43. Matthew

43

MATTHEW

F ischer was too paranoid to have sex with me the night Vaughn walked in on us, and I don't blame him, but I've been making up for lost time ever since.

When I come out of the bathroom Friday morning, dawn is breaking outside, and he's exactly how I want him. Passed out. No, I didn't drug him, though I absolutely won't hesitate to if he gives me the green light—I know people—but I did put him through his paces. All night. I'd also forced him to stay awake so that when he did fall asleep, it'd be hard.

The desire to mess with him while he's asleep is a Fischer-specific need. It probably started after his first nightmare—the night of the thunderstorm. The times I've indulged in his sleeping body since have been unforgettable.

I stroke his exposed leg as I stand beside the bed, my other hand on my cock, which doesn't need much help to get hard when he's ass up and relaxed like this.

I use a small amount of lube, rubbing it between my fingers to warm it before I slick up his crease with a slow, light touch. When he shifts, I freeze, and my dick gives a rough throb. But then he settles again.

Precum forms a bead at my tip, and I shudder with restraint and want. I let go of my cock for the moment, already too stimulated. Softly, I press a fingertip to his hole, rotating to outline the rim. He's so soft. So beautiful with his leg hitched up and his swollen lips slightly parted, spent, and debauched. All mine.

I pick up my phone, open the camera app, and hit record to capture my prime time princess in all his filthy glory. My big brother who can't help himself with me. Nothing has ever felt more right than doing wrong things to him.

I can't explain how much I love him. I love him because he's as familiar to me as breathing. I love him because he surrenders all his hard-earned control with me. I love him because he looks at me like I'm worthy of worship. But I also love him because he's as irascible as he is vulnerable. He's a lifeline and the voice in my head that says to do better.

My finger slips inside him, and he doesn't stir, doesn't even twitch. His body may even be too worn out to bear down, and that shouldn't turn me on more, but of course it does.

I lick my lips, salivating as I clumsily zoom the shot in, watching on the screen as my finger moves leisurely in and out of him. I easily slip in a second because he's so loose and relaxed. "Look at the way your body sucks me in, princess," I whisper. "It's so fucking hot inside you. This…this right here…" I curl my fingers to press the soft swell of his prostate. He shifts again and lets out a huff of air. "I wanna fuck it raw so bad. I want to paint it with my cum."

His ass clenches, and I freeze again, shutting my mouth but keeping the camera aimed at my fingers deep in his hole. When he relaxes again, I murmur, "You like that, sleeping beauty? You like being fingered in your sleep?" I train the camera on my own leaking cock. "I don't know if you can tell how hot you are, but if this is any clue…"

I slide my fingers out and give his ass cheek a gentle massage, before moving my hand to the other, kneading the flesh. He grunts and shifts onto his side. I take back my hand. I'm careful to keep his face out of the frame, but he's showing me his dick now, the one I want a rose quartz version of if I ever start to miss him too much. He's sporting a semi.

I set the phone on the nightstand, angled toward his dick, and I get on my knees beside the stacked mattresses. With one hand on his hip, I open wide, gently lift his dick, surround it with my mouth and then close around him, letting out a sigh of relief at the feel of him on my tongue.

I barely even move. I mostly hold him there, opening my throat, and working the muscle of my tongue against the base of his shaft. The softest suction, enough to satisfy my fixation, but not enough to wake him, I hope. Minutes pass, and the sun rises. His hips shift slightly forward, and I respond with more of a suck.

Like he's having a sex dream, he rocks his hips in search of friction I happily provide, caressing his ass and playing the role of whoever he's fucking in his dream— and it better be me .

The more he participates, the more risks I take, sliding two fingers deep into his hole, lodging them against his prostate and holding them there.

"Matty, baby…" he sighs. I glance up to find his eyes still closed, his features still relaxed.

Loving the way I've made it into his dreams, I give in to the overwhelming urge to touch myself. His dick thickens in my mouth while I keep him plugged from behind. His thrusts pound the back of my throat harder than he's ever gone on me, and I start to wonder…regarding the quartz cock conversation— does he need that ? I struggle to take the force of him without making noise.

He mumbles incoherently except for the occasional curse. When his cum floods my mouth, he groans and stills. " Fuckin' A ," he moans, going utterly limp as I swallow his load and jerk my own out, the most incredible ache in my thighs and groin transform to bliss as my spend coats my abs and hand. When I slide my mouth off him, I'm grinning at the fuckin' A .

Glancing up, I find half-lidded, glazed mirrors staring at me, a line between them. "What are you doing?" he mumbles. I wipe a drop of his cum from my chin and stare innocently back at him, only now realizing my fingers are still in his ass. He clenches like he's just figuring this out, too.

"Did you just blow me?"

"Maybe," I whisper.

"I came?"

"Uh-huh…"

"What's in my ass?"

"My fingers."

He arches a brow. "You can do better than that, can't you?"

"I came, too," I admit.

"When has that ever stopped you?"

The man has a point. With no time to waste, I move him over, lie down on the bed, and pull him on top of me. Positioning my cock at his entrance, I bend my knees and shove in. He wraps his arms around me and rests his sleepy head against my neck. "Matthew," he groans. "Are you fucking filming this?"

"Shh, princess. Be a good brother, shut the fuck up, and take my cock like you know you want to."

