Hello friends!
Luka knows what he wants. Xander knows what he wants. There's no pesky girlfriend to consider. I think we all know what happens next... boys will be boys, right?
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Yours, with seasonal-cheer, -Alex (aka alexp336) www.alexpendragon.com
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** Xander Shows Me My Prostate - Part 27 **
Xander's hand is on the small of my back as we leave the cafe, and I'm pretty sure the eyes of the guy behind the counter are on us both. Judging by the smirk he gave us when he handed over our drinks, he wasn't exactly struggling to guess what Xander had in mind for me now.
Or, for that matter, what I had in mind for Xander.
"I'm starting to suspect you get off on embarrassing me," I tell him, dryly, as he starts the engine. He chuckles.
"Am I not allowed to want to show you off?"
I hide my grin behind the to-go cup. "Am I being objectified?"
Another laugh, and then he reaches out and gently trails a fingertip down my thigh. "Oh, absolutely."
I grab Xander's hand, and drag it up my leg to rest on my crotch. My dick hadn't gone soft since we were sitting down, which I suspected was another reason the guy at the counter was grinning. Now, I shape Xander's fingers around the swell of it.
"Then at least give me all the benefits," I point out. Wriggle a little, as he paws at me.
"How many of the benefits are we talking about?" Xander asks.
It could just be more of our teasing, our flirting, but I can't help but read more into it. Deeper subtext, given what he's just been telling me. No, correcting me: my paranoia bumping up against reality. The fact that, far from being forced to distance himself, Xander's change of relationship status stands a chance of completely upending who we are to each other.
Assuming, that is, it's what we both want.
I squeeze his hand again. "I think... I want as many as I can have," I tell him, finally. Not quite brave enough to put it all into words, not yet anyhow.
He laughs, but it's a soft sound. A happy one, I'd say. "That can be arranged."
There are times he has to take his hands off me, as we drive over to his place, but Xander's fingers invariably find their way back to my body. Sometimes my thigh, or my arm; somehow, a couple of digits resting on my wrist can seem as intimate as when his hand dips between my legs and palms the length of my cock. Maybe it's anticipation, or maybe I'm just especially horny, but it feels like I've been hard forever.
We get into his hallway and I'm just kicking off my shoes when he takes the cup from my hand. Sets it down, with his, and then he's pulling at my shirt. Stripping it off, over my head, in one swift yank, as I stare at him. Startled by his deft focus, and even more so as he tugs my jeans open.
"Down."
It's just one word but an unmistakable order. Silently, I sit down on the hallway floor, Xander crouching so that he can skin the pants off my legs.
I lift my ass off so he can strip my boxer-briefs off too, suddenly feeling exposed as I sprawl there in front of him.
He slips his finger under my chin, tilting my head up. Eyes tracking down the taut curve of my throat, down my chest, to where my erection is twitching between my splayed thighs. Untouched but desperate.
I expect him to touch me. No, I want him to; want feverishly to feel his hands on my body, his lips pressed against my mouth. Can imagine how he'd smell pressed against me, the scent of him somehow achingly familiar even after such a short time.
Instead it's his hand, sliding down to my chest and pushing. Easing me onto my back, and then gripping me by the shoulders and deftly turning me over.
Xander's fingertips trail softly down the groove of my spine. Tauntingly slow, even as we both know their inevitable destination. I'm fighting the urge to grind my dick into the rug, chasing the friction he's denying me, but instead I rear up, against his fingertip as it brushes across my hole.
"You took instructions so well, in the video," he muses. Tone thoughtful, quiet even against the sound of my own breathing, loud in my ears. "So... obedient."
There's no way I can't picture the way Dan had me spread myself, toy with myself. Pushing fingers into my ass as I stared into the lens, imagining they were Xander's probing digits as my best friend coaxed me into ever-lewder poses.
"Arch your back," he tells me. I pull my knees up, raising my ass as my spine curves.
His slap across my cheek isn't hard, but it's a shock; enough to make me yelp with surprise. "I said arch it."
