Page 11 of Pages of My Heart
Charlie lifts his head, his face flushed. “Yeah.”
“Pass me the Vaseline.”
Charlie passes him the jar and Thomas opens it quickly, not wanting to break the mood.
He coats one finger in the cool jelly, then using his other hand to hold the base of Charlie’s cock, he swirls his tongue around the head, ending with a dip into the slit, where he tastes Charlie for the first time.
The clear precome is sweeter than he expected, and he runs his tongue over his top lip, spreading it provocatively.
Charlie is toying with his own nipples, head lifted from the pillow as he watches Thomas wide-eyed.
Thomas slides his lips down, his mouth stretched wide around the ample girth.
He goes too far and gags a little, but then quickly gets the hang of it, learning his limit and sucking hard while trying not to use his teeth.
Once he feels more confident, spurred on by Charlie’s sighs and the slight roll of his hips, he slowly and gently presses one finger against Charlie’s hole. With the Vaseline there is minimal resistance, and Charlie gasps a little as Thomas pushes inside, but he doesn’t ask him to stop.
Thomas slows his mouth, keeping Charlie hard but not pushing him too close to orgasm.
He hasn’t had time to acknowledge how he feels about Charlie’s cock inside his mouth, choosing instead to focus on the heat around his finger as he pushes it in and out of Charlie’s hole, over and over again, excited by how the muscle slowly loosens.
With his jaw growing tired, he takes a final sucking pull and lets Charlie fall from his mouth.
“Does this feel better?” he ask, studying Charlie’s face for signs of distress. “Does it still hurt?”
That sweet furrow is back between his brows, and when Charlie replies, his voice is husky and languid. “Feels good. But one finger ain’t nothing compared to your dick.”
Thomas chuckles softly. “We’ll get there. Slowly.” He removes his finger from Charlie’s heat, adds more Vaseline, and then carefully pushes two fingers inside. Charlie lets out a guttural moan, lifting his pelvis as if seeking more.
Thomas is wet, and hard, and wanting, but he knows he needs to take his time, so he sets about stroking Charlie while he continues pumping into him with his fingers.
When Charlie starts continuously rocking down onto his hand, Thomas experiments a little, turning his fingers this way and that, fascinated by the warmth and the texture, and by the way Charlie’s relaxed rim flutters around them.
Suddenly, Charlie grunts and arches off the bed, startling Thomas so badly he nearly pulls away.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, Tommy. Do that again.”
“Do what?” Thomas’s heart is racing wildly, but he tries to remember what he just did, pressing deep and curling his fingers up and back.
“Oh fuck! Right there. There’s a spot . . . when you touch it, it feels—” Charlie gasps again. “Yes! There, that’s it. Fucking hell, Red, that feels so good.”
Thomas is spellbound, watching Charlie squirm and writhe around in ecstasy on his bed while he continues to stroke the spongy little lump he’s found that makes Charlie react whenever he passes over it.
Thomas pays attention to where it is and wonders if he can make his cock rub against it, too.
The thought makes him nearly delirious with want.
“Please, Charlie,” he begs, voice wrecked. “Please . . . I need to be inside you so bad. Can we try? Please can I try being inside you again?”
Charlie lifts onto his elbows, chest heaving and mouth hanging open. He nods, dazed looking but sure. “Yeah, let’s try.”
Thomas carefully pulls his fingers from Charlie’s body and then covers his own aching shaft with Vaseline. Charlie makes to flip over and get back on his hands and knees, but Thomas stops him with a gentle hand.
“No, just—let’s try like this. Want to see you.”
Charlie looks nonplussed, but he doesn’t protest. Shuffling closer, Thomas lines up with Charlie’s entrance and tries to hold himself steady.
“Ready?”
Charlie licks his lips and nods once.
There is still resistance when Thomas starts to push, but this time when Charlie cries out, head thrown back against the pillow, it’s clear it’s not from pain but from pleasure.
Already everything about this second time feels better—the position is far more intimate, and he’s able to watch the expressions dance across Charlie’s face as he breaches his rim.
Thomas prays for self-control. For restraint.
Gradually, inch by inch, his cock disappears inside Charlie until their bodies are completely joined, his dick throbbing almost painfully inside the tight heat.
It’s nothing like a hand, or even a mouth.
This is all-consuming, thought-stealing bliss.
“Kiss me, Tommy.” Charlie reaches urgently for him. “Please.”
Thomas lowers himself over Charlie and brings their mouths together, willing himself not to orgasm too soon.
Charlie pants and whines, feet coming up to wrap around Thomas’s hips.
Thomas thrusts, his cock sliding smoothly in and out with the aid of the Vaseline.
But oh God it is so tight. There is no way he can last, the sensation, the pressure, all so unbearably good.
He uses a hand to hoist Charlie’s thigh higher on his hip, driving deeper and deeper.
He’s moaning so loudly as he thrusts, so desperately, that he cannot believe it’s his own voice.
“Oh God, Charlie, I can’t stop it,” he cries out. “You feel so good, so perfect. I can’t—”
Thomas tumbles over the edge, groaning brokenly into Charlie’s open mouth. No release has ever felt like this before, ever been this strong or made his body tremble so uncontrollably.
When Thomas comes back to his senses, Charlie is gently petting at his hair and running a soothing hand down his back.
Thomas smiles at him dopily and starts peppering his face with sweet kisses.
Charlie laughs and squirms beneath him, and with a start Thomas realizes that Charlie is still hard.
Guilt washes over him as he recognizes his selfishness.
“What can I do?” he asks. “Tell me what you need.” Thomas sits back up onto his knees and takes Charlie’s cock in hand. It looks painfully hard, and Charlie has leaked all over both of their stomachs.
“Use your hand. But . . . can you stay inside me?”
Thomas slowly thrusts with his softening cock as he strokes Charlie’s length.
He thinks he could actually get hard again, the sight of Charlie flushed and sweaty enough to have his balls already tingling, but it takes only a few minutes for Charlie to reach his climax, his eyes closed tight and a string of profanities falling from his swollen lips.
Thomas didn’t get to see Charlie come when they were locked together in the alleyway, but this time he watches Charlie’s thick seed shoot up and then drip down over his hand. He finds it incredibly erotic.
Charlie’s breathing eventually levels out and he opens his eyes. Even in the dark of the room, Thomas is stunned by their brilliant shade of blue.
“You’re beautiful, Charlie,” he says again.
Eyes still locked, Thomas brings his hand to his mouth and tastes Charlie’s seed. He doesn’t know why he does it, and for a second, he freezes, unsure. But then Charlie moans, a sinful rumble in the back of his throat, and Thomas licks the rest of his fingers clean.
When he pulls out his softened cock, it shocks him to see his own come drip slowly from Charlie’s hole.
“God damn,” he whispers.
Thomas doesn’t quite understand what he’s feeling, but he knows he doesn’t want anyone else to experience this with Charlie.
He already wants to take Charlie again. Is this love?
Or just lust? The feelings overwhelm him, so he does the only thing that makes sense and covers Charlie’s body with his own, kissing him deeply.
They nuzzle and kiss and gently explore each other’s bodies for a long time until sleep finally tugs at their minds and claws at their bodies.
They should get up and bathe, but Thomas cannot bear to detach himself from Charlie or this bed.
Thomas whispers sweet things into the dark—vulnerable things, things that expose parts of himself that he’s never revealed to another—and Charlie gifts him the same in return.
With Charlie pressed to his side and breathing evenly against his neck, Thomas closes his eyes, a final thought floating through his mind before sleep takes him.
I think I love you, Charlie Miller.