This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences. If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site. If you enjoy Nifty, please donate!
-------------------------------------------------- Tom Holland and I - Chapter 3 --------------------------------------------------
Having taken many trips from the airport to the house, I didn't require the GPS. Tom fiddled with the radio before scooting down in his seat, propping one leg up and connecting his phone to the speakers. He put on some Anita Baker, which made me chuckle, as it was definitely an effort to lift my spirits. She was my mom's favorite singer and I couldn't recall how many times Ami, Rutger, Ollie and I woke up to her voice on the weekends. It was usually an indicator that we were about to spend the entire day cleaning, but at least it was good music.
Tom was zoned out, staring out of the tinted passenger window in silence. I was focused on the road but my gaze was drawn as he suddenly squirmed in the seat, his hand moving to his crotch. I spared a second glance and noticed his shorts were starting to fill out in the pouch. "Thinking about last night?" I mused.
"What?" When I gestured at his growing dick, he chuckled. "Yeah. I mean, I keep thinking about it." Tom's fingers unconsciously dipped into the leg of his shorts and toward his hole. I had to catch myself and turn my eyes back to the road. And, it was a good thing that I did. Up ahead, I could see traffic at a standstill. I sighed as we came to a stop, taking a quick moment to check traffic on my phone.
"Oh, this is bad," I told Tom. "It's down to one lane ahead. Some kind of construction."
"Can we get to the A316 from here?"
I shook my head and sat back. "No, it'd take longer just to get to it and then make the drive. Looks like we're stuck." I switched hands on the steering wheel and rested my left on Tom's thigh. "Still wanna do the park later?"
"I think that'd be nice, yeah. Ooh, we can take some snacks. Have a little picnic." I couldn't help but chuckle. We just had breakfast and he was already thinking of the next meal. "We can stop by the shop on the way home," I said. "We don't have much in the pantry right now." Tom nodded in agreement and turned back to the window.
We barely moved for the next five minutes. When we did finally start creeping, it was only for a few seconds before we came to another full stop. I was mindlessly rubbing my thumb back and forth over Tom's skin, annoyed at myself for not checking the traffic before I left the airport. I turned slightly to check my blind spot which caused my hand to bump into Tom's package. As I merged, I heard the tiniest of whimpers escape his mouth.
I decided to leave my hand where it was. My pinkie was nestled right in the spot between his thigh and his bulge and I could feel the heat emanating from him. I moved my little finger ever so slightly and felt goosebumps spread over his skin. He placed his right hand over mine; not to stop me, but to encourage me. Eyes forward, I turned my hand inward. Tom inhaled sharply as my hand crept inside his short shorts. He was still staring out the window, casually checking out the cars next to us as if I wasn't gently caressing his hole on the highway.
This teasing went on for maybe thirty seconds before Tom pulled my hand up to his face, looked me straight in the eye and sucked my middle and ring fingers into his mouth. My eyebrows shot straight up, as did my dick. In a flash of movement, Tom whipped off his seatbelt and yanked the shorts off, never letting my fingers leave his mouth. He then sat back, propping his left foot up on the dash, and guided me back to his pucker. Without hesitation, I slid into him up to the second knuckle. Tom's back arched off the seat, the muscles in his legs tensing. I tore my eyes away from the road to take in the whole scene.
All the blood in his body was in two places: his face and his rigid dick. Where I was markedly thicker, Tom's cock was undeniably longer. I'd say he had at least an inch on me which, on his small frame, looked almost absurdly huge. It tapered perfectly to the pink head, his foreskin now completely pulled back. His balls were perfectly proportional to his cock, fuzzy and low-hanging. Tom, much to my chagrin, preferred to keep everything trimmed. He wasn't hairy to begin with, but he simply refused to let the hair he had grow out.
He had pulled his tank top up to his chest which gave me a full eyeful of his slim stomach. Even when he wasn't sticking to any workout regimen or eating properly, his abs were present, a stray mole here and there. I wanted to run my fingers over his chest, his stomach, every part of him, but I was currently preoccupied. My eyes quickly traced down to his pale thighs to past my buried digits and down his splayed legs, now twitching slightly.
Fuck, I was a lucky man.
Tom once again placed his hand over mine, holding me in place as he adjusted to my digits. When I peeked over, he was smiling ear to ear, his eyes already glossed over with lust. "I'm not gonna last long," he grinned, slowly pushing me further inside his warmth. We both let out a grunt when I bottomed out. "That's probably a good thing," I replied. "Can't pull up to the shop with your dick hanging out."
