Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Robbie’s face was still buried in the warm crook of James’s neck, the scent of him—clean sweat, soap, and something uniquely male—filling his senses. The confession hung in the air between them, a fragile, shared secret.
“You’re terrible,” Robbie had mumbled, the words vibrating against James’s skin.
A low chuckle rumbled through James’s chest. He pulled back just enough to cup Robbie’s face, his thumb stroking over Robbie’s kiss-swollen lips. “Yes, I am,” James smirked, his blue eyes dancing. “I am terribly obsessed with you.” He leaned in, capturing Robbie’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss that tasted of promise. When he broke away, his gaze was hot and focused. “And my terrible mind can’t stop thinking of those toys you mentioned. Would you show them to me?”
A fresh wave of heat, part shame and part thrilling exhibitionism, washed over Robbie. This was it. The final layer. He’d shown his body, his desires, his most secret habit. The arsenal he used to navigate his own loneliness felt like the last bastion of his private self. He chewed his lip, watching James’s expectant face. There was no judgment there, only a keen, curious hunger.
“Okay,” Robbie whispered, the word barely audible. He slid off the bed, his legs feeling unsteady. He padded to his side of the room, the domain of mannequin pieces and spools of satin. Kneeling, he reached under the iron frame of his bed and pulled out a small, hard-shell suitcase, its black surface scuffed from use. A combination lock secured the zippers.
James was there in an instant, his presence a solid warmth at Robbie’s back. “Here,” he said, his voice gentle. He lifted the case easily, placing it with a soft thud on the centre of Robbie's tie-dyed bedspread. The act was chivalrous, almost formal, which made the contents all the more lurid.
Robbie knelt on the mattress, his fingers trembling slightly as he spun the dials. The clicks were loud in the quiet room. Right. Left. Right. He took a breath, then pulled the zippers apart.
Inside, the contents were shrouded by a simple beige hand towel. Robbie hesitated, then lifted the towel away.
The first layer was organized, almost clinical. A seven-inch clear silicone dildo gleamed, lying next to a similar clear masturbator, its interior textured ridges visible. A set of three graduated black silicone butt plugs were nestled in a row, from a modest beginner size to one that made James raise an eyebrow. An assortment of silicone cock rings in various colours and thicknesses were arranged beside a large, nearly full bottle of water-based lube.
James whistled softly, leaning closer. “Dang,” he murmured, not with disgust, but with genuine interest. He pointed to the clear dildo. “What do you like about this one?”
Robbie’s voice was a thread. “It’s… familiar. The size is easy. Realistic but not intimidating.” He pointed to the masturbator. “That’s for when I’m lazy. Just want to feel good without much work.”
James nodded as if receiving vital intelligence. His finger hovered over the plugs. “And these?”
“Training,” Robbie said, the word slipping out before he could couch it in something less embarrassing. “You work up. It… it feels good. A different kind of full.”
Carefully, Robbie lifted the foam tray holding the first layer. Beneath it was a second, this one holding electronics. A sleek prostate massager, a simple but powerful vibrator, and an electronic masturbator with a clear sleeve and various pulse settings.
“Noisy,” Robbie explained, a faint smile touching his lips. “But nice on occasion. The vibrations… they’re intense.”
James was utterly absorbed. “I bet.”
Then came the last layer. Robbie lifted the second tray, his heart hammering against his ribs. Here, resting on a bed of black velvet, were three objects that looked like they belonged in a different, more extreme dimension.
The smallest of the three was a thick, veined dildo of deep burgundy silicone. It was substantial, heavy-looking, its girth and length immediately, obviously comparable to James’s own intimidating cock. The next was a fantasy piece, a dragon’s tongue in purple and black, its surface ridged and tapered to a point, wider at the base than any realistic anatomy. The last was a small, closed fist, sculpted in lifelike detail, the knuckles pronounced, the wrist thickening into a manageable base.
Robbie stared at them, his face burning. “These… I don’t use as much.”
“You can take these?” James asked, his voice a mix of incredulity and sheer, unadulterated awe. He wasn’t repulsed. He was impressed.
“I can. The first two,” Robbie admitted, the confession feeling ripped from his core. “But I don’t very often. It’s a whole… production.” He pointed to the burgundy one, avoiding James’s eyes. “This one is good when I have time to prepare. To work up to it.” His finger shifted to the dragon tongue. “This is for when I want to get crazy. Feel… stretched in a way that’s not human.” Finally, he gestured to the fist. “This… this is something I’m hoping to work up to. Someday.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, humiliation cresting over him like a wave. “You must think I’m such a pervert.” He brought his hands up, covering his face, wishing the bed would swallow him whole.
