Page 148 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

I rise up on my elbows, my eyes dropping to where we’re making contact before I look at him again.

“If you don’t sit your fine ass down- Fuck,” I moan as he does exactly what I want.

My head falls back as he swallows me and he matches my sounds of pleasure. He’s stretching to accommodate me, letting me mold him, fill him. It’s intoxicating.

“So tight,” I groan. “Fuck, Miles, slow down, I can’t-”

“Shouldn’t-” he grunts, “shouldn’t I be the one askingyouto slow down?”

I can’t open my eyes to glare at him. He’s still sliding his ass down to squeeze my dick, enveloping it with far more ease than I would have expected. I can’t focus on anything other than not coming right this second. In an attempt to gain control, I reach out to grasp his length and he stills. The brief pause allows me to lift my head so I can take stock of what I see before me.

My fingers gently grip Miles, his ass millimeters from my hips, eyes closed like he’s struggling just as much as I am. I stroke him, getting his attention and he stares at me, his eyes hooded.

Miles leans down, his muscles around me clenching and forcing a grunt from my throat. His lips meet mine and he lifts up before slamming down my cock. Stars explode across the backs of my eyelids and I move my hand faster, fingers meeting as they encircle his tip. My other hand grips his throat, holding his face to mine while he bounces against me.

“Miles,” I whimper. Being in charge doesn’t matter right now. I don’t want this to stop. “Please. Fuck-” He speeds up.

“Brody Torrence, I want you to fucking fill me.”

His words are the final push I need and I gasp, twitching as my release explodes deep inside him. Miles sits fully on my cock while I come, my hand halting its movements on him. When I finally still, he tries to lift, but I grab one hip and keep him in place.

“Oh no,” I pant. “You’re going to stay right there.”

I grab the lube that has rolled next to his foot, needing a refresh, and smirk when it hits his skin, cold and jarring. My hand finds his shaft again and I watch Miles’ eyes flutter closed with a whispered curse.

“Brody, please.”

“Please what?” I speed up.

“Fuck, I need-”

“Youneed?” I speed up a little more.

“God, Brody, I- Fuck, please.”

“I said,” my hand freezes, “please what?”

“Please, I need to come,” Miles whimpers, still unable to open his eyes. I grin.

“Look at me when you paint my chest,” I order and his eyes snap open.

I use both hands this time, the better to grip his full length. He struggles but keeps his eyes on me. His breathing becomes ragged, whimpers escaping his throat. I catch the odd curse here and there and lick my lips.

“Come for me,” I urge. “Be a good boy and come for me, Miles.”

He grunts, another curse dying on his tongue and I feel the jets of warmth hitting my chest. My hands pull everything from him, not even stopping when he’s spent. His body convulses, overstimulated.

“Stop,” he begs, curling down and trying to lift his hips, but I have a grip on his cock that he doesn’t want to test. I continue the torture. “Please, B-Brody, p-p-please.”

With a dark chuckle, I let go of him. Miles sits there for a moment, my soft cock still inside him, before rolling off. My release pours from him onto my hip as he falls and I let my eyes close. I’ve gotten my breathing under control for the most part and heave a sigh.

“Brody Motherfucking Torrence,” Miles laughs. “When did you become so depraved?” I’m too tired to open my eyes to look at him.

“I’ve been living with you long enough,” I shoot back. “You just rubbed off on me.”

“That’s not all I did.” There’s movement beside me and when I open one eye to see what he’s doing, Miles is propped up on his elbow, staring at me. “When did things change?”

“Kinda deep to ask while my brain is still half-melted,” I mutter.

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