Page 106 of Under Construction

Dennis tries to look away but Chris's fingers guide him back. Left with no choice, Dennis nods. Admits the truth.

Chris's intense stare deepens Dennis’s blush. Words fail him as his body betrays him—his hole clenching rhythmically, wanting and empty—until Chris's fingers return to it like he knows exactly what Dennis needs. He circles and strokes the outside, massaging with just enough pressure until Dennis’s breathing steadies, the earlier panic dissolving.

"What do you need, darling?"

Chris's words send a buzzing scraping through Dennis’s scalp, down his spine, out to his fingertips. His lungs seize, too tight for speech. Instead, he yanks Chris down by the neck, licking into his mouth with little whimpers and breathy sounds, kissing him hard enough to bruise.

"Den—no, don't—!" Chris stiffens in surprise before melting into it. They sink into molten, drawn-out kisses while Chris's fingers keep teasing his rim. Dennis keens into Chris'smouth, hips rocking as he chases more friction, both arms locked around Chris's neck.

When they part for air, Chris says, "You want to watch."

It’s not a question. Not an observation. Just certainty—he knows parts of Dennis that Dennis has barely discovered himself.

Dennis frowns. His eyes flit away before finding Chris's again. He nods, face red.

Chris kisses him again, lips curved in a pleased smile. "Baby, you can tell me these things. I want to hear every thought in that beautiful head of yours, okay?"

"Shut up," Dennis squirms, but warmth fills his chest. Even at his most exposed and inarticulate, Chris accepts all of him. He kisses Chris again, partly to hide his vulnerability, partly to wipe that tender smile off his face.

Chris helps Dennis sit up against the backrest, grabbing a cushion. "Lift up, baby." He slides it under Dennis’s hips, then kneels between his legs. He arranges Dennis until he's slouched back, ass lifted high, knees over Chris’s shoulders.

Chris picks up the hem of Dennis’s shirt, which has fallen back over his dick and lifts it to his mouth. "Hold this for me," he instructs.

Dennis bites down, keeping it out of the way as Chris leans forward.

"You'll see everything like this," Chris murmurs between soft kisses to the inside of Dennis’s thighs. He starts slow, tongue tracing and deliberate, savoring Dennis’s taste—but control slips fast. His hands tighten on Dennis’s lower back as he dives in, until he's consuming him like a starving man, raw and frenzied.

Little moans spill from Dennis’s lips as Chris's plush mouth, velvet tongue, and rough stubble create a symphony of sensations around his most intimate areas. Dennis pulls his legs away from Chris's shoulders, drawing his calves back until his ankles are by his ears—spreading himself wider, presenting his body the way Chris loves.

Chris groans Dennis’s name between eager licks, eyes closed as he loses himself in Dennis’s body. Between wet slurps and deep rumbles, his teeth scrape gently, then he's marking up the outside edges of the rim and all along the taint—that tender, pale flesh hidden from the world.

His aggression builds as he pushes his tongue deeper, sucking harder until Dennis whines. Chris yanks his pants down just enough to free his cock, then jacks himself while his head moves in rough circles, tasting every fold and ridge of Dennis’s heat.

Dennis’s hole clenches around Chris’s tongue on instinct. Each graze of teeth draws helpless, choked noises, muffled by the shirt in his mouth.

He wants to touch himself so badly, but he can't—one stroke and he'd explode. Instead, he watches Chris feast on his ass like a man possessed, tongue fucking him deep, wet and filthy. Watches precum collect in his navel, rippling with each throb of his cock.

"You taste so fucking good," Chris growls, turning his head to leave a red circle of teeth marks on Dennis’s pale skin. He uses his thumb to stretch Dennis’s rim wider, jerking himself faster as he stares into it. "Could do this forever, holy shit. Love how you open up for me."

"Chris," Dennis moans, watching Chris pleasure himself just from eating him out. "I need you to fuck me, need your cockstretching me open, have to feel you." He begs, struggling to hold back his orgasm.

Chris moves instantly, gathering Dennis up until his legs wrap around his waist. Just like their first night together, Chris carries him to bed while Dennis kisses him from above, half-convinced they'll trip, crash, and break their necks.

And like that first time, Chris settles them on the mattress, both sitting back on their heels with Dennis between Chris's spread thighs.

Chris strips off his pants completely, then tugs Dennis’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

After weeks of preparation and Chris's thorough attention with his tongue, two fingers slide in easily, scissoring Dennis with intent. Chris kisses across his shoulders, down his arms while his other hand pets Dennis’s stomach, distended from how sharply he arches his back to accommodate the first stretch.

Dennis leans back against Chris's shoulder, trying to relax, one hand reaching up to tangle in Chris's hair, the other trailing along his thigh.

Every time Dennis turns his head, Chris is there with soft kisses and gentle lip-bites, helping him through the initial burn.

Dennis rocks carefully against those skilled fingers he loves so much, trying not to lose himself. It’s all too easy to come untouched these days. His body responds to Chris's touch like it was designed for this alone.

When his hole loosens around three of Chris's fingers, Dennis reaches back to squeeze Chris's thigh—their signal.

"Okay, one more, yeah princess?" Chris eases in a fourth finger, both of them holding their breaths until Dennis’s body yields. "That's it, you can do it, doing so well," Chris murmurs as Dennis rocks back carefully, trying to accept Chris's palm despite the discomfort.

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