The silence stretched. Robbie waited for the distance to open up between them, for the click of the suitcase, for the end of this beautiful, impossible moment.
Instead, he felt the mattress dip as James moved. Not away. Closer. Then, James’s hands were on his, gently pulling them away from his face. Robbie opened his eyes.
James had slid off the bed and was kneeling on the floor at Robbie’s feet. He looked up, his face solemn, his eyes holding Robbie’s with an intensity that was almost painful.
“Look at me,” James said, his voice rough with emotion. He kept hold of Robbie’s hands, his thumbs stroking the knuckles. “I have been so worried,” he confessed, the words leaving him in a rush. “About the point where you were going to say no to me. And it’s always because of my cock. Always.” He swallowed. “If you can take these…” He glanced at the suitcase, then back at Robbie, his gaze blazing. “Those worries don’t exist. Do you see? You’re not a pervert, Robbie. You’re extraordinary.”
The words landed softly, healing a wound Robbie hadn’t fully known was bleeding. His eyes swam, tears of fear and relief and a joy so sharp it hurt welling up. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he leaned forward, pulling James up by the shoulders and wrapping him in a tight, desperate hug. “Thank you,” he choked out against James’s shoulder. “Thank you for not… for seeing me.”
James held him fiercely, burying his face in Robbie’s hair. “I see you,” he muttered. “I fucking see you.”
When Robbie finally pulled back, a new determination settled in his gut, calm and clear. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and gave James a small, tremulous smile. Then, without a word, he slid from the bed to the floor.
James watched, confused, as Robbie gently pushed his legs apart, settling between them on the soft rug. Robbie’s hands went to the waistband of James’s sweatpants. He looked up, a question in his bright blue eyes.
“Robbie, we don’t have to—” James started, his voice tight.
Robbie said nothing. He just pulled, and James, after a second’s hesitation, obediently lifted his hips. The gray sweats slid down, over his thick thighs, past his knees, to his ankles.
James’s cock sprang free, already half-hard and flushed a deep red. It lay heavy against his inner thigh, a thick vein prominent along its length. A pearl of clear precum gleamed at the tip, connecting to a growing bead hanging by a thread, heading for the floor. The sight was profoundly intimate, powerfully male.
Robbie didn’t hesitate. He didn’t tease or start slow. He leaned forward, opened his mouth, and took James fully into his mouth and down his throat in one smooth, practiced glide.
The head bumped the back of his throat, and he relaxed, letting the thick shaft sink deeper until his nose was buried in the coarse, dark curls at James’s base. He breathed in, the musky, clean scent filling him completely.
Above him, James gasped as if punched. His entire body tensed, his hands flying to clutch at the brightly coloured quilt. “What the fuck…?” he whispered, the sound shredded with shock.
Robbie angled his head, looking up the line of James’s torso to meet his eyes. James’s face was a mask of stunned, overwhelmed pleasure, his mouth agape, his eyes wide.
The visual, the feeling of Robbie’s throat constricting around him, the intense eye contact, the sheer ability to take him so easily—it was too much. A ragged groan tore from James’s chest, long and loud. “Don’t move,” he begged, his voice strangled. “Don’t fucking move or I am going to blow. Christ, Robbie, this is so hot. You’re so hot.”
Robbie held perfectly still, his mouth and throat sheathing James completely. He could feel the frantic pulse in the thick vein, the subtle twitch of James’s cock against his tongue. He applied the gentlest suction, a soft, loving pull that was more about holding than working.
It was enough.
James’s hips gave a minute, involuntary jerk. His back arched off the bed. “Fuck, I’m gonna—!”
The warning was cut off by a guttural cry. James’s cock swelled impossibly harder for a second, then erupted. Robbie felt the first pulse as a deep throb against his tongue, then the hot, salty rush flooding his throat. He kept his eyes locked on James’s, swallowing instinctively, taking every thick, urgent spurt as James came with a force that shook his entire body. His thighs trembled, his abs clenched into rigid stone, his hands fisted in the bedding.
Robbie drank him down, the act of it feeling less like submission and more like a claiming of his own. James collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent, his chest heaving. He stared at the ceiling, dazed, a sheen of sweat on his skin. After a moment, he lifted his head to look down at Robbie, who was still kneeling between his legs, James’s softening cock still snaking into Robbie's throat.
