Page 5 of Coffee and Tea

He shivered everyplace, a full-body yielding to decadent pleasure. His hips rocked, pushing against air.

“Perfect,” Jason whispered, hand gentle in Colby’s hair, a caress. His Colby needed that: it wasn’t about sharpness or pain or implacability, not for the way they fit. Command and surrender, though; praise and affirmations, yes. Colby wanted to belong to someone, to be wanted, to be loved. Which was, yeah, perfect. Because Jason loved him.

He made Colby watch. He fucked Colby’s pretty mouth, putting on a show: his length sliding in and out, slick and shiny. He nearly came, himself, at the sight and sensation combined. Colby tried to be very, very good: licking and sucking and caressing Jason’s length, until Jason held his head in place and just took him, faster, rougher but not too rough, just making clear which of them was in charge. Colby shuddered with ripples of happiness, and grew more pliable, easy as candlewax, wholly in Jason’s hands.

So good, so immense, so much, abruptly: himself looking down, watching Colby watch every motion. Himself buried so deep, to the hilt. Colby’s mouth so messy and pink. Colby’s long limbs all pliant with submission, the contrast with his flushed hot cock. Thundering release hammed along Jason’s spine, up into his body, the base of his dick.

He pulled back. Clung to self-control.

Colby moaned, dazed, beautiful and filthy and glorious, swaying with desire and the loss of Jason’s cock. His hands remained behind his back. So well-behaved.

“Almost.” Jason couldn’t make it last; he knew he couldn’t. “But that’s not everything you want, is it, baby? You want me to fuck you, to claim you, right here on this stage? To show everyone? Tell me yes or no. That one’s an order, too,” he added, in case Colby needed the reinforcement. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” Colby pleaded, words tumbling and blurring with bliss. “Yes, yes…please, sir, fuck me…I need it, Jason, I need you…in me, filling me…dripping out of me…like the rain, like honey, like the sugar…oceans, I said…please, please, show everyone, take me, fuck me like this, please…”

“Jesus,” Jason said inadvertently. He knew his husband had an occasionally startlingly descriptive mouth, but Colby hardly ever swore; famous for it, in fact. That’d been twice. Plus the sugared oceans, splendid near-incoherence, though not wordlessness, because this was Colby.

This was Colby, who needed to be fucked by Jason, right now. Jason’s entire body agreed. Resonant with it, a drum-beat.

He told Colby to get on the bed, on both knees, and wait. He flung his clothes someplace. Grabbed the nearest lube, which was a good one but getting low. It’d be enough.

He came to join his husband, who was kneeling obediently but leaned heavily into Jason’s gathering arm. Colby’s head tipped against Jason’s chest; Jason steadied him. “Still okay, sweetheart?”

Colby nodded. Nuzzled Jason’s collarbone, uncoordinated. Whispered, “I feel like the drops of honey.”

“In the ocean. Sweet, salt, dissolving, got it.” He eased Colby’s legs further apart, found that tight furl of invitation, pink and pretty here too. He wouldn’t hurt Colby, though he knew they both were desperate; he opened Colby up tenderly, fingers and lube and stretching, made easier because Colby was so soft and malleable and needy just now, abandoned to sensation and the security of Jason’s orders.

He knelt behind Colby, holding him up. He whispered, “Watch,” and slipped his hand away and pushed the head of his cock against Colby’s body, and slid home.

Colby cried out quietly, a tiny wondering crack of sound; he watched, mesmerized, the motions in the mirror, Jason’s arms and strength around him, keeping him up; Jason lifting him slightly, repositioning, and pulling him down; Jason’s dick sliding into him.

“So good,” Jason breathed against his ear, “for me, like this…and everyone else, watching…they can see how good you are, how good you feel, how much you love this…me fucking you, baby, my cock inside you, because you’re mine, my Colby, always, all mine.”

Colby’s moan was hungry and instinctive; he hadn’t stopped watching. Jason told him, “I’m going to make you come now, because that’s mine too, all of you, because I want you, Colby, because I love you,” and finally put a hand on his poor neglected cock, a firm grip, motion. Colby’s entire body jerked in response, tightening around Jason’s length inside him.

Jason managed, “I want you to come, baby, come all over yourself, from me fucking you and my hands on you,” and Colby sobbed Jason’s name and did, just like that, velvet-hot spurts splashing upward, all over himself, while he spasmed and shook and whimpered.

Jason couldn’t wait, couldn’t hold back, at that. Thrusting. Hard. And coming: his own release flooding up and out and into Colby, the thunder back and pounding in his ears.

He clung to Colby. He whispered, “Feel it, baby, feel me inside you…filling you up, the way you like it, so full of me…” and Colby moaned and twitched and stirred against him, muscles rippling, clenching and easing, a small second electric spasm or a continuation of the first, prolonged by Jason’s voice and Jason’s release into him.

“Mine,” Jason told him, and held him, and kissed him, and soothed him, with such love, until the trembling aftershocks dwindled, until Colby was limp and sweet and wrung out, collapsed into Jason’s strength.

He eased out, tenderly, and settled Colby down into the bed, even more tenderly, and did a little bit of clean-up, leaving some traces of himself for Colby to feel and see, in a minute.

He got Colby to sit up more, being cuddled; he got Colby to drink some water, small sips, head resting against Jason’s shoulder. He petted Colby’s hair.

He told Colby he was beautiful, perfect, wonderful. Everything Jason could ever want, and more. He rubbed Colby’s arm, back, hip; he found an individual freckle or two and connected them like stars in a constellation.

He kissed the top of Colby’s head, tasting dark hair like chocolate silk, a little sweat-damp.

Colby blinked against his chest; Jason felt the sweep of eyelashes. He breathed, “Shh, you can rest.”

“I’m awake.” Colby blinked again, shifted to look up at him. “That…oh, Jason. Oh, my.”

“Good?”

“We’re doing that one again sometime. You…oh, yes.” Colby glanced over at the mirror, now reflecting naked cuddles in the expanse of raindrop sheets. He pulled up one leg, ran his fingers along his thigh. “You wanted me still sticky with you…”

---