Hello friends! All that teasing, all those promises... all of Luka's pent-up horniness. Is it finally going to happen? Luka's V-card is on the line, and it might just be time for Xander to put his ass where his big talk has been...
Thank you to everyone who takes the time to email me, I love hearing what you think about the story: feedback always appreciated at alexp336@gmail.com.
Oh, and there's a new story on my site, www.alexpendragon.com, and it's possibly my longest ever - and one of the raunchiest. Ass-play, exhibitionism, toys, cute guys, and hookups galore, and so much cum, all with that "but I thought I was straight?!" slippery slope I know you love as much as I do. It's called "Seven Days to Squirm" and a beta-reader described it as 'classic alexp336'...
Of course, I still love Nifty too, and donations to keep this fine resource running are always appreciated.
Yours, fiendishly, -Alex (aka alexp336) www.alexpendragon.com
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** Xander Shows Me My Prostate - Part 22 **
Anyone watching out of their window in Xander's building would've been treated to the sight of me trying to fasten my shorts around my straining cock. Not that it'd been anything other than a snug fit before I'd tugged them down earlier, but now my crotch was also a mess of precum where he'd been groping at me. I just about managed to tug up the zip, figuring it would be enough to get me into his apartment.
The door was barely shut before he was pressing me against the wall.
"Fuck, you're such a little tease," Xander grunted, one hand seizing my wrist and wrenching it up above my head. Pressing it into the wall as his other fingers tugged at the zipper I'd only just managed to close.
It wasn't like I couldn't break free, if I wanted to, but there was no way I wanted to. Was quite happy, in fact, to be pinned in place as Xander yanked my shorts down; barely stifling a gasp as his hand wrapped around my shaft and tugged me roughly.
His mouth on mine is hungry, almost angry in his eagerness. Tongue pushing between my lips, not so much a kiss as Xander mauling me, and it's all I can do to hold my own, push back, rather than be overwhelmed by his appetite.
I still have a hand free, though, and so I go to work on his shorts. Button fly popping open with a series of sharp tugs, gaping just enough for me to shove my hand inside and feel the thick swell of his cock straining against his briefs. Fingers shaping the length of him, feeling the way Xander levers against my touch as his own strokes threaten to buckle my knees.
I'm remembering what he said, about how he could be rougher with me. More so than he was with Lucy, anyway, and the idea of it is liberating and exciting in about equal measure. A permission of sorts, as I squeeze his dick harder and feel him grunt into my mouth in surprise.
He tugs my arm up, hoisting it higher against the wall, and I have to go up on my toes as he stretches my shoulder. Fingers scrabbling at his clothes, pushing down his shorts and his briefs as best I can, as we grind on each other.
His cock against mine feels incredible, hot and slick. Xander abandoning his grip on my dick, reaching underneath me instead and pulling me in and up to him. Enough that I get the message; wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the couch.
There's nothing graceful about the way he drops me, my ass hitting the cushions as he tugs off his shirt and drops to his knees between my splayed thighs. Hands pushing my legs back further, grip tight behind my knees, as he leans in and runs his tongue along the underside of my shaft.
I wriggle, frustrated. "Now who's the tease?"
Xander chuckles, and then I can't hear a damn thing because there's nothing but white noise, the sound of my blood rushing, as he slides my cock in-between his lips. Hungry and almost aggressively eager, mouth and tongue working on me as I writhe at the flood of sensations.
My hands in his hair, I hold his head in place. Feeling that exquisite tightness of his throat around me, the unbelievable friction around the flare of my tip as I pump that final half-inch in, and out, and in again. His drool running down across my balls, into the crack of my ass, and then it's an inevitability that his fingers find their way there, too. Hands sliding down the backs of my thighs until he's digging both thumbs into my twitching hole.
I wrap my legs around his head, pinning him in place as my hips buck against his face. Like I'm fucking his throat, and the rougher I get, the more insistent, the harder he's working my ass underneath me. Not just pushing his fingers inside, two or three of them, I can't even tell any more, but pulling and stretching at me too. All of the feelings condensing into one swelling, amorphous rush of pleasure as I grunt and hiss through clenched teeth.
When he pulls off me, fighting the press of my heels against him, Xander's face is a wet mess. Precum and drool down his chin, across his cheeks; lips swollen and red. Still grinning, though, eyes wide as he makes long, teasing strokes down my slick length.
