Efrain and Cory Ch. 21

Preston simply shrugged and went back to eating his sushi.

The correct way.

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I was going to keep this casual and cool. No way was I going to scare off yet another guy because I couldn't stop myself from getting clingy.

Yep, Preston J. Finnegan was going to keep it cool.

I wasn't even going to dress up. I'd taken my shower after practice, then pulled on the first thing I pulled out of my dresser.

And then I pulled it right back off the moment I saw myself in the mirror.

God, I looked like a slob!

After too many wardrobe changes to keep count, I finally settled on the perfect outfit and resumed keeping it casual and cool.

I wore a t-shirt and sweatpants that were both a size too tight, but looked fucking hot. The way the material clung to my body was almost obscene, especially when it came to my ass (which was fucking fabulous -- thanks for asking). I was certain Indie would have no choice but to be absolutely gobsmacked and unable to help falling over himself to worship me.

I scrunched up my sweatpants over my calves, mainly because it seemed to get too hot if they covered my ankles (it didn't hurt that it also made me look cuter), then worked on various assignments so I'd be in the middle of something when Indie came over. Problem was, two hours of coursework was enough to make anyone go crazy. I went back and forth between homework, chores, and jumping at anything that sounded even remotely like Indie knocking on my door, but it only served to make me more antsy.

Just two minutes before my sanity snapped, Indie arrived. My sweatpants kept me nice and warm, but the thin t-shirt did nothing to guard my poor chest from the cold air blowing in behind him. My nipples got hard enough to poke holes through the fabric, but I noticed with a hint of satisfaction that he certainly appreciated the sight. Couldn't have planned that better myself!

I let him follow me in so he could check out my ass.

"You can get comfortable on the bed. Sorry that I don't have a couch, but it's kinda hard to fit things in here," I said. "Let me get you something to..."

I trailed off as he pulled my back against his chest. When I looked up, he lowered his mouth to mine. Our height difference made it easy to kiss like this, but it meant that his hard as fuck dick rubbed against my back, nowhere near where I wanted it. I whimpered in frustration, aware that the only thing keeping my dick from tenting my suddenly too-tight sweatpants was a skimpy pair of bikini briefs. I wanted so badly to grind my ass against his hard length, but had to content myself with him rubbing his hands down my chest until his thumbs found my nipples. He chaffed them through my t-shirt and my back arched involuntarily. After a few flicks, one hand continued down to lift up my shirt. Both hands slipped under the thin cotton and found my nips once again. He teased, flicked, pinched, rubbed -- his fingers still cold from the November air -- and I panted and whined for more.

He mouth worked across my cheek until he pressed a soft kiss by my ear. I could barely process the words he murmured to me, and could only throb in time to his voice.

"Huh?"

"I said, what movie are we watching?"

"What?"

"Movie."

"Movie?" I asked, still a little disoriented.

"Yeah, what movie are we watching?" The asshole was laughing at me again!

"Doesn't matter," I said. I moved off to my tiny as fuck galley kitchen. I needed a drink if I was to deal with anymore of his teasing. "Want a beer or something?"

I'd have to go back through my viewing history to figure out what the hell we watched because I remember precisely dick about it. I do remember sitting between his legs and lying back against his chest while he stroked my arms. At some point, we decided to pull off our pants and pull the blanket over our laps.

Which led to him nibbling at my neck.

Which led to me panting and squirming.

Which led to him raking his fingertips up and down the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

Which led to me reaching behind and palming his dick through his boxers.

Which led to him moaning into my ear.

Which led to me turning around and straddling his lap.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and flung it aside before I slanted my mouth across his. His tongue met mine halfway, but I still found myself being pulled into the kiss, painfully aware of the pieces of clothing still separating our bodies. I thrust against him, as if writhing in his lap would make certain bits of fabric disappear.

He rolled me over onto my back and made his way down, stopping the sweet torture he'd been inflicting on my chest long enough to pull off his shirt. I panted harder the lower his mouth moved, almost to the point of hyperventilating by the time his fingers hooked into my waistband. I forgot how to breathe when his lips closed over my head and I felt the familiar stainless steel ball on the underside of my shaft as his tongue rolled against me. Holding in the keening cries working their way up my throat was a fight I knew I was close to losing the longer he held me between his lips.

