(no subject)

[latermaybe]

from here.

"Fuck me, right here," I murmured to him in Italian, words muffled against his lips. "Don't let me come. Not until you say."

He'd teased me about fucking in my office, with me bending him over the desk after hours, but despite my reluctance, it wasn't a fantasy he harbored alone.

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[latermaybe]

I lifted my head to watch him rummage around in the nightstand, a rush of heat flaring through my chest when I saw his hand emerge gripping the silver vibrator hidden in the back. I'd never had much interest in toys. I didn't see the point. But as he drew the cold tip of it along the inside of my thigh, my cock lurched, my heart skipping along with it.

Mouth dry, I nodded, legs spreading shamelessly. "Let's find out," I said roughly, my eyes meeting his own.

[speakordie]

As aroused and eager as I am, I still watch his face closely for any hint of discomfort. We’ve done this before, but he doesn’t remember and I know that he doesn’t owe me anything just because some other version of him has given it to me before.

“Okay. Tell me if you don’t like it,” I tell him in a more serious tone, dropping the act for a moment. Leaning across him, I grab the lube and pause to wink at him. “But I have a pretty good feeling that you will.”

As I lube up the toy, I twist the base to turn it on and even at the lowest setting, the buzz of it still sounds so loud in the quiet room. A surge of lust sparks through me as I remember vividly what it felt like to have this toy and Oliver inside me at the same time. Oliver doesn’t even remember our time spent in different bodies, and I find myself wondering if that’s something that can happen twice.

[latermaybe]

Nodding again, my eyes widened at the loud buzz of the toy, a soft, almost nervous chuckle falling from my lips. "You'll know, if I don't," I promised, taking hold of his wrist gently and drawing it closer between my legs.

With anyone else, I probably would've balked at the idea of having something like that inside of me, but with him, I wanted to do everything. Try everything. I couldn't imagine ever getting tired of exploring each other.

[speakordie]

“I know you,” I assure him, mouth going slack as he grips my wrist, guiding the toy to his hole where he’s still slick from earlier. My other hand wraps around his cock, stroking a few times before pressing the tip of the vibrator inside of him, still on low.

It sinks in slowly, swallowed by his body, and I stare down in fascination, chest heaving as I shift closer to him. Once it’s halfway in, I pause and look up at his face, thumbing at the wet head of his cock.

“How’s that feel?” I ask breathlessly, leaning over him and biting my bottom lip. “You look so gorgeous, Oliver.”

[latermaybe]

"Strange," I admitted honestly, breathing through the unyielding intrusion of the cold length of the vibrator. The buzz was gentle, almost negligible, until the angle shifted slightly, and I felt the deep pulse of it against my prostate.

"Good. Oh, fuck. It's good. Don't stop."

[speakordie]

Oliver sparks like a live wire, arching beautifully as the toy touches his prostate, and I grin down at him. My own cock is rock hard, flushed and leaking, but it barely crosses my mind. All of my attention is on Oliver, and he’s the only thing I care about.

“I don’t plan on it,” I assure him, pulling the toy nearly all of the way out and turning up the power a little before pushing it in again, making sure to angle it to press against his prostate again. This time I hold it there for a long moment, letting him feel the relentless buzz before fucking him with another long, slow thrust. “Told you that you’d like it. I’m always right.”

[latermaybe]

"Oh, God. I didn't... I didn't doubt you," I said breathlessly. Any hesitancy I'd felt was long gone. My body took over, hips rocking mindlessly in time with those agonizingly slow thrusts, my thighs trembling every time the shaft of the toy dragged past my prostate.

"Fuck, I don't know if I can take this for long," I admitted with a breathless laugh. I reached for him clumsily, one hand gripping his side, the other curling around his painfully hard cock.

[speakordie]

“That’s okay,” I assure him with a fond chuckle, breath catching as his big hand wraps around my cock. I drop the game entirely, too distracted by his wanton pleasure that I can barely do anything but stare and thrust the toy into him a little quicker, twisting it each time.

“I had grand plans of leaving this inside you while I rode you,” I admit with a broken laugh that turns into a whimper as he squeezes my cock just how I like. “Maybe some other time.”

I lean over him, planting one hand against the bed as I stare at his face, taking in every detail, absolutely awed by him.

