He climbs onto the bed. I follow, bracing him under me, my lips crashing into his. I'm tasting myself, and I couldn't care less because I'm also tasting him.Us.
We make out for a solid few minutes, his body writhing underneath me as my hands roam up and down, along every peak, valley, and ridge, taking my time to appreciate every single curve and extra layer of padding he's packing.
I grab his meaty pecs, shuffle on my knees up his body, and place my dick in between the folds. His eyes widen in surprise. I'm unsure whether that's a good or bad sign.
"This okay?" I ask.
"It's so fucking okay. I just never—I didn't even know…" His hands land on my ass cheeks, and he looks up with the kind of devilish grin I can see myself getting very used to. "Fuck my tits, Anson."
Keeping his pecs in place, I begin to rock my hips, the friction of my salvia-slicked meat heavenly as it slides between his smooth skin.
"This is so hot," he says, lifting his head to stare at what's happening. "I didn't think this was even possible."
He's so transfixed by it I don't think he's even aware of how hard he's digging his fingers into my globes. I don't mind. The pain of that mingles with the pleasure my cock is producing, the competing sensations combining to create a current of pleasure that flows throughout my entire body.
I only stop fucking his tits when I get too dangerously close to the edge again.
"Keep going," he pleads as I get off. "I want you to come like that."
"Next time, baby," I say, loving the feel of that word on my lips. I open my bedside drawer and pull out lube and an unused box of condoms.
"We don't need those," Jarvis says when he sees them. "I'm on PrEP."
He explains what that is since I'm not familiar with it. I reveal I haven't slept with anyone for years, and he assures me that's all the more reason to ditch the rubbers.
"Are you sure?"
"I am. I want to feel you raw inside me, Anson."
"I want that, too." More than anything.
We make out some more, tumbling around on the bed, our bodies entangled, sweating, grunting, reveling in the incredibleenergy we're creating. How can something that feels this good be wrong?
I roll us over so Jarvis is on his back, then I lift his legs into the air, resting his calves against my shoulders as I pour a healthy amount of lube onto my hand then spread it over my erection. I can't remember the last time I was this hard.
"Holy fucking shit," he cries out as I slide my index finger into his hole. "You have the best fingers in the world."
Heat floods my chest, incapacitating me from replying because all my brain can come up with is,But it's just a finger, and that's way too cheesy to say out loud. For some reason, his body responds to my touch. Who am I to question that?
I take my time, studying him closely as I add another finger. Then another, gently stroking myself the entire time. Confident he's ready, I line up my body against his. The heat coming off him is incredible, and as I slowly sink into him, the temperature only intensifies, encasing me in warmth and a sense of safety I've never experienced before.
I'm so used to being the provider for others—a husband, a father, a boss, the breadwinner—that it catches me completely off guard how sliding into Jarvis's body can fill me with a feeling that's been missing my whole life. Guess even the strongest, most powerful men need to be tended to every once in a while.
"How are you doing, baby?" I ask once I'm fully seated in him.
"So good." He looks up at me, his blue eyes shimmering like sunlight on water. "And I'mready."
I smirk at the neediness in his tone, my hair flopping down over my face as I grab his meaty pecs and knead them, thrusting into him, starting off slow, watching for any signs of pain and discomfort. Finding none, I rock my hips faster and faster until I'm fucking Jarvis so hard the bed is banging against the wall and his solid body is shaking and jiggling in all the right places.
I've always preferred women who were full-bodied, and I guess that extends to my taste in men, too. Well, there you go. I just learned something new about myself.
The visual spectacle reaches a new pinnacle when he grabs his dick and starts jerking himself off. Pleasure is written all over his flushed face. He whimpers as I mercilessly ramp up my fucking, and when I next glance down, his release is spraying out of his cock.
"That's it, baby. Come for me," I urge in a rushed whisper, slowing down but keeping my rhythm consistent.
He pants through the aftershocks of his orgasm then shakes his head and lets out a loud "Woo-hoo!"
I smile in satisfaction. I don't even need to come. I already got my reward.