Per Anum Ch. 08: Orientation

"That feels incredible, Greg," he gasped out. "You must lose at chess a lot."

I choked, halfway between a laugh and a cough with his cock down my throat. Pulling back, I flicked my tongue across the head of his cock and was rewarded with the salty-sweet taste of precum and another moan from Kabir. I started in on him again, focusing more on working the head rather than taking him deep into my throat until I got my breathing back under control.

My own cock was stiff as a board and straining my shorts to an uncomfortable degree, but I was supposed to be blowing him, not jerking myself off. Still, a bit of an adjustment wasn't too much to ask. I reached down and rearranged myself a bit, but Kabir caught my hand when I tried to put it back on him.

"Take it out," he said, voice soft but insistent.

"The bet--" I began, pulling off his cock, but he shook his head.

"Forget the bet," he said. "I want you."

I looked up at him; flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, chest heaving, staring at me with utter lust. His cock stood tall between his muscled, hairy thighs, gleaming with my saliva and bobbing slightly with his breath.

Needless to say, I took off my clothes.

He pulled off his tank top while I did, so when he drew me down atop him, it was skin on skin all the way down. A roll of my hips sent my erection sliding against his, a delicious friction that had us both gasping. Kabir wrapped a hand around both, stroking them together, spit and sweat and precum making everything sticky and slick all at once.

His other hand found its way back into my hair, curling around the back of my head to pull my mouth to his. First lips and then tongues, a tangled duel of slick flesh and hot breath, and still his hand squeezed and pumped us both so our cocks mirrored below what our mouths did above.

I was astride him on the loveseat, hands braced on his broad chest, my fingers sliding through his chest hair even as his twined through the hair on my head. Eventually, his hand started to wander down my body, caressing my neck, my shoulder, exploring the topography of my back like he was planning to draw a map. When his fingers curled around the curve of my ass, I knew he'd found what he'd been hunting because his grasp tightened, pulling me harder against him.

When Kabir ran a fingertip over my hole, though, and found it slick and ready for him, he was surprised enough to break off the kiss we'd kept up for long minutes.

"Did you..." he panted, "did you pre-lube? Did you come here with a plan to seduce me?"

"I didn't plan it," I said piously. "I just...prepared for it. I'm an Eagle Scout. We prepare for stuff. It's right there in the motto."

"Somehow I doubt this is what they had in mind," he said wryly, running his finger around my hole again. I made an unseemly noise and pushed back against it, which had the happy side effect of grinding my cock against his again even as I tried to get his finger inside me. Kabir just kept playing with the rim, though, sending teasing ripples of pleasure up my spine without quite going all in.

"Well?" I asked. "Are you going to let my preparations go to waste?"

I felt his amused huff of breath against my neck, but a moment later was rewarded with his fingertip sliding inside me. I made another noise, this one rather closer to a purr, and ground my ass down on his hand to drive his finger deeper into me. A bit of rearrangement, another knuckle deeper, and--yes. Right there. My eyes slid shut, my head falling onto his shoulder as I drew a shuddering breath.

A moment later, I groaned it back out when a second finger joined the first. Kabir started moving them, stretching me, opening me up more than I'd been able to ahead of time. Rolling my hips generated a double burst of pleasure as the head of my cock slid against his while his fingers did delightful things to my hole.

By the time his third finger was two knuckles deep, I was on the verge of doing something drastic. Kabir spread them apart oh so slowly, stretching my will as much as my body. Finally--finally--he pulled them out, wrapping his hands around my hips and raising me over his cock. Reaching down, I lined him up, feeling that peculiar combination of flexible rigidity that only comes from one thing.

We both groaned when the head of his cock pushed into me. My fingers clamped down on his shoulders as his face pressed against my neck, his breath a hot bellows against my chest. I slid slowly down his length, relishing every inch until I was fully seated. Nose to nose now, his eyes were huge dark pools of pure hunger.

Breaking the fragile stalemate, I began to move atop him. Flexing my legs, I rolled my hips and pulled about halfway up his shaft before sliding back down. Kabir managed to angle himself just right, somehow, so that with every revolution he struck that singular, exquisite spot inside me. His hands settled on my hips, keeping me steady as I rose and fell, faster and faster, using more of his length with every pass until all but the head was moving in and out of me each time.