“Do you want to come like this?” I ask him, pressing the toy deliberately against his prostate, “or on my cock? Tell me, hello.”

[latermaybe]

It would've been easy to come, just like that, the toy pressed firmly against my prostate, but I was overwhelmed by the desire to have him inside of me, again, hungry for it in a way that felt wild and unrestrained.

"Stop, stop," I croaked, gripping his hand and pushing the toy out of me. Reaching for him, I pushed him onto his back, following clumsily and throwing a leg over his hips. After only a moment of fumbling, I reached between us and held his cock steady, sinking down onto it with an unbridled groan.

[speakordie]

When Oliver tells me to stop, I worry for a moment that I’ve gone too far. I slip the toy from him and thumb the power off, looking at him in concern, only for him to manhandle me onto my back. It makes me laugh, low and breathless, but it dies in my throat as he climbs astride me.

His thick thighs bracket my hips and I reach for him, groaning at just the sight of him, but then he sinks down onto my cock and we both cry out. My fingertips press into his hips and I gasp for air, staring up at him with an expression that’s almost wild.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” I tell him in a breathless pant, reaching up to plant one hand against his chest, fingertips dragging through his chest hair. “Are you gonna come all over me, Oliver?”

[latermaybe]

"That's the plan," I said breathlessly, gripping the headboard with one hand, the other braced on his chest. His cock seated deeply, I ground my hips against his, mouth falling open when I found just the right angle. Then, there was nothing I could do but shamelessly fuck myself on his cock, panting out a litany of curses in both English and the broken Italian he seemed to love so much.

"That toy was nice. But God, this is so much better," I admitted, covering the hand he had on my hip and urging him to fuck me harder, a low whine caught in the back of my throat.

[speakordie]

It’s absurd that anything could feel this good.

I had an entire childhood of luxury— amazing food, well-made clothing, expensive books, good wine, sex with beautiful women. I had years and years of feeling good but being with him like this stuns me every single time. Nothing I’ve ever touched could ever come close to being half as good as Oliver.

“Of course I’m better,” I grunt out, even though the compliment delights me. He looks like a god, but I can still reduce him to this.

He pulls at me and I dig my heels into the bed, giving myself leverage so I can thrust up into him like he wants. It’s quick and hard and sounds obscene in the quiet of our bedroom, eager bodies crashing together. His cock is bouncing, weeping onto my belly, and I wrap my hand around it, thumb pressing immediately under the head. “Now, Oliver.”

[latermaybe]

He loved to do that, the smug little brat. I don't come on command— not really. I was already so close, trembling right on the edge until it became nearly painful, and he just happened to pick just the right moment to give his permission. It was a coincidence.

Who am I kidding?

"Fuck, fuck," I whimpered, going tense, everything seeming to go still for just a moment before I came with a strangled shout. I made a mess of him, just as I promised, streaks hitting his belly, his chest, a splatter landing in the hollow of his throat.

[speakordie]

“Yeah, that’s it. Good boy,” I gasp out, managing to be smug right up until the end. Somehow, I keep my own orgasm at bay long enough to watch Oliver shake through his. He’s so beautiful, so open and honest like this, and so sexy that I’m surprised that I can look directly at him at all.

His come is warm against my skin, body clenching around me so tightly that it’s almost painful, and I can’t hold off any longer. After a few erratic thrusts, I grab at his hips and drag him down as I buck up, burying myself inside of him as I come with a loud cry, back arched and head tossed back against the pillow.

[latermaybe]

Crying out again, I gripped the headboard and managed to stay upright as he bucked beneath me, his own orgasm as powerfully dizzying as mine had been.

Falling against him, my lips smudging against his forehead, his cock still inside of me, I laughed weakly. "Good boy?"

[speakordie]

There’s a buzz in my head, ringing in my ears, and I feel outright dazed as he leans over me. He makes me laugh, soft in breathless, and I reach up to push my hair back from my face before putting my hands on his sides.

“Don’t blame me for resorting to cliches to satisfy your praise kink,” I say with a teasing smile, grinding my hips up against him as I grab the back of his neck to give him a soft kiss. “You’re the one who broke my brain.”

I kiss him again and then let go of him so he can decide what happens next. I know he doesn’t always want me inside of him after he comes, so I leave it up to him, sliding one hand up the back of his thick thigh.