"Hey, you started this."
"Are you complaining?" Tom started to answer, but stopped short when I curled my fingers. That small movement was enough to short circuit his entire system. He let out a strained, "Ooh," as I brushed against his prostate. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch that," I taunted. "Did you say something?"
"You arseh-uunf."
I repeated the movement, this time with a little more force. I often made the joke that Tom's central nervous system was rooted in his hole. He was incredibly sensitive and, more often than not, he didn't need to even touch himself to cum. If he was being fucked, fingered, rimmed or even touched, he could pop. Just a few minutes into his hole being toyed with and his cock was twitching, bouncing on his exposed stomach.
Tom reached down and reclined the seat which gave him more room to writhe under my manipulations. It also ensured that no one would be able to see him, even though the height of the Range and the darkened windows pretty much had that covered. The traffic started to move a little more briskly, so I unfortunately had to take my eyes off of him. But, not for a second did I stop moving my left hand. I could feel him curling his hips into my hand as he clutched at my bicep, his heavy breathing accentuated by a gasp here or moan there. I was vaguely aware that we had passed whatever traffic issue had slowed us and were now zipping down the highway. Tom had his free arm thrown across his face, completely lost in his own world. I retreated from his warmth slightly. He moved and began to protest, but got nothing out besides a moaning sigh as I added another finger. His left leg moved up even higher, his foot propped against the window.
I turned off the highway and, thankfully, only had a few blocks before we got to the shops. I whipped into the car park and down a level to the most remote parking spot I could find. I threw the car into park which caused Tom to open his eyes. He emerged from his daze, a blush reaching his face. "I can't believe we just did that," he grinned.
"I thought you weren't going to last long," I teased, slowly withdrawing. Tom whimpered as I leaned over and propped myself over his panting body. I gently kissed his chest, his neck and finally his lips. "Mm, I didn't think I would. I mean, I was pretty close."
"Good to know."
I sneakily reached between his legs with my right hand and buried three fingers in his slick hole. Tom's expression changed instantly from amused to an almost animalistic lust. He moaned loudly, gripping my shoulder as I worked him over. He had lost all control of his volume and, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if someone in the car park could hear him. I spared a second to glance out the back to make sure we weren't drawing any undue attention. Luckily, we were alone for the moment.
Tom's hands found my face, pulling my attention back to him. His brow was furrowed, his dark eyes locked onto mine, his jaw slack. It was only a few seconds more before I got my first tell that he was on the edge. His eyebrows perked up in the center, as if he were suddenly taken by surprise, and his mouth shrank to a tiny circle. The only sound that escaped was a whispered, "Hoo..." I didn't even have to look. I knew his cock was impossibly harder than it was before and his boys were drawing up closer to his body. His toes were curling in his sneakers. The flush from his cheeks spread down through his neck.
I curled my fingers one more time and pushed him over the line.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Tom's hole clenched around my fingers as he finally came with a strained groan. His body curled and shuddered as he burst, the first couple of shots landing right above his belly button. I slowed my assault on his prostate as he jerked a few more times, his load pooling on his torso, but I didn't pull out. Tom was panting, a twitch shooting through him every few seconds. He had been embarrassed by his little spasms when we first started dating, but I had always thought they were cute.
As he came down from his orgasm and his twitches slowed, he let his hands fall, arms extended over his head. "Oh... fuck, that was hot." He chuckled and let his head loll to the side.
"We're not done yet," I smirked.
Tom opened his mouth to object, but lost the ability to speak as I pressed my fingers against his button. His back arched like he had been electrocuted and one hand grasped the back of my neck. I dove in, latching onto his nipple and biting gently. Tom let out a passionate yell before he regained his mental faculties. "Bash, Bash, please. Please, babe, FUCK. Don't, don't, don't!" I let go of his chest and slowed my hand.
"You want me to stop? Just tell me."
He let out a frustrated sigh. "I... no..."
"Okay, then."
With nothing else said, I resumed. Tom could do nothing but heave and squirm as I barraged his senses. It would take thirty seconds, maybe less. I snaked my arm under him and began lightly running my nails across his skin. That was all it took.