James’s expression was one of pure, shattered awe. “No one,” he panted, “has ever… fuck.” He reached down, his hand shaky, and cupped Robbie’s cheek. His thumb wiped the moisture from Robbie’s eyes. “No one has ever done that. Ever.”
Robbie did his best to smile with James’s dick still in his mouth, the corners of his lips curling upward around the thick shaft. He stayed there, letting his hands roam over James’s body, exploring the dense musculature of his thighs, the coarse texture of the hair on his stomach, tracing the sharp ridges of his hip bones. He found a sensitive spot just below James’s navel, a patch of skin that made him twitch and gasp when Robbie’s fingernails lightly grazed it.
Just as he’d hoped, after a short while, James’s cock started to respond. It began a slow, inevitable thickening against Robbie’s tongue, the softness firming, the blood returning with an insistent pulse. Robbie’s mouth had stayed mostly still, just gently enjoying the warm, heavy feel of it filling his throat. Now that James was beginning to harden again, Robbie wanted to really show him what he could do.
He started by using just his throat, a deliberate, milking constriction that drew a shattered groan from above. Then he pulled back until only the broad head remained between his lips, swirling his tongue around the crown, lapping at the slit already tasting of his own earlier release. He dove back down, swallowing him whole, before pulling off with a wet pop.
“Christ, Robbie,” James choked out, his hands now fisted in Robbie’s hair, not guiding, just holding on.
Robbie wrapped a hand around the base, squeezing firmly, and used his mouth on the top half, his lips a tight ring as he bobbed his head with quick, shallow flicks. He alternated this, swapping between deep throat runs where he let his gag reflex go slack and surrendered to the sheer fullness, and focused hand-and-mouth work that concentrated sensation on the most sensitive parts. He altered the angle of his head, tilting to let James’s cock rub against the roof of his mouth, then shifting to let it slide along his tongue. He removed it completely to kiss the length of it, open-mouthed and worshipful, from base to tip, before plunging back down with a hungry, guttural sound.
James started with breathless disbelief, muttering “fuck” and “how” between ragged gasps. This shifted into raw encouragement, his voice cracking as he urged, “Yeah, just like that, don’t stop, oh god, your mouth.” Soon, words failed him entirely. He became a mindless, wordless being of pure sensation, his body arching, his thighs trembling, his curses dissolving into long, guttural moans that seemed ripped from his core. His hips began to piston in shallow, helpless thrusts, meeting Robbie’s rhythm.
Robbie felt the tension coiling, a telltale tightening in James’s balls against his chin. He redoubled his efforts, one hand cupping and gently squeezing, the other bracing himself on James’s heaving stomach. He took him as deep as he could and held, his throat fluttering wildly, and that was all it took.
James’s orgasm wasn’t a release; it was an annihilation. A loud, shuddering cry tore from his throat, raw and unvarnished. His back bowed clear off the bed, every muscle standing in sharp relief as he erupted into Robbie’s waiting mouth. This climax was even more intense than the first, a prolonged, pulsing flood that Robbie drank down greedily, his own neglected cock aching between his legs. James collapsed back onto Robbie’s bed, utterly spent, his chest slick with sweat, his breath coming in broken hitches.
After a moment, he weakly tugged Robbie up by the arm. Robbie happily obeyed, crawling up the length of his body and curling into James’s side, his head on the damp, hairy chest. He was so incredibly pleased with his first real blow job, a quiet, buzzing euphoria filling him. He silently thanked his silicone toys for all the preparation for this moment.
James’s arm wrapped around him, heavy and secure. He started to speak, his voice wrecked and dry. “Are… are you…” He cleared his throat, a rough sound. “Ugh… Are you seriously,” he panted, “telling me that was your first blow job? ‘Cos I am not sure I would believe it.” He attempted a chuckle, still recovering.
Robbie nuzzled into him. “It’s my first blow job on a real cock. I have been practising a fuck tonne on my toys,” he whispered.
James barked a laugh that turned into a cough. “I can fucking tell,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “And I was right. You are exceptional. But not just because you can do that. Although that does add, like, another three gold stars to your name.”
“Another three?” Robbie asked playfully, tracing a circle on James’s pec. “So how many do I have now?”
James turned so that his face was close to Robbie’s. His grin was broad and shining, playful and loving. “One million,” he said. “And three.”
Robbie giggled in delight, and James leaned in to capture his mouth, tasting himself and moaning into the kiss. It was deep, languid, sated. When they parted, James’s eyes were dark with a new, focused intensity. “Now, I am going to need you to do something for me,” James said.
