Efrain and Cory 12
Author’s note -- It’s taken a bit longer to get out chapter 12. I let a couple friends know what I’ve been doing and some asked for the link. I suddenly went into some kinda revision frenzy, a close kin those cleaning sprees you do when you have company over. I resubmitted several chapters.
Here’s hoping 13 doesn’t take forever! ~Dayne (dayne.mora@gmail.com)
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Chapter 12 – Dame Esa Leche
“So, do I use ser or estar here?” Efrain asks, one hand taking careful notes, the other under the table teasing the inside of my thigh.
“Ser. ” Usually, I’d ask him some questions to help him figure it out for himself, but I’m too distracted by his hands to be a proper tutor. He gives me a quick thanks and returns to his practice exercises. I try to work on the literature for my advanced Spanish class, but I’ve read the same three sentences over and over without any of it sticking.
The rest of it slides out of my head when his fingers brush against my erection.
It’s pretty damn hard to keep our hands off each other when we study alone. When we camped out on his bed, we ended up fucking. When we took opposite sides of the room, we ended up fucking. When we took it to the couch, we ended up fucking. When we sat on the floor, we ended up fucking.
We’re sitting at Indie’s dining table now, but we will probably end up fucking.
As if to underscore this, his hand unbuttons my pants and his fingers slip under my waistband. His knuckles brush against my shaft and I bite back a moan. All this time, however, he’s still casually writing out his exercises. Well, two can play this game. I slip my hand onto his lap and start fumbling with his zipper.
He pops my fingers with a small, sharp slap and I pull back with a surprised yelp.
“Hey what's this? I thought you wanted to study.” He says this, even though it's his fingers stroking me under the table.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You're the one playing around.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” He runs his thumb over the tip; enough pre-cum beads at my slit to make it slippery as he rubs tight little circles around my head. His fingers wrap around my dick. A little whimpering noise escapes me before I can swallow it back down.
He turns back to his notebook and points to a sentence on the paper. “Did I use the right conjugation here?” His hand lightly squeezes my shaft. My eyes roll back in my head.
“Huh?”
“So, Mr. We-really-need-to-do-homework-this-time-Efrain,” he mocks as his fingers start sliding up and down my dick. “What happened to helping me with my Spanish?”
***
I find Efrain in the dining room, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Cory. Their notebooks, textbooks, and other study paraphernalia spill out across the table.
“Could you stop?” Cory asks.
“Stop what?” he answers.
I clear my throat and both men look up at me. Cory adjusts his glasses nervously. “Do we have any kosher salt left?”
“I think so,” Efrain says. “Did you look in the pantry?” His tone is nonchalant, but for some reason Cory’s clenching his hands and biting his lip. His cheeks look flushed.
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t he be?” Cory squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath.
“If you say so.”
Suddenly, Efrain blinks in surprise before his mouth twists into a smirk. Cory puts his head on the table with a quiet whimper. He quietly moans something that sounds suspiciously like “I’m going to kill you, ‘Rain.”
I’m a little confused, but then I realize that Efrain’s hand is below the table doing I don’t want to know what. Leaving the room now seems like a really good idea.
God, that asshole better wash his hands before he touches my stuff.
***
My attention span is currently occupied with two things – how warm and alive his dick feels in my hand and keeping a straight face. I have no idea what I’m writing on my paper. It only vaguely looks like Spanish.
Indie walks in asking about salt.
I’m about to pull my hand out of Cory’s pants when his cock suddenly quickens. I stroke him and he takes a huge breath as if to calm himself. I stroke him more and his dick pulses against my fingers.
Without warning, Cory cums. He slumps forward to hide his face, but he isn’t able to hide the little noises. I can’t help smiling.
As if sensing what’s going on under the table, Indie backs out of the room, and we’re alone again.
“He’s gone.”
Cory doesn’t lift his head. “I’m seriously going to kill you.”
I lean over and nibble his neck. He starts panting again.
“What is up with you and this sadism shit?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I answer. I press my lips behind his ear and he shivers. “But, I do know that I’m not the only one getting off on it.” I rub his dick with cum-drenched fingers to drive home my point.
He takes a deep breath before sitting back up. “Next thing you know, you’re going to try tying me to the bedposts.”
I crook my finger under his chin and turn him to face to me.
“That can be arranged.”
