He closed the locker and smiled in greeting at Gary, who was standing there moving from foot-to-foot a little, looking a bit nervous. Curious, Quentin said: “Is everything okay, Gary?”
“Umm, yeah. Sort of. Look, can I talk to you for a minute, Quen? Please?” Gary asked, sounding a little desperate.
“Sure. Of course. I’ve got P.E. next hour, but I can get there late because everybody will be changing and the teacher doesn’t come into the locker room because she’s female. Come on, let’s talk,” Quentin led his friend to a classroom that he happened to know was empty, and they slipped inside together. He turned to look at Gary.
“So what’s this about?” he asked. “Why do you need to talk to me?”
“Well…” Gary began, biting at his lower lip. “It's about Patrick…”
“Are you guys breaking up?” Quentin asked worriedly.
Gary shook his head. “No! No. We’re still together. It’s just…ummm…” his cheeks turned dark red, which made Quentin’s plucked eyebrows lift a bit. Gary looked down at the floor. “I want to…but I don’t know what to do!” he blurted out in a rush.
“You want to what? Oh, wait a minute,” Quentin said as clarity arrived and he made the connection between Gary’s statement and his reddened cheeks and nervousness. “You want to do things with your boyfriend. Sex things. Am I right?”
Gary nodded, although it looked like his face might explode. “I don’t know how to do anything,” he whispered in embarrassment. “I mean, Patrick is the first person that I’ve ever kissed. And I haven’t…you know…seen any dirty movies or anything…”
“I see,” Quentin replied. “And I take it Patrick really doesn’t know that much, either?”
Gary shook his head again. “He knows how to kiss and stuff,” he told Quentin. “And he touches me. But I don’t think that he knows too much guy-on-guy stuff either. And I was thinking…that maybe I could be the one to learn about it, and maybe show him…if you see what I mean,” he went on hurriedly.
“Oh, I do,” an enlightened Quentin assured him. “And you want someone who knows what he’s doing to give you pointers. Right?”
Gary looked up at him earnestly. “Yes! Could you, Quen? I mean, if it’s not too embarrassing or weird or anything,” he added worriedly.
Quentin patted his arm. “It isn’t,” he told his friend cheerfully. “I’d love to help you out. I know how confusing it can be when you’re young and you don’t know anything. Fortunately for me, the first guy I was with was older and fairly experienced. He showed me everything. But since neither you nor Patrick really know what you’re doing, you’re tough out of luck. So why don’t you come to my house today after five and we can talk? Just be warned,” he went on as Gary brightened up at his words, “That it might get kind of embarrassing at times. I’m going to be honest and blunt, and I might even give some demonstrations. On bananas and things,” he said as Gary looked alarmed.
“Oh. Okay, then,” Gary said, looking relieved. “I don’t mind being embarrassed, not if it means that I can learn some stuff. Thanks, Quen.”
“You’re welcome. And Patrick should thank his lucky stars that he has a great boyfriend like you,” Quentin told him, patted his arm again. “I just don’t think that I’ll tell Chet anything about this,” he added, tapping at his lower lip thoughtfully with his finger.
“Why?”
“Because he gets easily jealous, especially of you,” Quentin told him, his eyes twinkling. “Which I think is cute, but not something that I want to encourage. And it isn’t as though we’re going to be doing anything together, just talking about sex stuff. But he still might not like that very much, so in this case ignorance is bliss. You can decide whether you want to tell Patrick about this,” he told Gary.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Gary said doubtfully. “Patrick’s not jealous of you, but it might upset him that I came to you for sex advice. I don’t want to do that.”