“Anything,” Robbie whispered, his contentment deep in his bones.
“I really, and I mean really, need to eat your ass. I need to show you like you showed me. Are you up for that?”
Before he finished his sentence, Robbie was halfway to the bathroom. “Back in ten!” he called, almost skipping through the door and closing it behind him.
James flopped back on the bed, a wide, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. He stared at the ceiling, unable to believe his luck in finding someone like Robbie. He thought about how perfect he was, how he was the person James had been looking for in so many people who all came up short. Robbie was different, he could tell. He wasn’t just tolerating him; he was meeting him, match for match, desire for desire.
Robbie emerged ten minutes later, his skin flushed pink from excitement, a clean, nervous energy coming off him in waves. He stood by the door, naked, letting James look his fill. James walked to him and pulled him into a hug, his cock already responding, hardening against Robbie’s thigh.
“Look at what you do to me, you beautiful boy,” he crooned, his lips against Robbie’s temple. He could smell the clean, subtle scent of sweat and Robbie’s own natural sweetness. “Are you ready to have your mind blown?”
Robbie shivered, nodding against his chest. “Yes.”
James guided Robbie back to the bed with a soft, insistent pressure at the small of his back. “I want you on your knees,” he murmured, his voice gone gravelly with intent. “Right here in the middle. Let me see all of you.”
Robbie complied, his heart hammering against his ribs. The denim sheets were cool against his shins as he settled on all fours, the position feeling both vulnerable and powerfully submissive. He dropped his head, his tousled brown hair falling over his eyes, and let out a shaky breath. The chaotic room—the mannequin legs, the spools of thread, the cowboy boots in the corner—seemed to blur into a soft-edged periphery. All that existed was the weight of James’s gaze on his exposed back, the curve of his ass.
James didn’t rush. He knelt behind Robbie, his own knees spreading wide on the mattress. His hands, warm and rough from work, came to rest on the swell of Robbie’s hips. He simply held him there for a moment, thumbs tracing idle circles on the soft skin. Robbie shivered.
“So beautiful,” James whispered, almost to himself. Then he leaned forward, placing a single, reverent kiss at the base of Robbie’s spine.
James poured every scrap of his history into the next moments. That first fumbling, secret time with a girl in high school, the shocking wet heat of her, the way her hips had bucked against his mouth and a switch had flipped in his brain forever. Then later, the bold, thrilling command from a hookup in a Boise bar bathroom: Eat my ass, cowboy. It had unlocked something raw and hungry in him, a craving for this specific intimacy, this submission that was also a form of worship. He hadn’t been with many men, but he’d learned. He’d practiced. He knew how to reduce a person to shuddering, pleading pieces with just his mouth.
His big hands slid down, his thumbs meeting in the cleft of Robbie’s ass. Gently, he spread him open. The air in the room was cool against Robbie’s most private place, and he flinched, a sharp intake of breath his only sound.
“Easy,” James soothed, his voice a low hum. “Just getting a look at what’s mine.”
He started with kisses. Not on the hole itself, but on the full, pale moons of Robbie’s cheeks. He kissed each one, slow and wet, then dragged his open mouth over the skin, leaving a slick trail. He nipped gently, his teeth grazing the soft flesh, making Robbie jump and gasp. He blew a soft stream of cool air onto Robbie’s exposed hole, watching the muscle pucker and clench in response. One hand left Robbie’s hip to trail through the dark, fine hair that nested around his entrance, teasing the sensitive skin there with a light, scratching touch.
“You feel that?” James murmured, his other hand sliding around to cup Robbie’s balls, his fingers finding Robbie’s small, hard cock. He gave it a slow, firm stroke from root to tip. “You’re doing so good. Just relax for me.”
Robbie groaned, pushing his ass back slightly into James’s face, a silent plea. James smiled against his skin. He kept one hand working Robbie’s cock, a steady, milking rhythm, while the fingers of his other hand returned to Robbie’s hole. He didn’t push in, just circled the tight, furled ring of muscle with a slick, saliva-wet fingertip, mapping the give and resistance.
“That’s it,” James coaxed, feeling the first hint of softening under his touch. “Let me in, baby.”
He replaced his finger with his mouth. He started with light, fluttering kisses around the rim, his tongue tracing the very outer edge. Then he pressed forward, his tongue firm and flat, licking a broad, wet stripe from Robbie’s perineum all the way up to his tailbone. Robbie cried out, his body jolting.