Tom's second orgasm was twice as intense as the first, as it always was. His fingers dug into my back as he shot again. I felt a string of cum hit my cheek, further than he had shot two minutes prior. I turned my eyes to see Tom biting his fist, face scrunched up as he was wracked with pleasure. From behind me, I heard a sharp crack, but I was too focused on Tom to see what it was. I saw the tension start to drain from him as he came down and the twitches began anew. This time, he was so out of breath that each one was punctuated by a tiny, "ha".
I finally slid my fingers out of his hole and kissed him, spasms and all. Tom laughed breathlessly. "Fuck, I-ha... I hate it when you-ha... do that."
"No, you don't."
"No, I-ha... really don't." He pressed his lips to mine as the spasms subsided. "Can you get me a rag or something out the back? I can't go into the shop like this."
"Yup. Be right back." I moved to open the door, then turned around. "Did you hear that sound, by the way? What was that?" Tom cringed and pointed at the air conditioning vent by his foot that was now in multiple pieces. "Of course you break MY car," I sighed, hopping out and popping the back.
"That I paid for," he shot back, laughing. I poked my head in the door. "I told you not to get me a car and you did anyway. This is your fault."
"Can you get the rag, please? I'm dripping all over YOUR seat."
I ignored his jibe and peeked the back, grabbing what Tom called the `Go Bag'. Meant for emergency situations, it held clothes, travel toiletries and the like. I tossed Tom a small towel and a random tee. I waited by the back as Tom got cleaned up and dressed, then joined me. Right before we walked in, he yanked me back by my arm. "Tom, what-,"
He reached up and wiped my cheek, bursting into laughter. "Had a little bit of spunk on your cheek, babe." I was mortified.
Tom led the way through the shop, alternating between leaning on me with his hand in mine and skirting around corners so quickly that I lost track of him. Whenever I eventually found him, he had a snack in each hand and a focused stare on his face as he weighed the options. Within minutes, we managed to compile a pretty fair charcuterie assortment. Prosciutto, a couple of cheeses, cornichons, olives, some dried fruit, toast squares and jam. We grabbed a couple of simple meals to tide us over for the remainder of the week since we'd soon be flying back to L.A.
I trailed behind Tom as we left and loaded the car. There was no particular impetus or reason for it, but I wanted to look at him. He was chatting about a couple of things we needed to do before we left the house for a few months, more to himself than to me. I agreed with him at certain moments and made the appropriate responses. But, I was simply... staring. Adoring. The way he walked, his excitable gestures, the tenor of his voice, his lopsided grin that was now directed at me.
"What?" he asked slowly.
"I can't just stare at you?"
Tom finished loading the bags into the car and stepped up to me, placing his chin on my chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled. "Whatcha thinking?"
"I'm thinking you broke my air vent."
He uttered a sound of disgust as he shoved me away. "Get in the car, you jerk." I laughed as we climbed in and headed home, pulling into the garage. It was a flurry of activity as I headed into the kitchen to set up our picnic items and Tom made his way upstairs to start grabbing laundry. In the midst of it all, Tessa weaving in and out of our legs after being left alone for oh so very long. I will say that she did prove useful in snatching up a couple of socks that he dropped, even though he had to wrestle them from her. "Ah, babe! We almost didn't check!" he yelled from the living room.
"Check what?"
"The package! From your mum and dad!" I heard him open the front door and let out a whoop. "It's here!" I was tossing some of the leftover snacks into the fridge as he came around the corner carrying a decent sized box and set it on the island. Before he could ask, I passed him the scissors, then bit off half a cornichon. Tom quickly sliced the tape on the top of the box, paused to turn it around, plucked the remaining half of the cornichon out of my hand, threw it in his mouth and resumed cutting. I just stared.
"Oh, there's three boxes in here," he said, tilting his head. "One for me, one for you and one for Tessa!" At the mention of her name, Tessa came trotting around the corner. Tom set the box on the floor and sat cross legged as she sniffed wildly. "Let's see what Grandma and Grandpa got you!" he chirped in his `dog' voice. I pulled my phone out and started a video knowing that my parents would love it. As soon as he took the lid off, Tessa got excited. Her tail started whipping back and forth and she kept bouncing on her front paws as Tom started emptying the contents. The box had everything a dog could get excited about: a couple heavy duty toys, some bags of treats and, to top it all off, a onesie. While Tessa started thrashing one of the stuffed animals, Tom turned to me holding up the onesie with the utmost excitement on his face. "It's Spider-Gwen," he whispered. "Oh, my gosh. Tessa! Come here!"
