Sidecar (23 page)

“Oh God, yeah, that’s it, a little…
ahhh
…
and now back, and now down…
ooooohh
… a
little further… a little further… oh… oh fuck… a little more… and now… oh, it’s so good coming out… and… oh God… down more… oh Jesus, Joe, you’re
huge
… oh God, feels so good… so good, so… oh, more… want more… oh
crap!
I want
more
, oh my
God
, Joe,
fuck! Fuck! Auuuughhhhhh
….” And there he was, sitting down flush with Joe’s thighs, Joe’s cock completely up inside him, and both of them just held still and shuddered for a moment while Casey got used to his size and his width and… just
him.
And then Casey started to wiggle, to squirm, to vibrate up and down, and it was time for Joe to take charge again.

He sat up abruptly and thrust deep, and Casey stopped talking and gasped, throwing his arms around Joe’s shoulders and clutching him tightly while Joe wound his arms around Casey’s back and held him so tight, he’d have to know he was safe. Casey trembled for a moment and then started moving again, squeaking when Joe bottomed out in his bottom and gasping as Joe slid out. He couldn’t move that fast or that hard in this position, and there wasn’t enough friction that way for either of them to come, but for a moment, it was just heaven to hold him, engulf him, wrap around him as he tangled himself around Joe, and they could keep each other safe, as close as they could possibly be.

But they couldn’t last that long, and when Casey started moving frantically, Joe tightened his arms again and said, “Hey. Stop.”

Casey grew abruptly still, and Joe stood up with him, still joined, and turned around, laying Casey on the bed still impaled on Joe’s flesh.

“Auuuugghh… oh
yes!
” Casey gasped, because this position meant Joe was deeper now, and for a moment his hands scrabbled on the comforter until Joe leaned over and grabbed one hand and put it on Casey’s prick, and then grabbed the other and put it over Casey’s wonderfully responsive nipples.

“We good to go?” Joe asked, out of breath, and Casey begged.

“Please, Joe… oh please… just fuck me… oh God… it’s so good… just—
ohmyGod
,
yes!
Faster! Harder! Oh holy crap,
don’t stop!
”

And it was too much and too good and Joe couldn’t have stopped if the floor had dropped out from under him. His hips pistoned faster and faster, and Casey shuddered and gasped and
screamed
in pleasure, and it was Casey’s scream that did it. Joe roared and fell over, bracing his weight on his hands as he poured himself into Casey’s body as he’d never poured himself into another human being, ever.

As he did so, Casey’s hand jerking on his own cock became more and more frantic, and he gave another scream, this one higher pitched and shrill, and spurted between them, hot and thick white, as his body spasmed around Joe’s. Joe managed to wait until he was done coming to collapse forward, crushing Casey into the mattress for one blissful, awesome moment before rolling over to his side and bringing Casey with him.

His cock was growing flaccid, and it fell out in a gush of come, but Joe was past caring about the mess. This was Casey, here in his arms, and he wasn’t going to lose a precious second of it worrying about his jizz. It wasn’t like he hadn’t lain awake in this room over the past six months, imagining this moment and coming in his hand—the comforter would be okay.

He and Casey lay panting, looking into each other’s eyes, for long moments, and although Joe wasn’t sure what Casey saw, he knew what he saw.

Casey’s almost-bushy eyebrows were arched, because Casey’s eyes were open wide, and they were shiny and happy, fixed on Joe’s face. His neck was still blotched—and now more razor burn than ever made it even blotchier. His mouth was wide and his lips were swollen and he looked truly, thoroughly marked and used, and the fact that Joe’s seed was dripping out of his body and Casey’s seed was coating Joe’s stomach made that look just so much more arousing.

“That was… oh, God, Joe. That was… I honestly didn’t know what the fuss was all about. God. We can do that again, right? Please
tell
me we can do that again!”

Joe’s lips curved up into a slow smile. “Give me fifteen minutes and a washcloth and we can probably do it again tonight. Good enough for you?”

Casey smiled back, unbelievably sexy in the dark of the room. “Yeah, old man—I’ll be impressed as hell if that’s all it takes. But I wouldn’t object.”

Joe pushed Casey’s sweaty hair from his eyes. “I love you, kid. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to make you happy.”

Casey’s grin turned serious. “I love you too, Joe. You know that, right?”

