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- Jul 27, 2020
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- Male
After the night Simon and Thomas jerked off together (see here) they slowly take their new found kinship to a new level.
The room was dim, thick with heat and the scent of sweat, beer, and something deeper—something primal. Simon lay sprawled across the mattress, his skin flushed, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His head swam, but it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore.
Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded, scanning over Simons exposed body—the way his thighs tensed slightly, how his cock lay against his stomach, half-hard, twitching with each slow inhale.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Thomas moved, slipping off the bed and kneeling between Simon’s legs, the wooden floor cool against his knees. His hands slid up Simon’s thighs, fingers pressing into muscle, feeling the heat beneath his skin. His thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles, tracing the faint lines where Simon’s body had been pressed against the sheets.
Simon’s breath caught as Thomas dipped down, lips pressing against the inside of his thigh. The touch was light at first, teasing, but deliberate. He moved upward with slow, open-mouthed kisses, tasting the salt of Simon’s skin, the lingering traces of sweat. The closer he got, the more Simon’s body responded—his stomach tensing, his cock filling out, thick and heavy against his abdomen.
Thomas exhaled, warm breath ghosting over Simon’s dick before he finally licked a slow, wet stripe along the underside. Simon’s hips twitched, an involuntary reaction, and Thomas smirked. He pressed his tongue flat against him, dragging it up before taking him into his mouth—slow, deep, letting the weight of him settle on his tongue.
Simon let out a shaky breath, his fingers threading into Thomas’ thick hair. He didn’t push, didn’t guide—just held on, his grip tightening when Thomas took him deeper, lips sealing around him with slick, steady pressure.
Thomas took his time, sucking him in slow pulls, letting his tongue explore every inch—teasing the head, tracing the ridge, hollowing his cheeks as he moved down again. Simon wasn’t used to this—not like this, not with someone who seemed to enjoy it so much, who was completely in control but not rushing, not forcing, just… indulging.
His thighs trembled slightly when Thomas’ hands wandered lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in his palm before his fingers brushed even lower. Simon’s breath hitched as he felt Thomas’ fingertips graze over the soft ginger fuzz that framed his hole.
He tensed—just for a second.
Thomas noticed.
His lips left Simon’s cock, moving lower, pressing a wet kiss against the sensitive skin beneath his balls. “Relax,” he murmured against him, his voice rough, dripping with hunger. His hands smoothed over Simon’s thighs again, coaxing them further apart. “You’ll like it.”
Simon swallowed hard, heat pooling low in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was the words or the way Thomas said them, but a fresh wave of arousal washed over him, making his cock throb where it lay against his stomach.
Then he felt it.
A flick of Thomas’ tongue, right against the tight ring of muscle. A barely-there touch, just enough to send a sharp pulse of sensation through Simon’s body. His breath stuttered, fingers tightening in Thomas’ hair.
Thomas smirked against him before licking again, firmer this time, wetter, pressing flat against Simon’s hole. The sensation was new, unfamiliar, but fuck—his whole body reacted. His hips lifted instinctively, heat spreading through him as Thomas’ tongue worked him open with slow, deliberate strokes.
The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and intimate. Simon couldn’t stop the quiet, desperate sounds escaping his throat. His cock twitched against his stomach, untouched but painfully hard, leaking precum onto his skin.
Thomas pulled back slightly, his fingers replacing his tongue, brushing over the slick entrance. His eyes flicked up, meeting Simon’s. A silent question.
Simon hesitated for only a second before parting his lips, understanding what Thomas wanted.
He took Thomas’ hand and brought his fingers into his mouth, sucking them in deep, coating them in spit. It was instinctual, almost filthy, and the way Thomas groaned at the sight sent another jolt of arousal straight to Simon’s cock.
“Good boy,” Thomas murmured, voice thick with approval.
The words hit Simon harder than he expected. His cock jerked, and he swallowed around Thomas’ fingers before letting them go, his lips shiny with spit.