His sudden movement sent her into play mode and she took off, stuffed animal still in her mouth. From the kitchen, I could hear her bouncing off the couch and scrambling to protect her newfound bounty from Tom. He chased her through the kitchen, up the stairs and, from the sounds of it, through both bedrooms. "Fine!" he yelled as he came down the stairs, puffing from the exertion. "I didn't get it on you this time, but I will eventually!" He plopped onto one of the barstools and I slid his box over to him.
Tom tore into it like a kid on Christmas. On top, a set of sweatpants and hoodie from the college my mom taught at. Despite it being late May and almost seventy degrees, he pulled the sweatshirt over his head before he continued. I snapped a quick picture. He then grabbed what looked like a mailing tube and fidgeted with one end until he worked it open, sliding the rolled-up paper out very carefully. He flattened it out and barked out a laugh, turning it so I could see. It was a fake royal portrait complete with the ruff collar, but instead of a human face, it was Tessa. My parents very clearly understood Tom's sense of humor and his love for his dog. Which was then made painfully apparent by the four pairs of socks in varying colors and the drink tumbler with her face on them. And the t-shirt with her face on the front framed by the words, "Ask Me About My Dog".
"You are only allowed to wear ONE piece of Tessa clothing at a time," I said quickly. Tom stuck his tongue out and dove back into the box, emerging with a full Spider-Man onesie. "Oh... my... god. Look, babe! It has a bum flap and everything!"
I was going to commit parricide.
"Well, go on," Tom prodded, handing me the scissors. "Open yours."
"I'm almost scared to."
My trepidation was validated as soon as I opened it. As with Tom, my parents had gotten me a custom shirt. The two main differences were that mine was a tank top and, instead of Tessa's face, it was Tom's surrounded by the words, "Ask Me About My Boyfriend." As Tom absolutely lost his mind across the counter, I set aside the socks with his face, the drink tumbler with his face and, the cherry on top of my emotional trauma, the pack of briefs with his face on the seat. I was being trolled by my own parents and it was obnoxious.
Underneath all the Tom was my very own onesie, all black save for the Venom white spider across the chest. Actually, as one of my favorite comic characters, it was pretty cool. It was topped a hood with eyes stitched into it and giant stuffed teeth lining the rim. I wasn't quite willing to forgive them just yet, but it was a fair start.
The last item in the box was a covered in a protective paper which I pulled aside to reveal a gorgeous, red leather-bound book. It was much wider than your typical novel, but much thinner. There was a small, handwritten note stuck to the cover that read, "For both of you." I ushered Tom over, smacked him in his stomach for still laughing, and opened the book. I immediately forgave them.
The book was actually a photo album. Lining its pages were what looked like every single picture of Tom and I that I ever had sent them. Under each photo was a simple handwritten caption such as "Date Night" and "On Set in Berlin". The handwriting changed back and forth, so I assumed both Mom and Dad had taken turns adding things to it. Skipping a few pages was like jumping forward in time. My hair was longer, Tom was more built, Tessa was bigger. I was truly speechless.
Tom put his arms around my stomach, snapping me out of my reverie. "Let's take it to the park with us," he suggested. "That way we can really look through it." I nodded and closed it, still overwhelmed by the unanticipated rush of emotions. Tom hugged me for a big longer, his face pressed against my back, then gave me a little squeeze. "How about you get changed and I'll finish packing up? Okay?" He ushered me off with a little pat on the butt and I headed upstairs.
It wasn't so much that I was surprised by my parents' thoughtfulness. In fact, I was accustomed to their random displays of love and support. Rather, I wasn't able to process the timespan of my relationship with Tom laid out so succinctly in front of me. As Tom and I led such uncommon lives, bouncing from location to location to film, having homes in two different countries, being essentially closeted until recently, it didn't seem like we had been together for almost four years. Of course, none of that was a bad thing. I suppose I... hadn't truly realized it. And, it was, amongst other things, wonderful.
I quickly switched into a tank top, traded out my socks and boots for a pair of leather sandals, brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back down. By the time I returned downstairs, Tom had the entire park setup packed and Tessa in her harness. She was already standing by the door, knowing full well that the harness meant she was going somewhere. I double checked the bag, then opened the door to the garage. Tessa sprung into the back seat, I handed Tom the bag and we were off. It was only a three minute drive and we could've walked, but Tessa was going to wear herself out and subsequently, as she had so often, refuse to walk home. The neighbors had all seen Tom or myself carrying her down the sidewalk more often than I'd care to admit.