“I do,” Joe said softly. “I do. And I believe it with everything, or we wouldn’t be here.”

The grin returned, but it was luminous and brighter this time. “Good.”

I Just Died in Your Arms

~Casey

J
OE
must have gotten up sometime in the night to let the dogs in. When Casey woke up the next morning, achy and sore in a good way, and stumbled to Joe’s big newly renovated bathroom to pee, they were there, sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed, where Joe had put a big dog bed just for them. He must have added it after Casey left, and Casey approved. Sure, the house would smell more like dog this way, but Casey liked the smell of dog, and he’d always felt bad for them when they were exiled to the kitchen.

He looked around the bathroom appreciatively. Joe had let him choose the paint color, and it was cream, with black trim. Very manly, very understated. Very Joe. The place was big, with an oversized tub with a big showerhead—when Joe had been doing it up, Casey had gone for the big fittings, because he’d wanted Joe to spoil himself a little.

Casey stretched luxuriously like one of the inside cats (who were also asleep on the bed) and thought that Joe had certainly spoiled Casey.

Oh… oh Jesus and the saints above, last night had been… oh crap. Everything. Everything that had been promised about sex, from Dev’s more and more confident adolescent fumblings to the few quickies he’d had between Dev and Robbie and hell, even Robbie—who was decent in bed—they’d all had the promise of that
thing
, that incredible, fantastic, wonderful
thing
that had happened between him and Joe the night before.

Twice.

Oh God. The second time had been slower, sweeter. Joe had rinsed them both off first with the washcloth after making sure it was warm, and he’d paid particular attention to Casey’s nipples, and then his stomach, and then…. Casey shuddered. All points south. Oh yeah.
All
points south. Joe’s tongue had followed the washcloth, and Casey had been unceremoniously flipped over onto his stomach and rimmed until he was squirming on the bed, pounding the mattress with that vague, unfocused, titillated arousal of having Joe’s tongue caress that tender ring of muscle. He’d finally screamed, begging, and Joe had been inside him, his enormous erection so hard and rapacious Casey was pretty sure Joe had been stroking himself while he’d been rimming Casey, and the thought had made Casey’s cock drool without even being touched.

And Joe had proceeded to literally fuck the come out of him, not just pounding into Casey’s ass until Casey
howled
into the pillow in front of him, but manhandling him, making him sit up so Joe could reach around, holding his shoulder or placing a hand on the small of his back or his hips to position him just so. Every time Joe changed positions, held Casey’s slighter body with those big hands and
made
him do what needed to be done, Casey’s arousal ramped just a little bit higher. The second time, when he came, Casey’s vision blacked, exploded into red-and-white stars, and he disappeared, shaking in orgasm for a good two minutes while Joe pushed him into the mattress with a big hand between his shoulder blades and fucked him through his climax, and then came himself.

The second time, Casey wouldn’t let him go get a washcloth.

“No,” he complained when Joe made to roll out of bed. “No. Let it stay.”

“Casey….”

“Yeah, it’s messy. I like it.” He didn’t have more words than that, as he’d lain on his stomach, Joe’s come drying on his thighs and still trickling out of his body, but it had felt… pure. It was sex without fear—not just of disease but of worry. There was no worry about who Casey would be with this person in the morning. This person was Joe, and Joe loved him. Their bodies, slick and sweaty and spent? That was how they were supposed to be together. Casey didn’t want that washed away. He wanted to feel deliciously used and slutty, marked on all parts of him by Josiah Daniels in a way that no one else could be.

Joe had wrapped his arms around Casey then, and they’d slept naked, warmly cocooned under the comforter and cuddled against the elements. Together, they were each other’s world.

Casey woke up a little as he was washing his hands after taking a leak, and he found another washcloth in the rack above the sink. He hadn’t gotten enough, hadn’t had enough time. Joe had been too self-conscious of his own body and too ready to take over Casey’s. Casey wanted to taste him, to suck him until he was crazy with it, until Joe’s come was running down his chin too.