Kabir kicked things up a notch when he started moving too, thrusting up into me as I dropped to amplify the effect, the impacts filling the room with the slap of sweat-slick skin against skin. Each plunge seemed to punch the air from my lungs, driving out a groan with every revolution of my hips. His hands, strong and sure on my waist, helped pull me down and raise me up to intensify things even more. My own erection, dripping and shamefully neglected, bounced off his abs with every thrust, leaving glistening trails in the dark hair that fanned across his stomach and chest. Kabir leaned forward, seeking my mouth, and even as my tongue dueled his I reveled in the extra friction as the head of my cock rubbed up and down his body instead of just slapping against it.

The next time I was all the way down, his cock buried in me to the root, Kabir's arms abruptly tightened around me. With a flex of corded muscle and a deft twist of his body Kabir turned us, lowering my back to the loveseat with him standing between my legs and keeping his cock inside me all the way. Wishboning my legs apart, he started to thrust again. His leverage was vastly improved in our new position, and both the force and pace of his thrusting increased to new heights. I had to brace one hand against the loveseat's arm to keep from being fucked right through the back of the thing and into the wall.

That did leave me with one hand free, though, and I was finally able to give my cock some much-needed attention. Every stroke of my hand and every thrust from Kabir seemed to squeeze more precum out of me. He seemed to unerringly strike my prostate with every thrust, each plunge into me sending sparks through my brain. I could feel the pressure building in my balls, like a pot rising to a boil. I wouldn't last much longer, and from the desperate look in his eyes and his increasingly ragged breathing, Kabir wouldn't either.

The previously steady slapping of flesh against flesh was accelerating, approaching machine-gun frequency as Kabir pounded into me faster and faster. The world shrank down until only sensation remained, his cock inside me, his hands on me, his ragged voice in my ear murmuring once again in that musical language I didn't understand. My hand flew up and down my shaft, copious precum easing the way as I chased him along the precipice over which he clearly already teetered.

Kabir abruptly went rigid with a shuddering groan, every muscle standing out in sharp relief. His hips quivered, his cock pulsing inside me once, twice, again, as he emptied himself into me. For a long moment he simply breathed, his eyes half-shut, his cock occasionally twitching where it remained deep within me. Keeping his cock in me, he shifted his hips and ground the head against my prostate, making us both gasp. Meeting my eyes, he curled his spine down and down until, holding my incredulous gaze, he wrapped his lips around my straining cock with his own still buried in my hole. His spine was bent impossibly far in some contortionist's trick, but watching his lips wrap around the head of my cock even as he kept grinding against my prostate was more than I could bear.

I erupted into his mouth, spots dancing in my eyes as my balls pumped out everything they had. My spine arched, my toes reflexively curling in the air where Kabir still held them up and apart. I probably made some very inappropriate noises--I don't strictly remember--but that singular image of Kabir's mouth around the head of my cock, a thin stream of my semen running from the corner of his lips, remains burned into my mind.

Some undefinable stretch of time later, when we'd both regained a measure of control over ourselves, I realized we were sprawled across the loveseat in a sweaty, sticky tangle of limbs. A faint buzzing came from the floor in the vicinity of my discarded pants, but I ignored it. I stared up at Kabir's wall disguised as an obsessively thorough planner, not really seeing it.

"I don't have class or anything Wednesday afternoons," I said slowly, as though revealing a great secret. "You?"

"I...don't think so? Nothing important, anyway. Why?" My pants buzzed again.

"What would you say to a weekly chess match?"

I heard his grin more than I saw it. "What would be the stakes?"

"Oh, I imagine we can think of something." More buzzing from the floor made me finally turn and glare at where my phone protruded slightly from my pocket. As I watched, it vibrated yet again.

"Going to get that?" Kabir asked. "Somebody seems to think it's important."

I made a dissatisfied noise but untangled from him and retrieved my phone. "It's just Mike drunk texting me from whatever party he's at." I scrolled through the messages, of which there were a surprising number, though they steadily decreased in logic and punctuation. Reading on, I snorted. "He wants me to come to the party, to meet some girl he insists is his soulmate."

"You never know," said Kabir. "Maybe it's love at first sight."

"Still," I said, setting my phone down and climbing back atop him to snuggle in once more. "Whoever this Angela is, she can't be that important."