“Fuck, you taste good,” James growled, his voice muffled against Robbie’s skin. He did it again, and again, lapping at him like he was something precious and delicious. “So fucking beautiful back here. Every part of you.”
Both of James’s hands were on Robbie now, one gently squeezing and stroking his cock and balls, the other spreading his cheek wider, holding him open. James’s world narrowed to the feel of Robbie’s hole loosening under his ministrations, to the salty-clean taste of his skin, to the choked, desperate sounds Robbie was making into the sheets.
When he finally zeroed in on the center, it was with deliberate focus. He pressed the flat of his tongue hard against Robbie’s entrance, swirling firmly. Robbie whimpered, his hips pushing back. James grinned, a fierce, possessive thing Robbie couldn’t see. He pointed his tongue and pushed.
The resistance gave way with a soft, wet pop. James speared into him, his tongue sliding into the tight, hot channel. Robbie shouted, a ragged, broken sound, his back arching dramatically. James fucked him with his tongue, slow and deep, in and out, a primal, filthy rhythm. He could feel Robbie’s inner muscles fluttering around the intrusion, trying to clutch at something.
James pulled off with a wet sound, panting. “You like that? You like my tongue in your ass?”
“Yes, god, yes, don’t stop,” Robbie babbled, his words slurred with pleasure.
James dove back in, but this time he sealed his lips around the puckered ring and sucked. He pulled Robbie’s hole into his mouth, sucking hard, puffing the sensitive tissue up, making it swell and bloom. His hands never stopped on Robbie’s cock, the motion becoming faster, more urgent, twisting on the upstroke. The dual sensations—the relentless, wet suction on his ass and the perfect, slick friction on his dick—drove Robbie to the edge with terrifying speed.
“James, I’m gonna—!”
“Come,” James commanded, his voice guttural. “Come on my hand. Do it.”
Robbie’s orgasm ripped through him, violent and convulsive. He screamed into the denim sheets, his body bowing as his cock pulsed thick, hot stripes of cum over James’s fist and onto the bed below. James rode it out with him, sucking and licking through every shuddering aftershock until Robbie collapsed forward, boneless and spent.
James slowly released him, pulling back to look at his work. Robbie’s hole was reddened, glistening, beautifully opened. James looked at his own hand, coated in Robbie’s release. A dark, thrilling idea took hold. He brought his cum-slicked fingers back to Robbie’s entrance.
Robbie felt the warm, sticky pressure and tensed. “W-what are you—?”
James pushed two fingers inside, slick with Robbie’s own cum, feeding it back into him. The filthiness of the act, the sheer taboo of it, sent a fresh, electric jolt through Robbie’s exhausted system. He moaned, long and low, his body arching again. “Oh fuck, that’s… that’s so dirty.”
“Yeah it is,” James grinned, working his fingers slowly in and out, spreading the wetness inside. “And you love it.” He leaned down again, his tongue joining his fingers, licking his own come from Robbie’s stretched hole, then pushing it deeper, tasting their mixed essences. He was making Robbie’s hole a slick, messy ruin, and Robbie was trembling with overstimulated pleasure beneath him.
When James finally pulled back, Robbie was panting, his cock already beginning to twitch back to life against his stomach. James kissed the small of his back. “Turn over for me, baby. Onto your back.”
Robbie moved sluggishly, his limbs like jelly. He rolled over, his eyes glassy and unfocused, streaked with tears from the intensity of his climax. He looked utterly wrecked and more beautiful than James could have imagined. James leaned over him, bracing himself on one arm, his other hand stroking Robbie’s sweaty hair from his forehead.
“You okay?” James asked, his voice impossibly tender.
Robbie nodded, a dazed smile touching his lips. “More than.”
“You ready for me?” James’s gaze was serious, searching Robbie’s face for any hint of doubt.
Robbie’s answer was a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, his swollen, sensitive hole grinding against James’s still-hard cock where it lay against his thigh. “Please.”
James retrieved the large bottle of lube from Robbie’s open suitcase. He poured a generous amount into his palm, warming it before slicking his own thickness, watching Robbie watch him. He poured more over his fingers, and with a gentle, practiced touch, he worked it into Robbie’s already loosened hole, preparing him further. He was pleased, and not a little impressed, to see his own cock standing full and ready again, as if the two previous orgasms had just been a warm-up.
He settled between Robbie’s spread legs, leaning over him, his weight supported on his forearms. He lined up the broad, slick head of his cock with Robbie’s glistening entrance. He paused there, not pushing, just letting Robbie feel the immense pressure.
“Look at me,” James said softly.