“That’s because you’re a total sweetie,” Quentin replied, smiling at him. “Anyway, I have to go to gym class now. I’ll see you later on. Bye, Gary,” he lifted a hand and slipped out of the empty classroom, leaving Gary standing there feeling bemused, relieved, and still quite nervous about the ‘talk’ he and Quentin were going to have later on. But he was determined to go through with this, because Quentin knew tons more about being with a guy than he did. Of course, just about anybody with even a little experience would know a ton more than he did, but still…Quentin was the one he trusted to help him out with his dilemma. And if he could be courageous enough to come out in high school, he could be courageous enough to learn all about the things he’d like to do with Patrick but couldn’t for sheer lack of experience…
Quentin was in a good mood. He hummed under his breath as he walked along, heading for the football field. He wanted to spend some time with Chet after school before heading home to help Gary, so he was going to wait until his boyfriend was done with football practice. He had a wicked gleam in his eyes, because ‘spending time’ with Chet anymore inevitably included certain naughty sexual things that he thoroughly enjoyed doing. He still couldn’t quite believe that Chet had already progressed to giving him hand jobs, but he was very glad of that fact and wasn’t going to look a gift football player in the mouth. It looked like he might actually get laid sometime soon, instead of having to wait to have sex with Chet as a graduation present…
He walked along the sidewalk, approaching the locker rooms. Suddenly the door to them opened, disgorging almost a dozen large young men in uniforms. They were all eyeing Quentin in varying degrees of disgust and loathing as he came to a wary halt. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle them if he had to – but he really didn’t want to damage Chet’s team mates if he could avoid it. It wouldn’t do the football team any good if he ended up putting some of them on the injured roster.
“What the hell are YOU doing here, queer boy?” sneered one of the players, his lip curling as he took in Quentin’s normal gaudy attire – today it was a fur-lined denim jacket that glittered with sequins, tight white jeans with pink hearts sewn on the pockets, and a gauzy, spangled scarf that was tied jauntily around his neck.
“Well, the last time I checked I’m a student at this school so I’m allowed to go anywhere on the grounds,” Quentin replied evenly.
A disgusted snort. “You probably came down here to spy on the guys in the locker room, right? That’s what a pervert would do,” the same boy said.
Quentin cocked his head to the side. “And how do you know that? Is it because that’s what YOU have fantasies about doing?” he asked sweetly, knowing he should hold his tongue but having a hard time doing so because he was starting to get a little bit angry.
An angry murmur swept through the little crowd as the boy in question flushed a dark, unattractive red. “No, because I’m not a pervert, YOU are!” he spat. “I don’t dream about guys’ asses or doing sick things with them.”
Quentin blew him a kiss. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, sugar,” he said.
Another ugly muttering. The speaker was obviously livid, and the glare he turned on Quentin should have ignited him on the spot…if he’d had the gift of pyrokinesis, that is. “Fucking fag!” he snarled. “Somebody needs to give you the beating you deserve.”
“You and what army, honey?” Quentin asked, setting a hand on his hip. He was cursing himself mentally for not being able to keep his mouth shut, but guys like this always made him lose his temper. He loathed bigots and the ignorant, the kind of people who always ended up hurting others with their prejudices and hate.
“Well, the football player looked around at his comrades, “I’d bet we can take you, even if we can’t one-on-one.”
“Ooo, that’s fair,” Quentin sneered. “You need an entire pack to take on a little fag like me? That’s pretty pathetic.”
“You asked for it,” the boy said, stepping forward. “And now you’re gonna get it!” His fellow players also moved forward, obviously thinking that there was safety in numbers. Quentin sighed mentally, readying himself to fight back. He’d have to do lots of damage, and quickly, so that they’d get the message pounded home. He didn’t want to have to go through this again and again until the local bullies all learned their lessons, because despite his skill at martial arts Quentin didn’t like to fight and was pretty much a pacifist when he could get away with it. Or maybe it was because of his skill, as all forms of martial arts were primarily taught as meditation techniques, a way to stay limber and fit, and at the last as defensive skills. They had never been intended to be used as a weapon, and anyone who honored them kept that in mind at all times.
But even as he slid into a fighting stance, his slender hands upraised, a deep voice growled from behind them all: “What the fuck is going on?!”
Everyone turned to see Chet Rollins standing in the doorway, glaring at all of them. His teammates looked uneasily at one another, and the boy who’d first started in on Quentin said sharply: “We’re just gonna teach this fag a lesson, Chet!”