I do as I'm told, feeling the heat of him crouching behind me. Hear the rustle of fabric, and then see his discarded shirt hit the floor.
"Show me that hole," Xander orders.
Reaching back, I pull on my cheeks. One hand on each, as though I'm presenting myself to him. I can't see myself, not from his perspective, but I can imagine what Xander is looking at now. The most intimate parts of my body as exposed as they can be. Waiting for his next instruction.
It's not a command, though, but his mouth. His tongue, sliding up the crack of my ass as I jolt at the contact. "Stay still," Xander scolds, then licks me again. Long, teasing strokes first, starting at the soft crease behind my balls, then dragging up, mortifyingly slowly, as he laps at my hole.
I can't help myself from pushing back, from leaning into him. Knowing how good the friction could feel, if only he'd give me more.
"Fuck, you look so good like this. So fucking needy." There's an edge to his voice now, a thickness that betrays his lust. Not that I can dwell on it, not when he leans back in and begins tonguing me in earnest.
It's like he wants to push deep into me, and I'm not arguing with it. Rocking on my knees, trying desperately to arch my spine more as I chase the pleasure. Hands pulling on myself even harder now, as though there's a way I can expose myself even more to him.
His thumbs are tugging on my entrance, overwhelming my muscles as he spreads me wider. Alternating between the measured lapping and those digging, focused pushes into me, as I groan and whimper. Cock drooling precum onto the floor.
It's just what he needs to lube his fingers, two of them sliding into me as I cough with surprise. Barely giving me time to get used to it before he's slamming them into my hole, finger-fucking me roughly as his other hand pushes down on the small of my back, pressing me into the rug.
I can feel his bare chest slide against my arm, my back, as his lips brush against my ear. Hand still pumping at me, as the other snakes under my throat until his bicep is squeezed against my Adam's apple. Pinning me in place as he works over my body.
"This is what you want, isn't it." It's not a question, not really, and yet I can't help the breathy grunt of agreement in my throat. I'm trying not to wriggle, but I can't help but squirm when his fingers brush forcefully against that pleasure button and set off fireworks. Xander chuckles. "Ask for another finger."
It takes a second for me to remember how to produce words, how my mouth and my tongue and my brain are meant to collaborate on speech. "Please..." I manage, eventually, "three..."
His arm squeezes a fraction tighter; I gasp at the feeling of being wrapped up by him. If I want to fight it, to twist against it, it's only so that I can feel how well Xander has me pinned.
The third finger grinds into me, my body shuddering at the feeling of stretching around him. Not fast, but not slow either, and Xander not stopping until I can feel his knuckles against my skin.
"Is this what you wanted, when you teased me?" His breath hot against the curve of my ear, as his hand pumps into me. "Tell me, Luka."
I close my eyes, feeling overwhelmed by my own senses. "Y-yes..."
It's true, too, I realize as the confession leaves my lips. Not that I didn't enjoy fucking Xander myself, not that even right now the idea of burying my cock into his tightness isn't mind-blowingly attractive. Only there's something about this, now, this sense of being held in place and my body strummed and played expertly, that makes me want to agree to anything. Whatever it takes, for his hands and his mouth to continue.
"It was so fucking hot, watching you finger-fuck yourself." I can feel him rubbing against me, pressing his own hardness into my hip through his jeans. "How did it feel when you pushed your load into your ass?"
I swallow, throat flexing against the pressure of his bicep. "Wished... it was yours," I admit, face flushing even brighter.
Xander chuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I'm gonna be breeding you tonight, that's a fucking given."
I groan, the noise becoming an urgent hiss as he tugs his fingers up. My back desperately trying to arch, to relieve some of the sudden overwhelming flood of feelings as my hole stretches.
"Did you think this would be how you ended up, when I walked in and found you on your back trying to finger yourself?" There's a teasing edge to his voice, now, as he reminds me of that mortifying moment. "Did you guess that you'd end up wriggling on your belly on the floor, trying to grind your dick into the rug, desperately to get fucked?"