Once the door opened, Tessa took off onto the grass, making four wide laps before returning to us, panting and expectant. I took the bag from Tom who, just as Tessa had, took off running. Of course she was faster overall, but he zigged and zagged to stay one step ahead. Tessa stayed right behind him no matter where he went. I took a quick video of their shenanigans and posted it to my Instagram story as I walked casually toward our usual spot. I laid out the blanket as they played, making sure to fill Tessa's collapsible bowl with water.
Within fifteen minutes, Tom was winded and joined me on the blanket, kicking off his shoes and socks. Tessa made straight for her bowl, then made herself comfortable in the shade. I set my sandals by Tom's sneakers and pulled out the photo album as he pulled out all of the food and set it between us. We slowly flipped through the pages and reminisced. The first few pages were mostly group shots on sets. Every now and again, there would be a picture of just Tom and I, usually off set or in a car most likely driving somewhere out of public view. There were the expected familiar faces: Robert Downey Jr., Zendaya, Marisa Tomei, Jacob Batalon, Samuel L. Jackson, Cobie Smulders, Jon Watts and so on. As the pages went on, the picture dynamic started to change. Most of the pictures were only the two of us, most of them selfies in landmark locations with Tom in `disguise' aka a hat and sunglasses. There were some suits from premieres and behind the scenes shots taken at talk shows. A couple more pages and there were pictures of us with my family, pictures with Tom's family and lots of pictures at home and with Tessa. The last photo made me chuckle. It was a clipping from whatever celebrity magazine of a photo taken the day Tom and I first went public. We were hand in hand, a small bag of groceries over my shoulder, walking down the street. Tom was obviously mid-sentence, smiling at me as he talked. As I recall, he was sucking up to me because he wanted to stop and get frozen yogurt on the way home despite us having dessert in the bag I was carrying.
We ended up getting frozen yogurt.
There were plenty of pages after that, all blank save a single sticky note. On it, written in my mother's impossibly neat and tiny writing, "Boys, may you fill this and many other albums with future memories." Under it, my dad's less than tidy handwriting: "What she said."
I closed the album and sighed contentedly. Tom slipped it back into the bag, then leaned across the blanket and kissed me gently. "I love you," he smiled. "And, I love your parents. We'll have to put something together for them when we get back to L.A."
"I love you, too, babe."
Tom sat back and popped a couple of the food lids, shimmying a little in excitement. He snacked a little bit before looking up at me curiously. "Bash, are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine," I smiled, popping a cheese cube in my mouth. "I was just thinking that this is the first year we're going to have an anniversary where we can actually... DO something. Celebrate. Go to dinner or something of the sort. I suppose I never really thought about all the `regular' things we missed out on." He mused over a bit of prosciutto for a moment before responding. "I don't think we've missed out really. We had to do stuff a little differently, but we got to have fun. Besides, we can do all that now. Look at us! We're in the park together and it's totally normal!" As usual, his words brought a smile to my face. "As for our anniversary, do you WANT to do something?" Before now, we had usually ordered takeout or cooked, spent the day on the couch, had a few drinks, then fucked like animals until we fell asleep. Deviating from that seemed foreign and strange.
"I guess having dinner out would be nice."
"Dinner would be nice. Ooh, we could go to Disney!"
I made a face. "That... might be a lot, Tom. You'd be dealing with a lot of fans."
He pouted. "But, we've never been together." I could tell by his tone of voice that he was going to chip away at me about this until he got his way. But, I wouldn't give up easily. "Let's talk about it when we get back."
We batted a few more ideas around before fading into our own worlds. I lay on my stomach and work on some mockups for future projects, eventually pulling my shirt off so I could catch a bit of sun. Tom ended up perpendicular to me with one leg strewn over my lower back. His phone was in his hand, so I'm sure he was either responding to emails or playing games. Tessa cuddled up next to him, eyes darting between the food and passersby. I was so engrossed in my work that, before I knew it, an hour had gone past. I looked over my shoulder to find Tom out cold, Tessa's sleeping head on his shoulder. I snagged a quick selfie, knowing it would make a perfect addition to the photo album.
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