"Fuck, look at this dick. You're so fuckin' beautiful, Luka, you know that?"
It's dumb, ridiculous really, but it's the compliment that makes me blush the fiercest. Leaves me glancing away, cutting my eyes so that I don't need to see the expression on his face. "Don't..." I tell him, feeling awkward.
"One way or another, I'm gonna make you see it," he tells me, and there's something new in his voice. Something there along with the thickness of lust and the rasp from where my cock ground against his gullet. Something which almost makes me afraid, Xander sounds so intense.
"I just..." I manage, but the words aren't there and I'm in no fit state to fathom them. Not when he's stroking me like he is, and fingering me like he is, and staring at me with that wild focus.
Chuckling, Xander shakes his head. "Fine. But it'll happen," he insists. Leans over, then, to grab a bottle of lube out of the side table drawer. Drizzles it, glistening and slick, across his fingers, and then reaches out to grab my hand.
It's another weirdly intimate thing, despite the intimate things we've just been doing. His fingers twined with mine, palm to palm.
Turning me, so I'm propped against the arm of the couch, he kneels up alongside me. Facing me now, his fingers finding their way back between my cheeks and then that familiar, slippery feeling of them digging into me. Only this time, when I reach for his cock, I don't stop there with my stroking. Pushing my fingers in-between his legs, past Xander's balls, until I'm tracing around his hole.
"Fast learner," he mutters, then hisses as I slide my forefinger into him. Not fast, not rough, but no pausing either. Not until my knuckle is tight against his skin.
He's tight, clinging. Muscles clamping down on me as I drag my finger almost free and then push it back in deep. Xander's ass pressing into each stroke, and it's almost too easy to add a second digit as his body adjusts.
There's something otherworldly about it, weirdly connected, me fingering him as his hand works my hole at the same time. Like I'm doing it to myself, almost; like it's my muscles that are yielding.
Xander reaches back, behind himself. Slick fingers groping for my own, a grip that lets him slam my hand in deeper. Like he's fucking himself with me, my hand a toy. "Come on, a third," he demands, and I oblige on the out-stroke. Three fingers pushing into his hole, and if he feels the difference, if it's momentarily uncomfortable to be stretched that way, Xander hides it well.
And then he's guiding my hand to my cock, the fingers that were just inside him wrapping around my shaft instead, stroking along it as his hand coils against mine. Like he's showing me how to jack myself, and I don't know where to look, where to stare, either at what he's doing between my legs or at the look of hunger on his face.
"No more teasing," Xander tells me. I nod, mute and wide-eyed.
He turns on the couch, reluctantly letting go of me and leaning forward. Ass hiked up toward me, and it's not like I could stop my hands from reaching out and running down his cheeks, even if I wanted to. Fingertip running down until I'm circling his hole, skin slick and ready.
"Come on, Luka."
Coaxing me, but there's impatience in there too. My body acting on instinct, sitting up behind him and rubbing the dripping head of my cock against his ass.
"If you don't put that in me, I'm gonna do it myself," Xander teases, and it's the amusement in his voice which breaks the bubble of my hesitation. Grinning at him, as he watches me over his shoulder, and pushing my achingly hard dick down until I'm nudging at his entrance.
If I think about it, I'll overthink it. Think myself all the way out of the moment and start worrying; whether I can satisfy him, whether it's enough. And so I just let my hips do what they're straining to do already, and push in toward him.
It's like a hot, tight, velvet grip; like nothing I've ever felt before. His hole close around my bare skin, and just enough friction to make me gasp. Xander's head dropping down onto the cushions, a muffled grunt as I feed myself into him.
"Oh fuck, you feel so good," he hisses, and there's something about the words, the neediness in them, which makes me hurry forward those final inches. Burying myself as deep as I can push, our sweat and lube sheened skin joined as my fingertips dig into his hips. "Holy fuck, Luka."
I want to say something, to tell him how incredible it feels, but there's no part of my brain left for words. As though my head has melted, left to focus on one thing, and one alone: how I can keep experiencing the torrent of sensations that are already threatening to overwhelm me now.
I grunt instead, my hips pulling back a tentative, experimental inch or so. Reluctant to leave the grip of his ass, and yet knowing that what I'm feeling now is only going to get better as I set up a slow rhythm.