Chet’s eyes slid to Quentin’s face. Chagrined, he fell out of his stance and shrugged a bit in silent apology. Chet took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that he was about to teach you a lesson,” he said dryly. “About not messing with people who know martial arts.”
“But there are ten of us and one of him!” another player protested, pointing a finger at Quentin.
Chet gave him a sour look. “And when was the last time that you watched a kung fu film, Brent? Don’t they usually feature one guy beating down a whole crowd of other guys? And usually the guys they take on know martial arts, too. Just imagine what would happen to you idiots if you attacked him. It wouldn’t be pretty, I can tell you that.”
Many of them looked uneasy at his words, but the boy who’d been the instigator said angrily: “You sure seem to care a lot about this fag, Chet. I think that you’re just making up shit to defend him from us. What’s the matter…You turned queer now, too?”
Silence. Quentin looked at Chet, waiting to see what he’d say. His boyfriend just stood there for a moment, and then he straightened his shoulders and spoke. “Actually, Tony, that’s exactly what’s happened,” he said, making Quentin’s eyebrows shoot up and many jaws drop simultaneously. “He,” Chet pointed at Quentin with one thick fingers, “Happens to be my boyfriend. That’s why I’m trying to stop this thing – because I don’t want him to be kicked out of school for fighting. I don’t care if he beats all of you stupid sons-of-bitches into a pulp, because it would serve you right.”
Shock was clearly rippling through the group. Quentin was startled as well, but he also felt warmth ripple through him at Chet’s admission. He was so very proud of his man-mountain! He’d definitely have to reward Chet as he so richly deserved to be rewarded, and as soon as was humanly possible. For now, though, he simply stood quietly as the boy called Tony said weakly: “You’re shitting me, right? This is a joke.”
Chet shook his head. “It's no joke. I’m here and I’m queer, Tony, get used to it. Because if you don’t, I’ll have to make sure that you do,” he said ominously, his tone of voice promising great pain to anyone who got in his face about his being gay.
“Man, this can’t be right!” somebody else muttered. “We can’t have a FAG on the team!”
Chet turned his gaze on the speaker. “Well, if you can’t handle it, Adam, find another quarterback,” he replied flatly.
Silence. Chet was the best quarterback that they had, and the team had no hope of winning this season if he left. They all knew it. Chet looked them all over. “I’m not going to put up with being hassled about this,” he told his teammates coldly. “I don’t need football that bad. You need me more than I need you. So if you decide you can handle it, and you can treat me decently, I’ll stay on the team. But if you can’t, then I’ll quit the team. End of story. Figure it out and let me know,” he added. “But right now, fuck off,” he went on, stepping past them and nodding at Quentin. “Come on, Quen,” he said. “Let’s go.”
This was the first time that Chet had called him by his nickname. It made Quentin melt inside, and his smile was bright as he fell into step beside the bigger man. “You got it, big man,” he replied. They walked away and left the football players standing behind them, all clearly still in shock.
“Are you really okay with that?” Quentin asked as they moved toward the parking lot together.
Chet glanced down at him. “Yes,” he said briefly.
He hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s not easy being an ‘out’ gay teen in high school…”
“If you can do it, I can do it,” Chet told him.
Quentin found himself smiling again. “What?” Chet asked him, eyeing him warily.
He shook his electric-blue head. “I just think that you’re pretty amazing, that’s all,” he told his boyfriend. “And I’m very proud of you.”
Chet looked doubtful. “Why? I just did what I had to,” he said.
Quentin’s smile widened and became dazzling. “That’s the true definition of courage, big man,” he told his boyfriend. “Doing something when you really, REALLY don’t want to but you know it’s right. And I…” he laid his hand on Chet’s arm, giving him a low-lidded, sultry look from under his lashes, “Know just the reward for that kind of courage.”
