Page 69 of Out of Control

He cupped the tip of Drago’s cock as Dray made one more violent thrust into his palm and then came all at once in a geyser of hot, sticky, slippery cum. He captured as much of it as he could in his hand and then reached down between them to smear it all over his own cock. The sliding sensation of it was almost too much to bear. He groaned aloud.

“Fuck me, Spencer. Fuck me now.”

Right.

Using his slippery hand, he rubbed his palm across Drago’s asshole. He dipped one finger into the unbelievably tight, hot opening, and Dray’s hips lurched.

He yanked his hand back. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, numbskull. I loved it. Keep going. You’re doing great.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me already.”

“I thought I was calling the shots tonight. Cool your jets, Dray.”

“Sorry. Fuck me already, please.”

A gust of humor escaped him. God bless Drago for making him laugh and relaxing him through this, his first try at doing another guy.

He positioned the head of his cock at that tight little aperture that in no way felt capable of taking him. He pushed a little with his hips and met firm resistance. “This isn’t going to work.”

“Trust me. It’ll work just fine. Use your finger to work me open a little. Oh, yeah. Like that.” Drago devolved into swearing again, and his ass pressed back against Spencer’s hand.

Spencer felt the sphincter muscle relax a little. He slipped in a second finger. Drago groaned. Spencer turned his fingers from side to side, and Drago groaned more loudly. The sound of his lover’s pleasure was intoxicating.

He placed his cock at Drago’s entrance and pressed forward again. This time the tip of his erection lodged inside the incredible tightness of Dray’s ass.

“Gimme a sec,” Drago gasped. “I forgot you’re hung like a horse.”

He paused, waiting for Drago’s muscles to accept the invasion and relax.

“Okay. I’m good. I can take a little more of you.”

He eased forward a few more inches. “We good?”

“Oh, man. So good. Fill me up, Spencer.”

Inch by delicious inch, he pushed into Drago’s body. It was so hot, so tight, so erotic, his eyeballs threatened to roll back in his head from the pleasure. And then he was seated all the way to the hilt, balls-deep inside Drago.

Dray’s internal muscles clenched and unclenched around his erection, and he groaned at the glory of being milked by this man. His hips rolled forward. Back.

Forward again.

The sweet friction was exactly right. Not enough to be painful to either of them but just rough enough to drive him out of his mind. And from the mewling sounds Drago was making, it was driving him out of his too.

Slowly, slowly, he set up a rhythm. In. Out. Deep. Shallow. Gentle, and then a little harder.

“Yes, yes,” Drago rasped.

Spencer drove a little harder. A little deeper. Oh man, that felt like a tiny slice of heaven. Emboldened by the sounds of pleasure Dray was making, he picked up the pace. He engaged his own muscular glutes, driving into his lover a little harder still. Drago met him thrust for thrust, pushing back against him.

He ground out from between clenched teeth, “God, I love your hungry ass.”

“Take it. Fuck it. Fuck me,” Drago panted in time with his pounding thrusts. The more Drago urged him on, the more he let go of his control and the better it felt.

So long he’d waited for this. So many barren, frustrated years of denial and misery. Why on earth had he waited so long to do this?