Thomas didn’t waste time. He pressed a single finger against Simon’s hole, circling, teasing, before pushing in slowly. The stretch was foreign, a dull pressure at first, but Thomas moved with care, watching Simon’s face, gauging every reaction.
Simon exhaled shakily, adjusting to the intrusion. Then Thomas curled his finger—just right.
Simon’s whole body jerked, a sharp moan spilling from his lips. His back arched, his thighs trembling, a deep pressure blooming inside him that sent pleasure shooting up his spine. It felt like he was being electrocuted.
“There it is,” Thomas whispered. He pressed again, rubbing slow, steady circles over that spot, pushing a little deeper each time. He put another finger into Simon.
He was shaking now, his cock throbbing, his body completely open beneath Thomas’ touch. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just feeling—drowning in the intensity of it.
“Thomas—” His voice cracked, barely a word, more of a desperate, broken sound.
Thomas smirked. “I know.”
He leaned in, licking his hole, balls and up Simon’s length. And down again, tonguing his heavy, twitching balls. Thomas’ his fingers never stopping their slow, relentless pressure. The combination was too much. Simon’s body betrayed him, his hips rocking helplessly, chasing the pleasure.
And then—he shattered.
A strangled moan ripped from his throat as he came, hard. His cock pulsed against his stomach, spilling thick ropes of cum over his skin, his chest, his fingers twitching where they clutched at the sheets. The orgasm tore through him in waves, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving him breathless, shaking.
Thomas stilled, watching him, drinking in the sight. He dragged his fingers through the mess on Simon’s stomach, rubbing it between his fingers before bringing it to his lips, tasting him.
Thomas smirked. “That,” he murmured, dragging his lips lazily over Simon’s thigh, licking up a few drops of semen “was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Simon swallowed hard, his body still thrumming with aftershocks. “I think you just killed me.” He was still gasping for breath when Thomas shifted beside him.
Their eyes met.
A silent challenge.
Simon swallowed, his senses still drunk on the moment, on the scent of sweat, sex, and Thomas. He licked his lips, shifting onto his side, his fingers trailing down Thomas’ body—over the hard lines of his stomach, the dip of his hipbone, until he wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock. Something about this night, about how Thomas had completely wrecked him, made Simon want to return the favour. He wanted to make Thomas feel the same way, wanted to give as much as he had received.
It was big, heavy in his palm, burning hot against his skin. Thomas inhaled sharply as Simon stroked him, slow and uncertain at first but growing bolder with each breath.
Then, with only a brief hesitation, he dipped his head and took him into his mouth.
The weight, the heat, the sheer size—it was overwhelming at first. His lips stretched around him, his tongue pressing against the underside, learning what made Thomas groan, what made his stomach clench. Thomas wasn’t guiding him—he wasn’t taking control. He was letting Simon find his rhythm, letting him learn, and that trust, that silence between them, was almost as intoxicating as the act itself.
Simon’s own arousal stirred again, his body waking up as he lost himself in it. The sounds Thomas made—the sharp inhales, the deep, breathy moans—sent a pulse of heat straight to his core. Simon grabbed his own cock and started jerking himself off. Thomas’ fingers tangled in Simon’s messy curls, his grip tightening as Simon grew more confident, his lips working faster, his tongue teasing more deliberately.
Then, with a sharp breath, Thomas pulled back slightly, stroking himself once, twice—
And on the third, he let go.
Simon barely had time to react before the heat of it hit his face—thick and warm, streaking across his cheek, his lips, dripping down his chin.
For a second, he was frozen, his breath caught in his throat. Then, instinct took over. He swiped his tongue over his lips, tasting him, and something about it—something filthy, something raw—sent another wave of arousal crashing over him, made him come again.
Thomas chuckled, breathless. He reached out, thumb tracing a stray drop from Simon’s chin before pulling him in for a kiss—deep, messy, tasting himself on Simon’s tongue. The kiss was raw, unexpected, and it left them both lightheaded.