"Please..." It's almost embarrassing, how desperate I sound. Whimper as he pulls all three fingers out of me, fingertips rubbing in rough circles around my entrance, before he slides them back inside.
"I can't lie, Luka, I really fucking love playing with you." There's something close to an admission in his tone, like the feelings he's talking about are beyond Xander's control. "I think about you all the fucking time."
The words are important, I know they are, but my brain is as overloaded right now as my body feels. I have so many questions; so many things I want to know, to ask him. And yet all I can do is lie there and listen.
"It wasn't right, Luka, I was thinking about you more than my girlfriend. Wanting you more." He sounds almost sorry, like it's a confession to be ashamed of. "Y'know how I felt when she said she liked someone else? Relieved. Fucking relieved."
His face is pressed into the side of mine, now. Mouth against my jaw, licking along me.
"I... I..." I try to tell him, to push the words past the hum of arousal that I feel like my whole body is vibrating with. "You... I... you too..."
It's like he hasn't heard me. As though he's locked into his own script, and my mangled attempts at speech aren't even beginning to filter through.
"And we'll talk about it properly, about you and me," Xander continues. Voice so close to my ear, I could almost wonder if it was my own I'm hearing. Just about cutting through the sound of the blood ringing in my head. "Because I know I can't take you for granted. Can't take... us... for granted." He sighs, and I writhe at the way his fingers scissor open in me, stretching me in ways that make me want to rub my dick raw agains the floor. "But first, I need this. And I think you need it too."
I could protest if I wanted to, I know. Just as much as I know that there's absolutely no way I intend to stop him.
I whimper as he tugs his fingers out of me. Sitting up, leaving me sweaty and pliant. I hear the sound of his jeans opening.
"Finger yourself. Show me how I taught you to play with that hole."
Maybe I should be embarrassed, or self-conscious. Instead I reach back with both hands, fingers eagerly searching out my ass. One finger at first, pushing into my slickness and finding myself more than ready for a second, both hands pulling on myself now as I flaunt myself for him.
Xander snorts. "Good, but you can do better than that. I've seen you, Luka."
Grunting, I keep working my ass for him. Pushing my fingers in deeper, fingertips alternating across the swell of my prostate as my back arches instinctively.
"You wanna get fucked, don't you," he asks me, as I pull on myself. I nod, as best I can with my cheek pressed into the rug. "Do you want me to fuck you right here, on the floor?"
The idea of delaying, even by the time it would take to walk through the apartment to his bedroom, is terrible. "Come on," I manage to pant at him. Hear him laugh again.
"Such a little slut for dick." Xander nudges my thighs apart with his foot, then settles down between them on his knees. Leans forward, one hand bracing himself at the base of my spine, and then I feel the thick length of his cock slapping against my ass. "You've got me so wet, but every little helps, right?"
He reaches underneath me, fingers rubbing down my neglected dick and twisting around the tip. Returning that slicked hand to his own hardness, just a couple of strokes and then I feel him pushing at my hole again. My fingers still pulling myself open, body desperate to feel him slide in until there's no gap between us.
At the last minute I pull my hands away, meaning to lift myself so that I can rock onto him. Feel Xander seize my wrists instead, pulling my arms back as though they're reins; back arching with it, as he yanks my ass back onto his cock.
It's a long, shudder of a groan, my body being stretched and impaled in one smooth motion. Xander's hips driving forward to connect us, until I feel his skin brushing my cheeks and the whole, thick length of him filling me inside. Familiar and yet also still shockingly new, that dizzying sense that I'm a sleeve of friction from which he can take pleasure.
"Fuck, you feel good," he mutters, pulling my hands up so that he can suck my fingers into his mouth. Licking them as his body makes exploratory thrusts, pelvis shifting in teasing circles.
It's like I've been frozen mid-dive. Ass hiked up; arms flung back, shoulder blades compressed. My forehead pressed into the rug, rocking as he uses his grip on me to yank me back into each of his strokes.