Mmm, Quentin loved kissing Chet! That thick tongue had boldly invaded his mouth, and Chet’s lips were moving over his with such force that his own almost felt bruised. He clung to broad shoulders as his boyfriend devoured him, losing himself in the power and passion that was Chet Rollins. Big hands ran down his back and took a firm hold of his ass, making Quentin moan into the kiss. He squirmed as they kneaded and squeezed the cheeks. Oh, God, all he wanted was for this to go on forever! Screw school and real life – as long as he could kiss Chet he’d be satisfied. Even if he died of asphyxiation from lack of air, he’d be happy.
But Chet withdrew his lips at last, making Quentin whimper pitifully. His eyes were pleading as he looked up into Chet’s, and his mouth was open and kiss-swollen. The football player felt like doing some groaning of his own as he looked down at his boyfriend’s flushed face and languid eyes. “Quen,” he said throatily.
He could barely speak. His voice was a croak as he said: “Yes?”
Chet’s hands closed almost painfully in the firm flesh of Quentin’s backside. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled, his nostrils flaring slightly as he fell into a more animalistic state of mind.
Quentin gasped, then moaned on a long, falling note. “Shit, big man, I can’t think of anything that I want more,” he managed to husk. “Please, please fuck me.”
Chet’s chest rose and fell on a long, harsh breath. “Let’s do it,” he rumbled, then he pushed Quentin backward onto his bed and fell atop him. His big body completely covered his boyfriend’s, and Quentin twined his legs around Chet’s back as he enjoyed the weight of the big man’s body pressing atop him.
“I’m really glad,” Quentin told him, looking up into his eyes, “That you want to do this with me, Chet. I’ve pretty much been losing my mind lately. I want you so bad,” he said, even as he pushed upward with his hips to rub his still-clothed erection against the bulge in Chet’s jeans.
Chet’s only audible answer was a slight growl, then he attacked Quentin’s mouth with his own again. Their cocks rubbed and pushed and ground against each other, and Quentin dimly thought that it was a miracle that he didn’t come in his pants. The stimulation was so intense that he could barely hold himself back. He twined himself around Chet like a monkey, holding on for dear life as their tongues dueled in a fight that they were both destined to win – or perhaps lose. It didn’t matter, not in the least.
Chet finally pulled back, which was a good thing at that moment since Quentin wasn’t sure how much longer he could have held out. The football player reared back on his haunches, looking down at Quentin’s body splayed on his bed. His shirt was disarranged and rucked up so that his lean, rolling muscles were revealed, along with a cute innie belly button. Chet reached out and pushed the fabric up even more, revealing two pert pink nipples that begged to be sucked and kissed. Quentin’s chest was heaving and his belly was shuddering as Chet’s hot eyes raked over him.
Chet said nothing. He merely reached down and began to undo Quentin’s belt and the front of his jeans. Quentin moaned breathily, especially when big hands lifted him and began to yank the tight jeans down off of his narrow hips. He was ruthlessly stripped of his jeans and his bikini underwear both, and he loved every moment of it. Chet pulled the jeans off of his legs and tossed them away, complete with the underwear. His eyes went to the rock hard cock juddering between Quentin’s thighs, studying it. His big hand reached out, and Quentin mewled as those thick fingers closed over him and lightly stroked up and down. “Oh, Goddd…” he moaned, pushing upward with his hips. “Ooo, Chet…”
To his stunned shock, his boyfriend leaned forward and crouched over his legs. That thick tongue that had plundered his mouth was extended, and a wide-eyed Quentin watched in disbelief as Chet licked at the tip of his cock! He couldn’t take it anymore. He nearly screamed as he came, shooting his semen up in jets. Some of it fell onto Chet’s face in streaks, while others dappled his chest and stomach. He twitched and whimpered, closing his eyes. Wow, that had been intense.
He heard a soft rustling, and cracked an eye lid to see Chet methodically removing his clothes. His chest was so broad and massive, packed with muscle - he licked weakly at his lips in anticipation at the thought of being able to touch and taste that perfectly sculpted expanse. His fingers itched to run through the swirls of sandy-brown hair that edged Chet’s nipples and ran down his abdomen toward his groin. He moaned softly as jeans were discarded next, revealing that sturdy cock that proved that Chet didn’t use steroids. He trimmed his pubic hair, most likely because he had to wear a protective cup under his uniform. Sturdy, trunk-like thighs were also covered with a light dusting of hair. Chet Rollins was all man – and all his!