"Oh yeah, that's it dude. Keep going..." Xander's head has flopped forward, face buried into the couch cushions; his voice muffled as he encourages me on. The long, tapered expanse of his back stretched out in front of me, and it takes conscious effort to loosen my hold on his hips a little. Fingers relaxing by grudging increments, as I steady myself and try to make each thrust smoother, more effective.
It's hard, though. Excruciatingly hard. Not to just pound away at him, let my body go at the pace it desperately desires. Hammer his cheeks, hear the wet, sweaty slap of my skin on Xander's, and chase the orgasm I'm so needy for.
I know he wouldn't even begrudge it, either. Might laugh at me, tease me about it later; point out the truth, that the lure of his ass was too much for me to resist. But not be disappointed; not knowing it's my first time, and how tightly wound he got me today.
I don't want that, though. Don't want his first time with me - my first time with Xander - to be all about me racing headlong and uncontrolled into my own pleasure. And so I force myself to slow down, even though I want so much to go faster. Try to steady my breathing as best I can, pace myself. Focus on the roll of my hips and the way my stomach tightens as I bottom out in him each time.
And am rewarded when he shudders around me, fingers tightening as Xander levers himself back into me.
"Fuck, you're a natural, dude," he grunts. And I should laugh, should marvel at the fact that being called a natural ass-fucker is a compliment not an insult now, but all I feel instead is a glow of pride that I'm making him feel some way close to how he made me, when our roles were reversed and it was Xander inside me.
He reaches back, underneath his body, and I feel his still-slick fingers squirming around my shaft where I'm stretching him. Fingertips tracing the strained muscle of his entrance, adding a new degree of friction and sensation to what's already close to ruining me. Slyly groping, too, at my balls as I thrust into him, and there's part of me which wants him to reach further back, slide into my well-lubed hole as I plow his.
It'd be too much, though, too soon, and I guess Xander knows that as well. Resisting the temptation to play with my ass, even though I know how much he enjoys it, and focusing instead on rocking in time with my own motions.
I lean forward, chest sweaty against his smooth back, and feel us shift against each other as my hips coil and dig into him. Arms wrapping around his chest, the heat of his body as fierce as my own; the sharp salt tang of his neck as I latch my lips to him, little in mind beyond a need to cling to him, taste him.
There's something mindless about it, now, but in the best possible way. Both of us moving on instinct, our rocking synchronized. A steady climb to what we both know, too, is the inevitable conclusion, neither rushed nor held at bay. Xander's hole squeezing me, his muscles gripping as I drag myself out of him and then, as efficiently as the engines he works on, driving back in until I feel his depths clinging around me.
"Harder," he insists, and I don't deny him. Loosing my body from its self-imposed shackles; the sound of my skin slapping his almost obscene as I pound into him.
Xander reaches back, both hands now, pulling at his cheeks. Spreading himself so that I can punch in as far as I possibly can, kneeling up again so that I can take full advantage of his openness.
It's everything he promised me, his body upturned and submissive, hands tugging at himself so that I can ream him deeper, and yet even that - dizzying as it was at the time - was a pale shadow of the reality of our fucking now. Two-dimensional, mere words compared to the heat and the sweat and the musk of him.
"Come on..." he goads me; even as I recognize the taunt in it, I'm obeying. Some part of my brain reminding me he'd said he wanted rough, aggressive. To be fucked so hard, he saw stars.
I want to give him stars.
I'm leaning into every stroke now, letting my bodyweight work with my muscles as I pound into him. Taking the grunts and breathless gasps from him as evidence I'm doing good, delivering exactly what he wanted from me, and letting it drive me on to more. Xander's hole stretching and pulling around me, his cheeks shuddering as I slap against them and the couch creaks beneath us.
"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." He sounds different now, voice edging on frantic, uncontrolled. That knowing poise I'm so familiar with at this point, all drained away as I slam-fuck him.
But not stopping me. Not moving away, or flinching. Something I can't help but notice, as a growing fist of pleasure builds in my chest and sweat drips onto his back.
I'm going to cum in him, I realize, suddenly. We'd talked about it, flirted about it even. Hell, Xander had loaded up my hole and licked it out of me; there's no reason this should come as any sort of surprise to me now. And yet the idea of it, of fucking him until I creamed his insides, hits me now like a slap.