Robbie’s bright blue eyes, wide and dark with nervous excitement, found his.
“We’ll go slow,” James promised, his voice a steady anchor. “You tell me, and we stop. Okay?”
Robbie nodded, biting his plump lower lip.
Then James lowered his head and captured one of Robbie’s nipples in his mouth. He sucked it deep, his tongue swirling around the hardened nub, his teeth grazing it with exquisite care. At the same time, his other hand found Robbie’s other nipple, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
The effect was instantaneous. Robbie’s eyes rolled back, a long, throaty groan tearing from him. His mouth fell slack, all his focus diverted to the shocking, electric pleasure radiating from his chest. In that moment of sensory overload, James began to push.
The thick crown of his cock pressed insistently against Robbie’s ring of muscle. There was resistance, a tight, burning stretch, but it gave way easier than James had dared hope, sinking in with a wet, yielding sound. Robbie’s breath hitched, but he didn’t tell him to stop. His hands flew to James’s shoulders, nails digging in.
James kept his mouth on Robbie’s nipple, suckling hard, as he pushed forward another inch, then another. He was halfway in, buried to the hilt in the tight, clenching heat, when he paused, panting. The feeling was sublime, almost painfully intense. He lifted his head to check on Robbie.
“You good? Talk to me.”
Robbie’s answer was not words. With a fierce, desperate grunt, Robbie wrapped his legs around James’s waist and drove his hips upward, sheathing James completely in one sudden, brutal motion.
James cried out, shocked, his body shuddering. He was buried to the balls, fully inside, Robbie’s hot channel gripping him like a fist. He looked down at Robbie’s face, at the mix of pain and triumphant ecstasy there, and let out a disbelieving laugh. “Holy shit. You just… you took it all.”
Robbie’s hands slid from James’s shoulders to his chest, his thumbs finding James’s own nipples. He pinched them, hard, twisting. A bolt of sharp pleasure-pain shot through James, making his cock twitch inside Robbie.
Robbie’s eyes, blazing with a wild need James had never seen, locked onto his. His voice was a raw, animalistic growl. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard, James. Now.”
James was only happy to respond. He pulled back, almost all the way out, feeling the drag of Robbie’s body clinging to him. Then he drove back in, a deep, punishing thrust that knocked the air from Robbie’s lungs. He set a brutal, relentless pace, each slam of his hips meeting Robbie’s upward drive. The bedframe groaned in protest, slamming against the wall in a steady, chaotic rhythm.
“Is this what you wanted?” James grunted, his control shattering. “You want my big fucking cock splitting you open?”
“Yes! God, yes!” Robbie screamed, his head thrashing side to side. His small cock was trapped between their sweat-slicked stomachs, leaking a steady stream of precum with every jarring impact. James shifted his angle slightly, searching, and then Robbie saw stars.
James’s cockhead dragged over a spot inside him that ignited a fireworks display behind his eyes. His whole body convulsed, a wordless, shrieking wail tearing from his throat.
“There it is,” James snarled, a feral grin splitting his face. He aimed for that spot with every punishing thrust, nailing it again and again until Robbie was sobbing, pleading, a broken litany of “yes” and “please” and “right there.”
James felt his own climax building, a tight coil in his gut ready to snap. He grabbed Robbie’s hips, his fingers biting into the soft flesh, and slammed into him with a final, driving force. “Gonna fill you up,” he choked out. “Gonna pump you so full of my come.”
The visual, the filthy promise, the relentless friction sent Robbie careening over the edge a second time. His cock spasmed between them, splashing their stomachs with another weak, intense orgasm that clenched his channel around James like a vice. That final, milking squeeze was all James could take.
He buried himself to the hilt, a ragged shout tearing from his throat as he came. His orgasm felt volcanic, endless, each pulse of seed flooding Robbie’s depths, claiming him in the most primal way. He collapsed forward, bracing his weight on trembling arms, still buried inside as he rode out the last tremors.
For a long time, the only sounds were their heaving breaths and the frantic beat of their hearts slowly calming. James finally softened enough to slip out, a mixture of their spend leaking out onto the sheets beneath Robbie. He rolled to the side, pulling Robbie roughly against him, not caring about the mess. Robbie fit perfectly against his chest, boneless and pliant.
James pressed a kiss to Robbie’s damp temple. “A million and four,” he whispered, his voice rough and spent.
Robbie, already drifting on the edge of exhaustion, managed a soft, questioning sound.
“Gold stars,” James clarified, tightening his arms around him. “You’re at a million and four.”