Page 69 of Nights Without Night
He sits up, kneeling on the bed with his ass on his ankles, knees pointing towards me. He grabs my hips and drags me towards him, my knees bending towards my chest. He lifts me so my ass is propped up on his knees, hole exposed.
“Fuck,” I say, trembling.
Isadoro watches my fingers disappear into my hole, my arms straining. He holds fast onto my hip with one hand while the other comes to part my cheek further for a moment before a finger presses against my stretched entrance. I pant hard, feeling vulnerable and safe.
He grabs the lube, manoeuvring it so some gets on his fingers before they return to my ass. My arm is burning, fingers tired, but I keep going. I’m rewarded by one of his fingers breaching me alongside my own. A moan drags itself out of me. He joins my pace, pumping in and out of me before I feel the press of another finger.
I whine as it enters me. God, the stretch. The fullness.
Isadoro doesn’t let me slow down. He slides his two fingers in and out, and mine follow. I can’t quite catch my breath, and then Isadoro presses his fingers down and I stop breathing completely. I choke on the pleasure that lights through my body.
I must be making some kind of noise because Isadoro shushes me, stroking his thumb on my hip bone.
“Fuck me,” I say. “Fuck me already.”
I hear Isadoro laugh slightly, but then his fingers are sliding out slowly, and so are mine. I feel so empty suddenly, feeling my hole wink closed. I gasp a little, broken sound, but then Isadoro is hauling me up. He turns us around so his back is against the headboard and I straddle his lap.
I hold the base of his dick and then sit on it in almost one go. The move punches the breath out of both of us, but my hips are already grinding up and down as if untethered from me.
“Oh God,” I moan. Isadoro pulls me into a sloppy kiss and then away just to look at me.
“I, I,” I say, but the words get lost in the moment.
I start fucking myself for real. I lift my hips, feeling the drag of his cock inside me, before pushing down sharply. Isadoro holds my hips, following my pace. I tilt my head back, just feeling for a moment, letting the reality of it wash through me.
Isadoro doesn’t tolerate the distance, however. He pulls me close again, wrapping his arms around me until we are pressed close. All I can do from this angle is grind up and down deliciously, so it’s just full to fuller to rubbing the spot inside me that makes my voice fill with pleasure. I bury the sounds in Isadoro’s neck.
He is everywhere around me. I feel him so close.
There was a time when I lay next to him in bed and felt thousands of miles away. During the last night of his first leave, watching him next to me. His eyes were closed, but I couldn’t tell if he was really asleep. His body was foreign to me then. It had widened, filled. His eyes had changed. The quality of his movement had altered. I’d have to relearn this Isadoro, but he wasn’t mine anymore. Not like he had been mine during childhood. It had been him and me, then. But life didn’t care about the plans made by either animal or man.
Now, his body is here to stay. All those alterations in the fabric are being smoothed of their abrupt edges. There is still so much more to learn and figure out. The hard parts of life don’t stop just because you find somebody to spend it with, but we have time. And each other.
“Iván,” he says, and I can feel the pleasure rising. He starts thrusting his hips harder as he grips my cock, stroking me with an uneven, desperate pace.
“Fuck, yes. Yes,” I say, clenching my ass around him, and I feel him come a moment before orgasm hits me too.
My dick spurts over his hand and chest as he pulls me closer. He buries himself in me and I take him, just as he is right now.
We pant against each other. I feel completely sated, down to the quality of my soul. We lay there for a while, sticky and sweaty. We have all the time in the world.
**********
When we were seven, we’d been playing on the farm when we were suddenly cursed by an evil wizard. He had bonded us together so we couldn’t part for more than a few feet or suffer pain like we had never felt before. We searched the wide lands ofLa Porterafor a cure, but none could be found.
We’d gone home and told my parents of our predicament. They’d tamped down a smile and nodded severely.
“That sounds very inconvenient,” my dad had said seriously, “seeing as how you’re always so far away from each other.”
“We have to doeverythingtogether,” I had said.
“Even poop?” my mom had asked. Isadoro and I had looked at each other.
“We can stand outside the door for that,” Isadoro had decided.
The curse had lasted three days. We showered and ate and slept together. We made plans about how we’d deal with the curse once we got to school. But then, on the Sunday night, mom came into my room where we were playing on connected Gameboys. She was holding a cup in her hands, and we squinted at her suspiciously as she neared.
“What’s that?” Isadoro had asked.