"More," I manage to gasp out, the word thick and desperate. Hear Xander snort in amusement, too, but he doesn't deny me. The slap of his body against mine growing louder, as he punches his dick inside.
I can feel his sweat landing on my back; know I must be a flushed mess myself. Cock bobbing underneath me, hard and untouched, and though I want to stroke myself I also want this feeling to never, ever stop. This sense of Xander controlling me, using me. My ass, my body, lusted after and prized for its capacity to bring him satisfaction, get him off. As though Luka, the guy who would've told you he was plain at best, unremarkable, has suddenly morphed into something hyper-sexualized and potent.
Something worth wanting.
I know he'll get me off, too. That after this - maybe even right after this - I'll be the one fucking Xander, and feeling him squeeze and flutter around me, and looking into his eyes or tangling my fingers in his hair as I ride him. That just because now, right now, all I can think of is him taking pleasure from me as he sees fit, that doesn't have to define us. What we are to each other.
And that, well, that's a conversation he said we'll have. Eventually. After he's done breeding me.
I'm trying to grip his cock with my hole, feeling the drag of him as he pulls himself almost free - my muscles fighting to keep him in me - and then buries himself in deep again with one long thrust. The flare of his head grinding across my prostate each time, making me whimper and groan as I wriggle against his hold on me. Not wanting to escape, not really, but unable to hold still as he pounds.
I can hear his breathing, the ragged edge that's building with each passing moment. Know, with a rush of pride, that it's me that's making him feel that way; bringing him nearer and nearer to what we both know is coming.
"I'm gonna blow in you, fuck, I'm so fucking close," Xander hisses through clenched teeth. I grunt my approval, words failing me.
It doesn't matter, though. Doesn't matter what I say, what noises I make. The yelps and gasps as his hips shift and some new part of me is stretched and rubbed, no way to predict it, only ride that rising surf of body-shaking sensations. Xander's grip on my wrists tighter still, my back twisting as he yanks me back, and then I feel him freeze. Hear him growl, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest as he swells inside me.
"Fuck... fuck, fuck..." His body is moving again, but the strokes feel different. Cum making me softer, more pliant; amplifying the sensations as his dick rubs me through the mess he's made. Xander's hold on me loosening, my shoulders slumping to the floor, and yet he's not letting me free, not completely. Folding my arms behind my back, one hand pinning my wrists in place as the other strokes at the curve of my butt.
"I know you want to jerk off," he tells me, voice soft. He's still fucking me, hips still moving slowly. "But you have to wait, Luka. It'll feel even better if you wait."
I grunt, frustrated. Not doubting him, not really, and yet my body lacks patience. Is willing to trade the promise of an even better orgasm later for the instant gratification of exploding now.
"Please," I mutter, into the rug. Hear Xander chuckle behind me.
"You're so cute when you beg."
I'm blushing again, even if it's hard to tell given how flushed my body is already, but I don't care. Brain only focused on one thing, and one thing alone: what I can do, say, promise in order for him to let me cum.
"Xander, please..."
He snorts, and then I feel the torturous slide of his cock pulling out of me. Gasp at it. He slaps my ass, gently. "Turn over."
Limbs protesting, muscles complaining, I twist over onto my back. Look up at where Xander is grinning down at me, still on his knees; can't help but bite my lip as he absently pushes a hand back through his unruly hair.
"Now, how should we deal with this," he muses, fingers softly wrapping around my hardness. I groan, frustrated by his teasing, how he's withholding the tight grip I know could get me off in just a few quick strokes. "What do you think, Luka?"
I clench my jaw, hands squeezing into fists at my sides. I could brush Xander's hand away, I know, grab myself and finish the job, but somehow I'm locked into this game with him.
"No suggestions?" he says, smirking. His thumb makes gentle circles around the ultra-sensitive spot just beneath my tip, making me buck at the almost uncomfortable flood of feelings. Fingernails of the other hand tracing feather-light along my inside thigh. That alone would be enough to make me shiver.