[latermaybe]

"Praise kink?" I said incredulously, a low groan catching in my throat. Panting against his mouth for a moment, I stayed where I was, letting myself feel him inside. Finally, I moved off of him with a hitch in my breath, rolling onto my side and pulling him in against me.

"That was... something," I chuckled, kissing his brow.

[speakordie]

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say as a question?” I ask with a fond, teasing laugh, nose wrinkling slightly as he pulls off of me. “I’ve had access to the internet for longer than you, Stern. I know things.”

He arranges me how he wants me and I am happy to let him, humming as he pulls me into his arms and kisses me.

“Oh good, you can still form your own thoughts,” I joke, tickling playfully at his side and then pulling back enough to see his face, expression softening as I reach up to brush back his sweaty hair. “Yeah, it really was. Hopefully you didn’t mind me springing that on you. It was very spur of the moment.”

[latermaybe]

"I didn't mind," I confirmed with a low rumble of laughter. "Quite the opposite."

Kissing his palm, I admitted, "I like trying things with you."

I was well aware that a lot of these were things he'd done with me before, whether I remembered those moments or not. To me, they were brand new, fresh, and even if they weren't the same for him, there could be something special in their rediscovery.

[speakordie]

"I like trying things with you, too," I reply with a warm smile, watching as he kisses my hand so tenderly. Since he came back, the juxtaposition between the Oliver from before and the Oliver from after have both thrilled and dismayed me, and everything between. It's the same pieces falling into place into different ways, two images overlapping.

As sad as the reason for it may be, there's beauty in rediscovering these things with him. It makes them feel new for me, too. In some ways, I'm lucky. How many people get to have someone as wonderful as Oliver fall in love with them twice?

"Hm, what else should we try?" I drawl out, walking my fingers up his arm and biting my lip. I may be too tired to do anything more, at least not with a little rest, but I do love to hear him talk.

[latermaybe]

"Right now? We should try sleeping," I suggested. "Napping. Not moving from this spot for at least eight hours." After a beat, I amended, "Twelve."

Kissing his forehead, I reminded him. "You were going to ride me while you fucked me with that thing, remember? That's a good place to start."

[speakordie]

“Twelve whole hours, huh?” I ask with a chuckle, sliding my hand up and down his arm and staring at his face. I could stare at him every minute of my life and never tire of it. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I groan softly at his words, reaching up to cup the back of his neck. He kisses my forehead and I kiss him on the mouth as he tries to pull back, soft and lingering.

“A very good place,” I assure him, rolling away from him to reach for the nightstand. The vibratory digs into my thigh and I laugh, setting it on the nightstand so I can clean it later. After tossing the lube in the drawer, I pull out a pack of wipes and tug one free, smiling over at him as I wipe my hands and chest. I love these moments, too— the quiet clean up, the domesticity, knowing that he’s mine, mine, mine.

“I can’t let you enter your coma all sticky,” I say as I fold the wipe over and sit up so I can wipe tenderly between his legs. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

[latermaybe]

"I'd never complain," I assured him, carding a hand through his hair while he dutifully cleaned us both up. Somehow, these moments were as intimate as sex— perhaps more so. His hands between my legs, touching me with so much care, his smile soft and full of so much love.

Plucking the soiled wipe from his grasp, I tossed it in the direction of the trashcan, then reached for him, urging, "Come here."

[speakordie]

“Right, that’s my job,” I say with a soft smirk, cutting him a look before turning my gaze back to the soft paleness of his inner thighs, strong and dusted with hair. His cock is sticky and pink, looking satisfied after all my attentions, and I hope that I might wake up before him so I can coax him awake with my mouth.

Oliver takes the cloth and I turn to see his outstretched hand, eyes pleading for me, and folding myself into his arms is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. It feels like coming home, like slipping into a snug little space made just for me, and I let out a content sigh as I settle against him, naked and warm and feeling so much better than I did at the start of the evening.

“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him quietly, stroking my finger along his chin. “All of it.”

[latermaybe]

"My motives weren't entirely altruistic," I pointed out, chuckling softly as I leaned in and grazed a kiss across his brow.

"But you're welcome," I added, squeezing him close. "Whatever you need," I lifted his hand, pressing my lips to the back of his knuckles. I could say that, only because it went both ways. Whatever it took, we were there for each other.