Chapter 41
I settled into the passenger seat of Zach’s truck and scrubbed at my face. I know I haven’t started the medicals yet, but when I’m tired my face itches like a two-day beard and nothing stops the sensation for me but a razor.
Zach noticed. “Don’t shave right away,” he begged. “It’s hot.” How could I not love this man?
I smirked at him. “You just want my face on your balls.”
“Damn straight,” he agreed, grinning, and playfully gunned the motor to let me know how much of a hurry he was in.
My cock was throbbing in agreement. Zach reached over and settled his hand between my thighs, cupping the balls he couldn’t feel but had never doubted were there. I enjoyed his touch for a moment, then pushed his hand away. “Two hands on the wheel, mister,” I scolded.
“Yessir,” he said, mock-cowed, and we laughed. “Let’s go home.”
We barely made it through the door before we were attacking each other, all but tearing off each other’s clothes (T-shirts are oddly difficult to tear if they haven’t been damaged to begin with) and racing each other to the bedroom.
I pushed Zach down on the bed and sucked his cock down as fast as I could. I’d been missing that musky scent, that slightly bitter flavor. I groaned around it, and he grunted at the additional sensation. I sucked hard, taking him deep, and he shuddered. I pulled off before he could come, and he yanked me down, rolled on top of me.
He kissed me, just on the edge of too hard, exactly the way I like it, down my jaw, down my neck, down. Down. He hesitated at the edge of my bindings (if there’s an argument to be made in favor of the medicals, it’s that my man has an obsession with nipples and I would love to be able to indulge him without getting caught up in the floppyroundgross that is my breasts) but decided to move onward, down.
His beard scraped deliciously over my stomach for a while and I let it, luxuriating in the mounting arousal, my hands roaming over his shoulders and through his hair. His hands stroked down my hips and thighs, then returned to my hips, nudging at me to turn over.
He dove into the folds of my ass with abandon. “Ass-kisser,” I laughed, because that joke will never notbe funny, and he responded by pushing his tongue into my hole until I was groaning too hard to laugh, grinding my cock into the mattress harder and harder until I was afraid I was going to come too soon. “Harness,” I gasped, squirming out from under him to grab for it while he leaned the other way to get the lube.
I have a love-hate relationship with the harness. It gets in the way. It’s harder to feel my dick and balls when I’m wearing it, too easy to feel the squashywet girlparts, the hole that neither of us want, the vulva and clit that serve only to annoy and draw sensation away from the warm swell of my cock, and I hate it for that, for reminding me that my physical body is such an inaccurate reflection of the real me. But it lets me fuck Zach with a cock hecan feel, and for that, I love it. I watched his eyes, feeling him clench and relax under me as I eased into his body.
I knew I was fully seated when he shivered and went boneless for an instant. “Give it to me hard, babe,” he groaned, his hips already rocking.
I rocked with him, then began the thrust, my back arching, my hips rolling. (Not for the first time, I wondered if the medicals would change that; cismen’s hips are jointed a little differently, and while Zach is as gay as the proverbial spring flower basket, I know he loves that little roll.) When his eyelids dropped to half-mast and his gaze went misty, I curled one hand around his cock and added a twist to the roll of my hips that would let the dildo nail his prostate.
Lost in the gorgeous expression on his face, the feel of his prick in my hand, the roll of my hips against his, I let go, just for a moment—despite the harness, despite the ache in my supporting arm and shoulder—and my cock surged to life, head swelling and balls tightening until suddenly, finally, everything condensed into a moment of consuming, consummating fire and exploding release
Zach felt it, and even though it didn’t come from the dildo inside him, it excited him, pushed him past the boundary, too. His whole body tightened under me as his come poured over my stroking fist.