A dark promise lingered between them.
“We’re doing that again.”
The room was dim, thick with heat and the scent of sweat, beer, and something deeper—something primal. Simon lay sprawled across the mattress, his skin flushed, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His head swam, but it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore.
Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded, scanning over Simons exposed body—the way his thighs tensed slightly, how his cock lay against his stomach, half-hard, twitching with each slow inhale.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Thomas moved, slipping off the bed and kneeling between Simon’s legs, the wooden floor cool against his knees. His hands slid up Simon’s thighs, fingers pressing into muscle, feeling the heat beneath his skin. His thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles, tracing the faint lines where Simon’s body had been pressed against the sheets.
Simon’s breath caught as Thomas dipped down, lips pressing against the inside of his thigh. The touch was light at first, teasing, but deliberate. He moved upward with slow, open-mouthed kisses, tasting the salt of Simon’s skin, the lingering traces of sweat. The closer he got, the more Simon’s body responded—his stomach tensing, his cock filling out, thick and heavy against his abdomen.
Thomas exhaled, warm breath ghosting over Simon’s dick before he finally licked a slow, wet stripe along the underside. Simon’s hips twitched, an involuntary reaction, and Thomas smirked. He pressed his tongue flat against him, dragging it up before taking him into his mouth—slow, deep, letting the weight of him settle on his tongue.
Simon let out a shaky breath, his fingers threading into Thomas’ thick hair. He didn’t push, didn’t guide—just held on, his grip tightening when Thomas took him deeper, lips sealing around him with slick, steady pressure.
Thomas took his time, sucking him in slow pulls, letting his tongue explore every inch—teasing the head, tracing the ridge, hollowing his cheeks as he moved down again. Simon wasn’t used to this—not like this, not with someone who seemed to enjoy it so much, who was completely in control but not rushing, not forcing, just… indulging.
His thighs trembled slightly when Thomas’ hands wandered lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in his palm before his fingers brushed even lower. Simon’s breath hitched as he felt Thomas’ fingertips graze over the soft ginger fuzz that framed his hole.
He tensed—just for a second.
Thomas noticed.
His lips left Simon’s cock, moving lower, pressing a wet kiss against the sensitive skin beneath his balls. “Relax,” he murmured against him, his voice rough, dripping with hunger. His hands smoothed over Simon’s thighs again, coaxing them further apart. “You’ll like it.”
Simon swallowed hard, heat pooling low in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was the words or the way Thomas said them, but a fresh wave of arousal washed over him, making his cock throb where it lay against his stomach.
Then he felt it.
A flick of Thomas’ tongue, right against the tight ring of muscle. A barely-there touch, just enough to send a sharp pulse of sensation through Simon’s body. His breath stuttered, fingers tightening in Thomas’ hair.
Thomas smirked against him before licking again, firmer this time, wetter, pressing flat against Simon’s hole. The sensation was new, unfamiliar, but fuck—his whole body reacted. His hips lifted instinctively, heat spreading through him as Thomas’ tongue worked him open with slow, deliberate strokes.
The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and intimate. Simon couldn’t stop the quiet, desperate sounds escaping his throat. His cock twitched against his stomach, untouched but painfully hard, leaking precum onto his skin.
Thomas pulled back slightly, his fingers replacing his tongue, brushing over the slick entrance. His eyes flicked up, meeting Simon’s. A silent question.
Simon hesitated for only a second before parting his lips, understanding what Thomas wanted.
He took Thomas’ hand and brought his fingers into his mouth, sucking them in deep, coating them in spit. It was instinctual, almost filthy, and the way Thomas groaned at the sight sent another jolt of arousal straight to Simon’s cock.
“Good boy,” Thomas murmured, voice thick with approval.
The words hit Simon harder than he expected. His cock jerked, and he swallowed around Thomas’ fingers before letting them go, his lips shiny with spit.