"Mmm…" He acquiesces to this request with no argument. He might be awake, but he's not all the way with me either, and I love it as much as I love him talking in his sleep. He relaxes on top of me and lets me use him, groaning his pleasure in all the right places while his tightening ass gets me hard again. So hard . He feels unusually good—extra hot.

His cock slides back and forth on my cum-coated abs, and I'm in fucking heaven.

"Are you gonna use this to blackmail me?" he asks as he takes me like a champ.

"It's going straight to my spank bank," I assure him.

"I want one."

"You don't need one. You've got me. Anytime you need me."

"What about when you work overnight?"

"Call me, and I'll talk you through it."

"What if you need to open a door when I need you?"

"Fine, I'll send the video to you."

Mind you, we're still fucking during this conversation, and it feels unbelievably good. He's fucking my cock like he's learned a whole new set of muscles exist back there.

"No, I want you to stay here. Don't open any more doors for other people."

"Mmm…" I steal a kiss from his lazy, pouty mouth. "You'll get sick of me."

"I won't. I wanna fuck and fuck and fuck…"

"You sure you never cheated on your wife while you were overseas?"

"I jerked off a lot."

"What's a lot?"

"Couple times a day. Or anytime I thought about you."

"You're so full of shit."

"Wish I was," he says, rolling his abs to smash his dick between us.

"How often did you think about me?" I ask, wishing there were proof.

He sucks in a breath and grabs me by the hair. He's getting close. "More than a couple times a day."

"Pretty horny for someone your age."

"You have no idea."

I smile, moving methodically inside him. "Dirty old man."

"You love me."

" You have no idea," I say.

"I love you, too," he murmurs. "But I can't say it as good as you can."

"You're saying it right now. You're smothering me with it."

He lets out a long, tortured grunt. "You feel so fucking good."

"So do you, princess."

"I'm so fucking hard again. How do you do that?"

I kiss him, but this time I do it longer. I go deeper. I roll my hips to fuck him better. At this angle he only gets about half my cock, but it's the most important half, so I'm perfectly content to do this until he starts begging for more.

And I know he will.

The longer I kiss him, the wilder he gets, like he's trying to tell me with his mouth to go harder. There's a building frustration in his effort that tightens my belly and my balls. He's the best kisser. I don't know how I went as long as I did without kissing men. Turns out I like being roughed up by facial hair. But any perfunctory kissing of men I've done never came close to how blatantly sexy kissing Fischer is. Fuck, now I'm too close.

I break away from his mouth, and he takes the hint, pressing his hands on my chest and sitting back on my dick, taking it deep.

I grit my teeth and moan. Jesus Christ that's good . He's never felt like this before…

He makes a deep noise of pleasure. "Mmm…thank God you changed your mind."

It takes me several seconds to process what he just said, because he feels so intensely hot and tight. And then it clicks—I'm not wearing a condom.

"Fuck—"

And I am so goddamn close.

"Fischer— no ?—"

"Matty, please …"

He's already touching himself. Already leaking. He's so blissed out, it's nearly blinding. "God, oh God—" How do I stop?

Like my entire life depends on it, I catch his ass before his next plunge and yank my bare cock from his clenching hole. It immediately explodes with cum, and he growls with frustration, clawing marks onto my chest before jerking himself hard and fast until he blows his load, aiming it straight for my face.

I take it, even though I know he means it as revenge for not getting what he wanted. As he continues to unload on me, he punctuates each jet of cum with his words. "It's not. Fucking. Fair."

There's not just frustration—there's pain in his voice, and it hurts to hear. I want to give him everything.

All of me. Anything he wants. But a month ago, I was getting railed by randoms at the Plaza, and while I've gotten lucky in the past, I'm not stupid. I've risked all I'm willing to risk with him. The only one who deserves to pay for my recklessness is me.

But now that he's chosen me, there's a small price for him to pay, too.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"How much unprotected sex have you had, exactly?" he asks, angry.

"Not much, I don't think."

"You don't think?"

"Sometimes it's hard to tell. And…"

"What?"

I cover my eyes so I don't have to look at him when I say this. "You know that dude you take to the men's room for a quick BJ?"

"I've run across him once or twice."

"I'm that guy."

"Jesus."

"I'm on PrEP," I tell him.

He snorts. I take my hands off my eyes and squint up at him. He's shaking his head, but I don't get the sense he's judging me. "You done sowing all your wild oats, then?"

I nod.

"Hmm…" His fingertips outline my mouth, then he wipes his cum off my face. "So, you fuck up, but you make smart choices, too."

"I try."

"You know they have rapid testing."

"Not at the clinic I go to. I asked last week."

He smiles faintly. "You did?"

"They also said I was low risk. Because of the PrEP, and it's harder to get from oral and everything."

"Let's find you a rapid test. Just to put your mind at ease."

"This is a big deal for you, huh?" I ask.

"I don't want fucking me to stress you out or make you have to think too hard."

I roll my eyes. "Rude."

"Fine." He rolls to his side and moves closer, slinging an arm across my chest. With his face close to mine he says in a low voice, "I want you to fill me up. Is that what you wanna hear? I want you to fucking breed me. If I have to commute to work from the Bronx, I should at least get to leak your cum on the way to work."

"You want to be able to walk today, princess?" I ask, turning his gaze to my newly twitching cock.

He slides his hand down and grabs hold of it. "I can barely walk on a good day."