Fic: A Perfect Forever, brown cortina, by Sytaxia
Strong arms pinned his wrists to the bed as he was thrust, face-forward, onto the mattress. There were never any words, not during the actual act, only grunts and moans and long sighs of ecstasy. Chris felt hard, thick muscles of a well formed chest and the softening bulk of belly sliding over his back, sweat against sweat, meat against meat, pressure and strength rubbing against his bared flesh as a hand moved from its place, freeing his right wrist, and then fingers probed his arse, slicking it with whatever lubricant was on hand, and then slowly exploring him, opening him softly, a strange conflict with the powerful pressure that was being exerted upon the rest of him.
Seconds seemed to last forever, but were still far too short as the head of Ray’s cock softly probed the widening hole that his fingers had made, and Chris felt fingertips, still wet with lube, move upwards and brush against his shoulders, his neck, massaging gently and pressing with a near-bruising force at the same time as Ray started to pump, each thrust downwards bringing more and more of him into Chris’ body, an inch, and then two, and then three, four… Chris couldn’t think straight enough to count as Ray continued to probe deeper and deeper, pounding into him with animal force, lips and teeth grazing the flesh on his shoulders.
Chris moaned as he felt Ray slide every millimeter of himself into his arse, pulsing and shivering with joy and exertion as he did so, his thick, stiffened shaft forcing Chris’ buttocks apart, feeling as if it were on the verge of ripping him, of breaking him into a thousand pieces, and yet still awash with pleasure, a pain that swam in happiness as it rippled through him, stabbing downwards and coursing through his innards, rippling through every part of him as he felt his own cock shift and jerk against the blankets, rubbing against his belly with another taught, painful glee that seemed to fill him, reach down into the empty spaces within him and destroy any void that there could ever be.
Ray’s breath was hot and heavy against his back, a tongue sliding madly along his spine, sending ripples through his skin. The edges of Ray’s teeth skirted along the tender skin on his shoulders, nipped at his ear lobes as he writhed and moaned, and he heard Ray give a deep, longing groan of his own as he came closer, closer to climax, closer to filling Chris, spilling hot, smooth seed into him, and Chris knew that that moment was coming.
Ray’s strong thighs seemed to be gripping his own legs, the muscles taut and slicked with sweat as Ray continued to pump, up and down, a steady rhythm in time to his heart beat, the pulse growing more and more rapid as his breath fluttered in his throat. He felt Ray’s breath matching his, gasp for gasp, imagined Ray’s heart beating in time with his, a single, deep throb that filled the room, reached out and filled the world, drowning out anything else that there could ever be.
As Ray came, gasping and shuddering, Chris could know nothing else, even the bliss and physical pleasure of the moment were obscured in the falling curtain of the oneness, the togetherness of it all. This was two lovers, but this was one being, alone in a world where nothing could harm it, no bullets, no knives, no evil in sight. This was the only thing that was true, the only thing that was real.
As Ray’s pulsing cock spluttered out its last gasp of hot, milky liquid into him, he felt Ray’s entire body collapse, pressed against his, warm flesh against warm flesh, and he felt Ray remain inside of him, spent and starting to soften, but still firm between his own body - safe, and a part of him. One being, there, in that one second, that could be forever.
Ray rolled away then, withdrawing himself with another jolt of painful pleasure that rippled through Chris, and then reached his arms around Chris’ chest, drawing the two of them even closer, ignoring the congealing puddle of love that was leaking out from between Chris’ buttocks and staining the bedclothes. Firm, hardened hands rubbed against his chest, and Chris drew in a shuddering breath as he himself came, streaming more fluid out against the bed, and then closed his eyes.
It felt like it was forever. A perfect forever. Chris didn’t want to face the world, and the fact that it was a finite gesture, until as late as possible, and he drew his own hands over Ray’s, curling up inside of his chest, and listening to the thick, masculine gasps, smelling the hot, damp scent of Ray against him. A perfect forever, for as long as he could get it.