After a minute of watching me beg with my eyes, Xander shakes his head, laughing again. Releases my dick - I can't quite hold in the noise of disappointment - and then pushes my legs back, hands sliding up to behind my knees as he folds me over.
"Pull," he instructs, and I grab myself. Feel him shuffle his legs under me, tilting me further and further until I'm balanced on my shoulders on the rug. Ass upturned, and knowing with a spike of anticipation what he has in mind for me.
"Such a messy boy," Xander teases, rubbing his fingertips around my cum-slicked hole. I grunt as he digs them inside me suddenly, twisting them before yanking his hand free again. And then, with a wink, his mouth is on me.
He was teasing before, taunting me with long, slow strokes that had me begging to be fucked. Now, it's like he wants to devour me. Tongue pushing into my little-resisting entrance as his thumbs spread me, leaving me squealing with the rush of feelings, my toes clenching as my legs waver above me.
The head of my cock is brushing against my belly, wet swipes as I shake and twitch. It's good, but it's not enough, and there must still be some part of Xander's brain not focused on eating my ass that realizes it, because his hand snakes around and starts rubbing slimy fingers across me.
There's something very nearly overwhelming about it. Being able to look up, past the angry red of my dick where he's working it, to hold Xander's gaze as he stares back at me. Eyes inky pools, pupils swollen with lust, and his hair in sweaty tangles as his mouth works me.
"Close," I manage to warn him, little more than a squeak, but it's enough. To make him push his tongue that extra fraction of an inch into the hole he just creamed; to make his hand twist on my dick just that bit more urgently. I can feel myself swelling in his grip, breathless as the contortions squeeze my chest. See his amusement, even if half his face is obscured by my body.
Then, suddenly, it's all too much. His mouth, his hand, the knowledge that after he's finished plying my body we'll be talking about something even more terrifying, overwhelming. Gasp, as cum splashes out of my cock and across my waiting face.
There's nowhere for me to go, to turn, and so all I can do is take my own load. Thick across my nose and cheeks, already spilling into my mouth and along my tongue as Xander's hand keeps tugging me.
"Stop... oh god..." My protests are weak, hands releasing my legs so they can flop to the sides. Pulling myself from his mouth in the process, and now I can see the mess he's made, the lower half of Xander's face glistening as he grins back at me.
I feel boneless, a beanbag Luka good for nothing but slumping in a sticky heap on the ground. Too exhausted even to reach up and wipe the cum from my face; already feeling it trickle down me, tickling as it goes. Every nerve ending still fizzing and popping with the aftermath of what we've done. How Xander seems so expert in making me feel.
"Messy, messy boy," he observes, clearly amused. Suddenly I'm trying not to giggle, and failing, and then we're both laughing. Xander sitting down on his ass with a bump, as we sprawl in his narrow hallway and try to catch our breath.
"Your fault," I remind him and he shrugs, unrepentant.
"Complaining?"
I snort, then regret it as cum goes up my nose leaving me coughing and spluttering. By the time I'm done, he seems even more entertained.
"Just planning my revenge," I tell him, glaring. Xander still doesn't seem too concerned by my threats, and I guess I can't blame him. I wouldn't be too intimidated by myself right now, either.
He reaches out; wipes a hand down my face and then smears the mess across my chest. Gives me a look as though I should be thanking him for being so helpful. I roll my eyes instead, and hear him chuckle.
"Anyway, if you've finished taking advantage of me," he suggests, "we should probably talk."
"Taking advantage... of... you?!" I start, rising to the bait. Stop myself.
Priorities, Luka. Priorities.
Nod, instead. Try not to think about how serious things suddenly feel, and how ridiculous that is given I'm dripping with cum from both ends and my muscles still feel like jelly. Because something tells me, out of all the conversations Xander and I have had so far, this one will be by far the most important.
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We're nearing the end of the road for this story, and I'd love to hear what you think so far. Liked it? Hated it? I'm a glutton for feedback (alexp336@gmail.com) and there's more to read plus a mailing list at https://www.alexpendragon.com/ where I'll periodically flag up new stories.