But then he finished pulling off my underwear and started making me crazy. His mouth worked over my balls, sucking them between his lips and giving a couple light tugs. Indie pushed up on my legs and pressed my knees into the mattress. Thus spread open, I felt vulnerable and exposed. His eyes, so dark that they seemed black, watched me intently as he inched even lower. I felt his tongue lap at my ass, swirl around it, and I lost the struggle to keep quiet. With my knees pinned down on either side of my chest, I couldn't thrust against his mouth and was forced to cry and beg for more.

Indie paused long enough to lick his fingers before working them into me and my voice rose higher. He did something with his fingers that made my eyes roll back, and then continued to work his hands this way and that, seeking out all my sweet spots. I was a helpless mess, completely incapable of forming the words needed to beg him to take me. I tried reaching for the nightstand so I could get into my condom stash, but could just barely touch the edge and then he flipped his hand over and scissored his fingers and I forgot all about my mission. Thankfully, I was too out of it to be embarrassed by what I must have looked like as I whimpered and batted feebly at my bedroom furniture.

"Need something?" he asked.

"You," I whimpered.

"Where?"

"There."

"Here?" He arched his eyebrow and shifted his fingers over a sensitive area.

"Yes!" I gasped. "There!" He shifted in me again and there became the only word I could remember. It poured out of my mouth over and over, interrupted when I finally managed to remember oh God, please. His only response was to lick up -- from perineum to frenulum -- and swallow my dick whole. He got back up on his hands and knees before moving back up my body, shedding his boxers in the process. Indie's crawl was too fucking slow and I ended up yanking him to me so I could kiss him again. His long limbs had no trouble reaching the nightstand to fumble around for a condom and lube, and I all but whined for him to hurry.

He sat back on his heels and rolled on the condom. He pulled my hips on top of his thighs, dribbled lube along his length where it rested against me. His hips flexed forward and his cock slid along my cleft. I planted my toes on either side of his legs so I could move with him. I lifted my hips higher, until his head rested against my hole, took a deep breath then slowly impaled myself on his dick. My hips moved slowly down his length, taking him deeper, easing him back out, sliding even further down.

Despite the chill in my apartment, my body practically burned by the time my ass came to rest on his thighs once more. I hadn't forgotten how big he was, but his cock still took some getting used to. I was stretched almost painfully, and it took me several breaths to relax. Indie's breath hissed between his teeth as I shifted in his lap with my tight hole clenched around him, but he held himself absolutely still until the aching subsided and I started fucking myself on his cock.

"Fuck," he groaned. His hands came up to rub over my chest and stomach while my hips worked, lifting up to the tip, then plunging back down. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching you."

He leaned back over me, curling his arms underneath. He spread his knees so my ass dropped between his thighs while keeping me trapped. Then he pulled back and thrust forward. I'd been able to control my voice when I controlled our fucking, but I was more than willing to surrender. My arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, pulled him closer. He sped up within me, pushing me even further and I muffled my cries against his shoulder. My nails dug into his back, creating angry red welts that would still be visible the next morning.

He shifted his weight to one elbow and freed his hand to wrap around my cock. His fingers matched the syncopated rhythms his hips seemed hell-bent on pounding into my ass. Indie pushed me closer to the brink and I just barely had enough presence of mind to grab a pillow and cram it into my face before he shoved me headlong over the edge. I screamed around a mouthful of cotton and down filling as my back arched up. My cum shot between our bodies and the accompanying muscle spasms pulled several moans from him until he himself came a handful of thrusts later.

Indie rested his head on my shoulder while he pulled out of me. We shuddered and panted while our heart rates slowly returned to normal. He held me close, even after he rolled off me, kissing me until the room stopped spinning.

"Be right back," he said, dropping a quick peck on my forehead. He slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, probably to clean off. I heard him open the cabinet where I kept my bath linens and the faucet turn on. When he returned, he brought a warm wet washcloth and a towel. I held out my hand, thanking him for the gesture, but he set about cleaning me up himself. I was even more bewildered when he tucked himself in bed with me and wrapped me up in his arms.

Indie spent the night without me even having to ask.

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