Page 133 of Sweet T

Tucker came up off of him, gripping Evan’s shiny cock in his fist. “This. In me. Now. We probably don’t have a lot of time. They’ll be coming in soon for dinner.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Tucker laid back. Evan lubed up a finger, and soon they were exactly where they’d left off earlier, Evan circling and pressing. First one finger, then two.

“That’s good,” Tucker said. “I’m ready.”

Evan lubed himself, then wiped his hands on the towel. He lifted Tucker’s large legs to his shoulders and guided himself in.

Tucker’s eyes rolled back. “That’s what I’m talking about. I need me some of that Harbuck magic.”

It was Tucker’s favorite position, being able to see his love’s face while being mounted, pounded, and climaxing. To see that rapturous expression when senses culminated was pure bliss. Tucker wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more, seeing Evan’s pleasure, or knowing he was the reason for it. Probably both.

However, both men had become rather addicted to their relaxed morning side-saddle sessions.

So, as Evan pressed into Tucker this time, he had an idea.

“I’m gonna go slow,” he said.

“I just told you we need to go fast.”

“I know. Trust me. I think the results will be.”

Evan re-lubed his hand and took Tucker’s cock into it. He stroked Tucker slowly, all the while retracting his own cock from Tucker at a snail’s pace, watching it emerge inch by slick inch.

Tucker squirmed. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Get back in me. Get in. Get it in!”

“Hold your horses. This is fun,” Evan said. When he saw the tip of his cock emerge, he pressed back in, but slowly, oh... so... slowly.

“You’re right, this is not going to last long.”

“I could pinch your head closed and keep you from coming.”

“Hot. But I think I’d blow your hand off.”

“No worries. I would never do that to you. Besides, your expression alone is enough to take me there, too. If you come, you come. C’est la vie.”

When Evan was all the way in this time, he pressed harder, grinding his pelvis into Tucker’s taint and forcing his cock deeper.

“God almighty,” Tucker said.

“Better?”

“Yeah. It’s when you take it out that it kills me.”

Evan grinned.

“No. Please–” Tucker pleaded.

Evan withdrew the same way again. Maintaining the slow stroke of Tucker’s cock, which felt somehow harder, bigger, and more rigid, in his hand like a small baseball bat.

Evan was a little over halfway out when Tucker seized. “Whoa!” he gasped, his breath a staccato hum like the revving of a quiet engine. Tucker shot. He shot higher than Evan had ever seen him shoot. But only once, then came a steady gushing flow over Evan’s fisted fingers.

Evan was also close, had been. He had been suppressing his own climax for Tucker’s benefit. But now that Tucker had blown his gasket, Evan pressed back in a third time, released the tap and let it flow with hardly any movement at all.

“Oh, man,” he said. “Yeah, that’s good. That’s really good.”

Tucker lowered his legs, clamping Evan from behind, locking him in. Evan let go of Tucker’s cock and fell forward, first to a push-up position, hands to either side of Tucker, then collapsing completely on top of him in a sweaty, panting heap.

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