“When you were eighteen?” Chester leaned over him.
“Yeah… it wasn’t the kind of thing I felt comfortable looking for.”
“Because you didn’t like it or because it was too personal?” Chester licked Garrett’s lower lip, and for a few seconds, he couldn’t answer because Chester’s hand was moving and his tongue was teasing. He lifted his hips for more and then the hand was gone.
He swept his thumbs over Chester’s collarbones and the piercings beneath, feeling the hard line of the metal just beneath the skin. Chester watched him, waiting for an answer. “It was a long time ago, and we were both trying out things. It wasn’t great. And even though I was tempted to try again, I didn’t want some stranger jabbing it into me.”
He used Chester’s words because that was exactly what he was worried about. Someone treating him as a hole to be filled and hurting him. It was something he worried about when hooking up, because he didn't want to be that person. It was possible to be impersonal and kind, or at least he tried to be.
Chester nodded. “Well, I want you to go slow because I like the stretch, and I want to enjoy it.”
He didn’t need to do much more than hold his dick as Chester eased onto it. The hot, tight heat of his ass enveloped him. Watching Chester’s face, the way his body moved as he sank deeper… He needed to run plays in his head because he did not want this over too fast.
He would never live it down.
He grasped Chester’s hips, holding him as he thrust up.
Chester leaned forward and put his hands on Garrett’s pecs. “Ease up, let me do the work.”
“Sorry.” He let go, dropping his hands to the bed, unsure what to do with them now.
“I didn’t say stop touching me, only that you don’t want to control me.”
“I don’t?”
Chester moved slower, and it didn’t feel that much different for Garrett, but from the look on Chester’s face, it was better for him. Garrett couldn’t look away. His hands smoothed over Chester’s thighs, enjoying the way his muscles moved. His cock bobbed as if needing attention.
“Do you want me to?—”
“No… just… like that.”
He didn’t even know what he was doing, but Chester’s eyelids fluttered closed, and his movements became precise. Oh… Chester was hitting the good spot. Each time he rose, his ass squeezed Garrett’s cock.
“Oh fuck.” He really didn’t want to control Chester when he was getting them both off with such skill, and it was hot as hell to watch. He wanted to pull him in for a kiss, but he didn’t want to break whatever holy experience Chester was about to have based on his expression. He settled for touching every part of him he could reach, before finally finding the piercing in his balls.
Chester sucked in a breath, his ass tightened, and he came, shooting across Garrett’s abs and chest. He’d closed his eyes, consumed by pleasure. Garrett wrapped his fingers around Chester’s cock and gave it a couple of strokes, drawing out every drop.
Chester shuddered and leaned forward, dropping onto his hands. “You can grip my hips and go as hard as you want now.”
He didn’t want to go hard. “I liked what you were doing… slow.”
“Like this?” Chester rocked his hips.
“Yeah.” Garrett met each one with a small thrust until each sensation was almost too much.
Chester swiped up some of his spilled cum with his thumb, sucked the digit clean, and then kissed him, letting it slide into Garrett’s mouth.
He groaned as he came, gripping Chester’s hips harder, not wanting him to move because it was too much. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He needed to let go; he didn’t want to leave marks.
His dick throbbed. He had never come so hard.
He opened his eyes, not sure when he’d closed them. Chester’s lips were still on his, and he was still inside him.
“That wasn’t takeout sex.” Which was what he’d been having. It was fine. It did the job, but it was forgettable. “That was like three-course sex.”
Chester’s lips curved. “Three courses at the cheap local restaurant, somewhere trendy, or fine dining?
Of course, he was going to turn that into a question. “Um, fine dining?”