Quentin found energy he hadn’t known that he’d had. He sat up, peeling off his t-shirt and tossing it away. He wanted to be totally naked with Chet. He reached out to touch his boyfriend’s chest, his fingers skimming over it. Chet took in a deep breath as Quentin’s fingers reached his red-brown, flat male nipples. A seductive, cat-like smile, then the blue head dipped and a pink tongue swirled over his right nipple. Chet moaned in startled pleasure, then made an animal sound as teeth nibbled at the ridged peak. He hadn’t known that men’s nipples were this sensitive! His head went back a little, and his big hands clutched at Quentin’s arms.
“Mmm,” Quentin moaned as he began to kiss a trail over Chet’s chest toward his other nipple. “You taste so nice, big man. I could just eat you up.”
He tried to pull himself together, which wasn’t easy when Quentin’s mouth was attending to his other nipple with such skill. Chet released Quentin’s arms and ran his hands down his boyfriend’s bare back instead. The skin felt like silk and floss under his hands. The pert ass fell easily into his grip, the cheeks just waiting to be molded and cupped. Quentin wiggled and moaned around his nipple, which made Chet grit his teeth in turn.
Quentin began to drift downward, lapping at the rolling muscles in Chet’s abdomen like a sex kitten. He set a hand on his boyfriend’s chest and urged him backward, having Chet lie on the bed. He crouched over the football player, running his hands over that entire expanse of skin and muscle as he admired it with his eyes. He smiled down at Chet in a sultry manner, before he dipped his head and licked at the bottom of Chet’s stomach. He rubbed his cheek against the skin as his hand slid over to grip his boyfriend’s cock. It twitched in his hand. His breath fell warm on soft but rough pubic hair as he began to inch his face toward that big thing that he still held in his hand. Chet bit back a groan as Quentin tortured him, his heels digging into the bed a little.
Quentin stuck out his tongue and delicately licked at the leaking tip of the big cock. He ran it down the length of the shaft until he met his own hand, then moved on to the pair of sturdy balls underneath. He tongued at them, mouthing at the sac until Chet groaned for him. Quentin ran his tongue down to the soft skin of the perineum, darting it downward as Chet spread his legs instinctively. He heard a harsh, startled sound as he laved his tongue over the puckered surface of his boyfriend’s asshole. Quentin smirked to himself as he began to lick at the sensitive tissue, feeling Chet shuddering. He heard sounds of protest, but they died away as he continued his ministrations. Instead, the trunk-like legs lifted and bent as Chet gave him better access. Pride and smugness washed through him. He relished the long drawn out: “Fucccckkkk!!!” as he stuck his tongue into the tightening, spasming hole.
But finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. Eating Chet out had worked him up again, and his own cock was hard and ready again between his thighs. Quentin deserted his boyfriend, moving over to straddle Chet’s stomach with his ass toward his boyfriend’s face. “You’re going to have to…loosen me up, big man,” he panted. “With your fingers. Here,” he briefly lid off the bed, returning with a little tube in his hand. He gave this to Chet, who looked at it. It was lube. He frowned up at Quentin.
“Why do you carry this around with you?” he asked suspiciously.
Quentin smiled at him. “I only started doing it recently, because I hoped that you’d give us a chance to use it,” he purred. “I figured that you didn’t have any here,” he added, glancing around at Chet’s bedroom. “I was just trying to be prepared. Is there anything wrong with that?”
Chet decided that there wasn’t. “Get back up here,” he told Quentin on a growl.
“Aye aye, Captain,” Quentin replied merrily, before he crawled back up onto Chet’s body and arranged himself again.