He padded back to the bedroom quietly, warm washcloth in hand, and wriggled under the covers. Before Joe could engulf him in that colossal hug again, Casey kissed his neck, and then his shoulder, and then down to his stomach. He regretted Joe’s thing about the nipples, really, and wondered if maybe they weren’t just hypersensitive. Maybe, when they’d been doing this awhile, Casey would spend some time licking them to see if loving them gently would do something that pinching them didn’t. But right now, he wanted to nuzzle the hair between Joe’s pecs and keep stroking the clearly demarcated path down to Joe’s belly button. Joe started to shift, waking up a little, and Casey felt those big hands on his shoulders.

“Whereyagoin?” Joe’s voice was slurred in sleep.

Casey pulled the warm washcloth out and very gently began cleaning Joe’s flaccid cock—and kind of wished for a ruler. Any guy who claimed to have eight or nine inches had clearly never seen Joe, who really did. The thing was starting to grow in Casey’s hand, emerging from the extravagant nest of black hair at its root, and Casey stopped washing and took the entire thing into his mouth, pretty sure that this was the only time he’d ever be able to accomplish this little feat.

And sure enough, it wasn’t so little. In a moment it had filled his mouth and he had to pull back if he wanted to breathe. He held it in his hand, loving it. For one thing, it was oddly shaped, uncut, and thinner at the base than it was at the end—and the end was
truly
bulbous, but not the crown. The crown was small, like a baby’s fedora perched on a watermelon. He experimented, pulling the foreskin tight around the bulbous end and wiggling his tongue on the ridge of the crown. Joe grunted, and he buried his hand in Casey’s hair, massaging hard, so Casey knew he was doing okay. He popped that adorable little crown in his mouth and tightened his lips, getting the head wet and swirling with his tongue, and Joe’s grunt turned into a full-out moan.

“Grab it,” he muttered. “Hard at the base….”

Casey complied, comfortable with Joe at the wheel even when Casey had his hand on the stick. He stroked hard from the bottom to his mouth, and Joe moaned again. Casey pulled the covers back so there was room to spread out, and Joe did. He propped his feet up and spread his knees
really
wide,
suggestively
wide, and Casey had always been open to that sort of suggestion.

Casey rolled off the bed and repositioned himself at the apex of Joe’s thighs, his washcloth in hand. He took that magnificent cock (oh God, it was so beautiful—he’d seen a few, and this one was
amazing
) in his hand and used the washcloth between Joe’s furry ass-cheeks, making it ready for that thing Joe had done to him the night before and Casey really
wanted
to do now.

He kept stroking, and when he was done with the washcloth, he went to move his head into classic rimming position, only to have Joe stop him with a jerk in his hair.

“Kid, no one needs to floss
that
badly. You were doing just fine with that other thing!”

Casey blinked and laughed and got the joke, and then he dropped Joe’s cock, spread Joe’s cheeks, and dug in. The taste was musky (and a little soapy from the washcloth), but not overwhelming, and the
sounds
Joe made as Casey tongued the little pucker. He was hairy, yeah, but once it was wet, that was no big deal. What
was
the big deal was Joe’s groan and the way his fist tightened on his own cock as Casey licked. Casey came up for air and grinned, and then he left his thumb rubbing circles over the little ring of muscle while he took Joe’s erection in hand, scooting Joe’s hand out of the way as he lowered his head and stretched his mouth over the end. Joe groaned again, and his hips bucked, and his hands clenched in Casey’s hair again. Casey hollowed his cheeks and let some spit leak through to lube his hand so it slid easily on the shaft, and Joe started to pump his hips smoothly.

It worked
awesome!
Joe made the best noises, growls and grunts and groans. His hands in Casey’s hair were tight and controlling but not cruel. Casey groaned, aroused, and kept sucking, kept stroking, feeling the hardness and the veins underneath his palms. Then Joe’s hands weren’t in his hair anymore, and muscles popped on that soft tummy as Joe leaned up and grabbed him by the arms, hauled him up easily, and draped Casey on top of his body. He leaned his head up, and Casey plundered his mouth for a kiss and then ground his erection up against Joe’s, shuddering when the velvet skin of their cocks slid together.

Joe reached down with his big hand and grabbed the two of them together, and Casey braced himself with his knees on the bed to give Joe room. Their hips bucked as Joe let their skin slide together and it felt so good, and Joe was making those growls, grunts, and groans again, that foreskin giving extra slipperiness to everything involved. Suddenly, unbelievably,
Casey
was the one coming, and he buried his face in Joe’s chest and ground out a howl as his come, slippery and hot, coated Joe’s hand.