Thomas didn’t waste time. He pressed a single finger against Simon’s hole, circling, teasing, before pushing in slowly. The stretch was foreign, a dull pressure at first, but Thomas moved with care, watching Simon’s face, gauging every reaction.
Simon exhaled shakily, adjusting to the intrusion. Then Thomas curled his finger—just right.
Simon’s whole body jerked, a sharp moan spilling from his lips. His back arched, his thighs trembling, a deep pressure blooming inside him that sent pleasure shooting up his spine. It felt like he was being electrocuted.
“There it is,” Thomas whispered. He pressed again, rubbing slow, steady circles over that spot, pushing a little deeper each time. He put another finger into Simon.
He was shaking now, his cock throbbing, his body completely open beneath Thomas’ touch. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just feeling—drowning in the intensity of it.
“Thomas—” His voice cracked, barely a word, more of a desperate, broken sound.
Thomas smirked. “I know.”
He leaned in, licking his hole, balls and up Simon’s length. And down again, tonguing his heavy, twitching balls. Thomas’ his fingers never stopping their slow, relentless pressure. The combination was too much. Simon’s body betrayed him, his hips rocking helplessly, chasing the pleasure.
And then—he shattered.
A strangled moan ripped from his throat as he came, hard. His cock pulsed against his stomach, spilling thick ropes of cum over his skin, his chest, his fingers twitching where they clutched at the sheets. The orgasm tore through him in waves, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving him breathless, shaking.
Thomas stilled, watching him, drinking in the sight. He dragged his fingers through the mess on Simon’s stomach, rubbing it between his fingers before bringing it to his lips, tasting him.
Thomas smirked. “That,” he murmured, dragging his lips lazily over Simon’s thigh, licking up a few drops of semen “was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Simon swallowed hard, his body still thrumming with aftershocks. “I think you just killed me.” He was still gasping for breath when Thomas shifted beside him.
Their eyes met.
A silent challenge.
Simon swallowed, his senses still drunk on the moment, on the scent of sweat, sex, and Thomas. He licked his lips, shifting onto his side, his fingers trailing down Thomas’ body—over the hard lines of his stomach, the dip of his hipbone, until he wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock. Something about this night, about how Thomas had completely wrecked him, made Simon want to return the favour. He wanted to make Thomas feel the same way, wanted to give as much as he had received.
It was big, heavy in his palm, burning hot against his skin. Thomas inhaled sharply as Simon stroked him, slow and uncertain at first but growing bolder with each breath.
Then, with only a brief hesitation, he dipped his head and took him into his mouth.
The weight, the heat, the sheer size—it was overwhelming at first. His lips stretched around him, his tongue pressing against the underside, learning what made Thomas groan, what made his stomach clench. Thomas wasn’t guiding him—he wasn’t taking control. He was letting Simon find his rhythm, letting him learn, and that trust, that silence between them, was almost as intoxicating as the act itself.
Simon’s own arousal stirred again, his body waking up as he lost himself in it. The sounds Thomas made—the sharp inhales, the deep, breathy moans—sent a pulse of heat straight to his core. Simon grabbed his own cock and started jerking himself off. Thomas’ fingers tangled in Simon’s messy curls, his grip tightening as Simon grew more confident, his lips working faster, his tongue teasing more deliberately.
Then, with a sharp breath, Thomas pulled back slightly, stroking himself once, twice—
And on the third, he let go.
Simon barely had time to react before the heat of it hit his face—thick and warm, streaking across his cheek, his lips, dripping down his chin.
For a second, he was frozen, his breath caught in his throat. Then, instinct took over. He swiped his tongue over his lips, tasting him, and something about it—something filthy, something raw—sent another wave of arousal crashing over him, made him come again.
Thomas chuckled, breathless. He reached out, thumb tracing a stray drop from Simon’s chin before pulling him in for a kiss—deep, messy, tasting himself on Simon’s tongue. The kiss was raw, unexpected, and it left them both lightheaded.
A dark promise lingered between them.
“We’re doing that again.”