"Fuck... oh god, close," I manage to stutter out. Feel him pushing back against me, meeting me each time with something near to equal pressure, and it's that eagerness which sends me spiraling. The knowledge that just as much as I want it, Xander wants it too, and all I have to do is let myself coast right over that precipice of no return and let my body do exactly what it's been chasing.
No words, just a long grunt through clenched teeth. My groin feeling like it's trying to twist me inside-out, hunting that extra fraction of an inch deeper into him, and my muscles nearly screaming with the tension as I cum in his hot, slick tightness.
A beat. My head so dizzy, it's almost painful. And then I slump forward, unable to even keep myself upright or so it feels like, my chest draped across his back.
"Holy fuck," I gasp out, vision swimming. Xander's hand reaching for me, fingers tight around the back of my neck, as I suck down lungfuls of air through his sweaty hair.
We're there for a minute, maybe more. My brain losing track of time, until I feel him shifting underneath me. Turning, our damp skin helping some, until I'm framed by his legs. Xander's cheeks flushed, grin lopsided and amused, as he stares up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"You think you're finished?"
It's a challenge, not a question, just like his palm against my chest is an instruction rather than a suggestion. Pushing me upright, first, and then back, until I topple on my ass on the couch.
And yet still he keeps coming, straddling my body on his knees. Stepping up carefully until he's almost sat across my chest, hard cock bobbing urgently in front of me.
It's a front row seat to watching Xander stroke himself, and despite the intimacy, despite the intensity of what we've just done, somehow this feels like another level. A glimpse of what he does on his own, toying with his dick, only holding my gaze as he does it. That knowing grin still, so mesmerizing I hardly realize when he reaches his other hand out and, gently but irresistibly, slips his thumb between my lips.
Mindless, I suckle on it. Tasting lube and sweat, and then feel him pulling down, opening my mouth as though he's checking to see if I brushed my teeth like a good boy. My own hands on some sort of autopilot, palms sliding up the backs of his thighs to his cheeks and feeling them tense as he strokes himself.
"That," he tells me, voice dripping lust, "was so fucking hot. Did you enjoy it?" I nod, my fingertips squirming in toward the soft, slippery flesh of his hole. Xander sucks in a breath as I push into him, then chuckles. It makes his ass flutter around me. "Now, you're gonna let me cum in your mouth, aren't you, dude," he continues, giving me a knowing look.
I could say no. Could close my lips; push him off me. Offer him something different, to spray my face or to fuck me like I just fucked him. Even just shake my head, and trust that Xander wouldn't make me do something he knew I didn't want to.
They're all options, all of them open to me, and so I have to figure that the fact I don't take any of them means I want him to do it. Want him to blow his load all across my tongue.
I push my fingers in further, pulling and stretching at him. Feeling his ass surrender, lube and my cum leaving him slick and pliable. It's a weird angle and I'm not the expert Xander is, but I still aim for that pleasure bump I know can feel so good; am rewarded by the sight of his eyes closing as he groans from deep in his chest.
"Fuck... again, Luka."
It's my name in his mouth, I realize, that's what makes me want to please him. I want to hear him say it in that particular way, heavy with need. Two syllables soaked in desire for me, for the way I'm making him feel now.
"Please..." I whisper, the word awkward around Xander's thumb, but it doesn't seem to matter. Not with my digging fingers, anyway, because he's staring at me now, eyes intense, and his hand making those final, jerky strokes that every guy knows. Brow furrowed as he points the swollen head of his cock down, and I know there's no way he's going to miss me, not from so close, not with my mouth gaping like it is. And so all I can do is keep stroking at his insides and wait for what he's giving me.
"Oh fuck... Luka..."
One final grunt and then I feel him splashing across my tongue. Instantly sliding back, making me gulp as his cum hits the back of my throat, but there's still more to come. The smell of it filling my nostrils as Xander glazes my lips, brushing his tip across them as he smears his cream over my cheeks.
I stare up at him, mouth full. Feeling cum trickle out of the corners and down my face, but unwilling to swallow until he gives me permission.
He squeezes my cheeks instead, chuckling as more of his load escapes me. "You look so slutty, I love it."
I don't know what it says about me, about the way my brain is wired right now, that my cock twitches at hearing him say it.
Xander guides a little of his cum back between my lips with his fingers, then gently nudges my mouth shut with a finger under my chin. I swallow, obediently, as he leans down to kiss me.
"Well aren't you full of surprises."
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