***
A tingling electric kick runs up my spine at Efrain ’s words, but he kisses me before I can respond. His lips drive away my indignation at being made to cum in front of Indie. It wasn’t a full orgasm, so I’m still just as aroused and the feel of his tongue sliding against mine makes it worse.
With a final squeeze, he slides his hand out of my pants. He whips off his t-shirt and uses it to clean up.
“Come on,” he beckons to me as he stands up and walks out of the dining room. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
I hear Indie knocking around in the kitchen and pray that he doesn’t come out. I’m sure he knew something was up, but I don’t want the front of my jeans confirming his suspicions.
We’re barely on the other side of Efrain’s locked door before he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my cum-soaked trunks and eases those off my hips, along with my jeans. He pushes me toward the bed while pulling up my shirt. I know where this is going, so I take it off.
He tells me to leave on my glasses. It became pretty apparent early on that Efrain is a hardcore meganecon.
I move until the back of my legs hit the bed and I stop. Efrain playfully shoves me and I fall. I scoot back to lay against the pillows and he follows me onto the bed. I watch him crawl on top to sit astride my thighs. I close my eyes as he dips his head to kiss me again.
But the kiss never comes.
I open my eyes to find him staring in the direction of his nightstand. I turn to see what he’s so deep in thought about, but all I see are a couple packs of self-adhering sports bandages. We look back at each other and a wicked smile draws up the corners of his full mouth.
I swallow hard. I know what Efrain’s smiles mean.
He grabs two rolls and quickly pulls them out of the box. He lifts my wrist to his mouth and kisses the sensitive skin just below the heel of my hand. His tongue darts out to trace tendons and veins, his teeth scrape across skin.
He wraps the bandage around my wrist a couple times and it sticks to itself. He then stretches my arm over to the bedpost and uses the rest of the bandage to wrap my wrist and the post together. After he tests the restraints, he uses the second bandage on my other wrist.
Efrain sits back on his heels to admire his handiwork. I can’t help shivering. The soft denim of his jeans brushes against my thighs as I shift nervously.
“Still trying to decide what I’m going to do to you,” he says absently. The tips of his fingers trace the contours of my stomach and chest, raising goosebumps on my skin. He draws circles around my nipples.
“Kiss me.”
“You’re not exactly in a position to issue commands,” he says, but kisses me anyway. His fingertips tease the underside of my arms, from bicep to wrist and back again. They slip down my ribs as he starts moving his mouth down my body. I’m already panting hard by the time his tongue flicks across the ridge of muscle riding over my hipbone.
His knees nudge my legs open so he can kneel between. He tells me to open my legs more and I oblige while he strips off his jeans. I draw up my knees and he eases a pillow under my hips. Thus satisfied with my positioning, he grabs the lube. It dribbles onto his fingers.
“Now the fun begins.” I’m aiming for levity, but my voice shakes a little.
He leans back over me and kisses me hard. His fingers press against my ass. When he speaks, his low voice carries a hard edge.
“The fun began when you told me I couldn’t fuck you until I finished my work.”
***
My finger sinks into him and his back arches so far off the bed that his shoulders and tip toes are the only parts of him still on the mattress.
I work his ass harder, deeper. “You’ve been pretty bossy today,” I murmur in his ear. His panting breaths tickle my ear. “’Focus on your work.’ ‘Stop playing around.’ ‘Kiss me.’ Any more commands?”
I sit back on my heels between his legs. Even if he did have more commands, he’s too incoherent to issue them now. Everything is locked up in writhing against my hand. Still, I push in a second finger, just to be sure. Cory’s head falls back as he moans. Having him at my mercy is so much wilder than I anticipated and I can’t help wanting to take advantage of the situation.
His muscled arms flex, testing the bonds, but they hold him fast. He’s only been able to maneuver his hands around so he can grip the bedpost. Instead, he squeezes me between his thighs. I roughly shove his knees back apart and finger-blast him even harder. His chest heaves and I worry that he’s going to hyperventilate. Ironically, it’s when I lift and extend his leg straight up and tongue the back of his knee that he starts moaning louder.
I swirl my tongue around before I trail off over the inside of his thigh. I test the length of skin between knee and groin for weak spots to sink my teeth into. I know he doesn’t like when I mark him, but I leave teeth marks and lovebites anyway as I inch closer to his dick. I suck him into my mouth and his body comes up off the bed again. His ass clenches hard like he’s trying to rip off my fingers.