Chet looked at the puckered pink ring nestled between the cheeks of Quentin’s ass. He opened the tube and squirted a bit onto his fingers, then tentatively reached out to press his fingertip to Quentin’s asshole. He heard a small sound of pleasure, and Quentin wriggled his hips a bit. Clearly he was inviting Chet to go further. He used his free hand to spread the cheeks a bit more, then he rubbed over the twitching pink ring with his fingertip .Quentin mewled and moved for him. Chet pressed on the ring ,and it opened like a flower to admit his fingertip. A little cry accompanied his breeching the ring, and Quentin’s back bowed a little. “Ohh, go deeper,” he panted
Chet complied. His thick finger slid inward, finding a hot, tight space that gripped at his finger seductively. The kittenish sounds that Quentin was emitting from his throat only made Chet more aggressive, and he pushed inward and moved his finger in a circle. A loud cry was his reward, and Quentin’s narrow hips bucked for him. And when Chet crooked his finger, Quentin spasmed and shook.
Chet took his time, invading and loosening Quentin’s hole with his thick fingers. He had worked three inside by now, and Quentin was a quivering mass who lay limply on his legs and made tortured little sounds. “Ahh, please,” he whimpered, writhing. “Please fuck me, big man!”
He’d be happy to. Chet’s teeth were gritted together as he fought off his impending orgasm. He dumped Quentin onto the bed, making him protest, and got up to go into his bathroom. He returned carrying a silver-foil packet in his hand, the sight of which made Quentin’s sounds turn happy and full of anticipation. He wriggled his ass in the air as Chet tore open the packet and pulled out a condom. His fingers fumbled a little in his haste as he seated it on his cock, then climbed back on the bed.
Chet grabbed the lube and smeared it onto himself, then tossed the tube away and grabbed Quentin’s hips instead. He spread the cheeks of his boyfriend’s ass to reveal that secretive pink hole once again, and Quentin gasped and jinked his hips a little. Chet took himself in hand and directed his dick to the right place, hesitating a bit as he did so. He’d never had anal sex with a girl, so he had no idea if it was the same as fucking a vagina.
Fortunately for him, Quentin realized his dilemma and wriggled his ass in Chet’s face. “Just stick it in, big man,” he told his boyfriend. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Do it.”
This command made Chet react. He pushed, and his cock slid inside like a knife through butter. Quentin groaned in painful pleasure as he was filled up, and he gasped. “Stop. Just for a moment.”
Chet did as he said, his big hands gripping Quentin’s hips as he struggled not to just come in that hot, tight gripping glove that was squeezing his dick so nicely. God, this was good! He liked the sight of himself buried in that pretty, round white ass. Quentin’s body shivered, then he lifted himself up on his arms a bit and looked over his shoulder at Chet. “All right, big man. Do me,” he directed. “Hard,” he went on, even as his internal muscles clamped down on Chet’s cock deliberately.
With a low, animal sound, Chet did just as he said. He began to fuck Quentin with long, hard strokes, his hands holding his boyfriend in place for each thrust. Quentin cried out, his back bowing and his hands digging into the blanket under him as he was plowed. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck!” he chanted, seeing stars.
Chet was a relentless, pounding machine. He grunted as he took Quentin like an animal, riding that white ass for all it was worth. Quentin had lost all breath and sight by now, and his body jerked helplessly as he was taken from behind. His cock swayed under him, bright red and leaking heavily. Chet was pounding his prostate on nearly every inward thrust, and pre-ejaculate was literally being pushed out of his body. He didn’t have the strength to touch it, but he didn’t really think that mattered anyway. He was going to come, one way or the other. It was as inevitable as the tides or the seasons. Then a big hand left his hip and slid upward to find one of his nipples, and fingertips twisted it lightly. That was all she wrote. Quentin gave forth a breathless cry as he exploded all over the blanket under him, his semen jetting out of him in long bursts. He shuddered, half-collapsing as Chet’s big hand held him up.
He heard a low groan, and felt the big body over him jerk several times. Quentin smiled wearily, his head hanging. It had been just as good as he’d imagined it would be. No, it had been even better. Having sex with the one you loved was way more fulfilling than just fucking some random guy. And it didn’t hurt that said loved one was hot, sexy, huge, and a true animal in bed. There was no one on this planet, Quentin Yardsley knew, who was luckier than he was right at this moment.
Go to Part 9