He starts crying, and cursing, and begging in a torrent of random English and Spanish words. I slip my fingers out and lift my head. He whimpers a little at the loss. However, I’m only stopping long enough to reposition to press my cockhead against his hole.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” he whines. I press harder and he starts repeating it, urging me on. The repetitions come faster the harder I press into him. I slip in the tip and pause to give his ass time to accommodate my girth before I start burrowing deeper into his body. His arms pull helplessly against the restraints. Gradually, I slide my full length into him and the chain of yeses breaks off in a long moan.
He lifts his hips to meet my thrusts as I longdick him. But, I have other plans for his ass. I hook my arms under his knees and lift. His feet come up off the bed as I lean forward. I press his knees toward his shoulders, effectively folding his body in half. Then, I plow into his ass hard and fast and he lies trapped under me, unable to do anything except take the pounding abuse.
His arms struggle with the opposing forces of the bindings and havoc I’m wrecking on his hips. I’m half afraid he’s going to break the bedposts or rip his own shoulders out of his sockets, but it’s all drowned out when he starts cumming without either of us touching his cock. The angle I have his body at sends cum flying at his face, where it splats across his glasses. I can’t count the number of times I’ve fantasized about cumming on his glasses, but he clamps down hard on my dick and it suddenly feels like every nerve ending in my body migrated south. I moan loudly and pulse inside him.
It isn’t until my cum floods him that I realize I went in raw.
***
“So, the fuck-a-thon is still going strong,” Mike says.
“And that could’ve been you.” Laurel pats me on the shoulder before taking another swig of her beer.
“God, don’t remind me.”
“You fucking dumbass.”
I had to fess up to the Cory debacle eventually, and they’d been periodically slapping me upside the head for letting the kid get away from me ever since. Neither sees the fact that he is a student, and nearly five years younger besides, as a problem.
The first time I complained about Efrain and Cory, Laurel reminded me how Jameson and I were when she first moved in with us. We fucked like that all the time, and not only had we been living together for a year already, we’d been dating since I was a high school sophomore and she was still in middle school.
We were worse still when we were fighting all the time about everything. She ended up sleeping on Mike’s couch to get away from our screaming matches.
But my behavior when I was too young, dumb, and in love to know better doesn’t make their current behavior any less annoying.
***
Okay, so Cory’s legs really can’t go back that far.
He pulled his hamstring, probably some combination of a hit he took during our most recent game and me trying to put his legs behind his head and plowing into him. Although, it most likely my fault. What can I say, sex with him is infinitely hotter when I’m hurting him.
But he’s now too hurt to move right now – which is why I’m looking for pain pills when Indie starts up on me.
“Aren’t you tired of that guy yet?” he asks me from the doorway. This is out of the blue, but it’s not the reason I’m surprised.
“No,” I answer truthfully. It amazes me that it’s been over three weeks since Cory and I started sleeping together and I’m still not bored with him.
“Pretty long time as far as hook-ups go.”
“You can’t exactly smash-and-dash someone you’re on the same team as,” I say.
“How long do I have to deal with him?”
“Him?” His disdain for Cory is a little confusing. I only got Indie’s side of the story, but I’m pretty sure Cory was the injured party.
“Yeah, him.”
“Get used to him. I’m rather enjoying him.”
“Fuck, you can’t seriously be thinking about dating the guy.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“He’s bi.”
“And?”
“Your boyfriend’s lower half is looser than…”
“Compared to you?” I laugh. “Compared to you nuns are skanks.”
“He jumped me readily enough,” he says then rolls his eyes. “God, he’s probably after you to get back at me.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“No, really. You don’t know how these guys are. Fuck, at least you’re using condoms with the guy.”
I don’t answer.
“Please tell me you’re using condoms with him.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Seriously? Men like him are a walking STD.”
“Cory’s not like that.”
“That’s what I said about Jameson.”
I drag my hand over my face and try to compose myself. This probably counts as the first fight I’ve ever had with my roommate, and I’m trying to not be a dick. Homeboy isn’t making it easy.
“This shit’s about that guy? Fuck that guy, and fuck you. Quit getting your dick bent out of shape because…” I faintly hear Cory’s truck fire up in the driveway. “Shit.”