Kingfishers

"For God's sakes, Core, are you going to fuck me or not?"

"Oh, is that what I should be doing?" I said as I sheathed and lubed my cock. I had to keep one hand on the small of Nate's back because he kept thrusting back against me, trying to impale himself.

I slid into him slowly, biting my lip to avoid loosing control. I tried to focus on the pain instead of the tight heat of Nate's channel squeezing my cock. I tried to go slow.

Nate shoved his hips back against mine so that I was fully seated, encased in heaven, Nate's tight channel stretched around me. Groaning, I began to move, sliding my cock across that sweet spot with every thrust, pulling Nate's chest up against mine so that we were both kneeling on the bed, rocking back and forward in large oceanic swells. I had been chanting Nate's name without realizing it, and Nate had been making noises that bore only passing relation to the English language.

When I felt a tight heat spreading from my balls I reached down and began to milk Nate's cock, gripping him in my fist and twisting my hand at the top.

"Core, I'm gonna—I'm—"

"Do it," I whispered in his ear. He came, and I followed him, tripping over the brink and free-falling.

Physics'll tell you differently, but I'm pretty sure that orgasm lasted for-fucking-ever. Nate was still lost in it, I could see, as I regained brain functionality on the other side of infinite time. He lay on the bed, every muscle relaxed, splayed out half on his side and half on his back. I tiptoed away to grab some wipes (the cheap and lazy always have wet wipes) and came back to clean him off.

While I was up I snatched my camera, because Nate looked too good to resist. I took a picture of him—nothing incriminating, I'd already pulled the sheet up, I'm not a fucking muckraker or anything.

The sound started Nate, and he blinked up at me, hazy with post-orgasmic languor.

"Wha...?"

"More studies," I said, as I put the camera aside and climbed into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled into his back. "I am going to paint you one of these days."

"Well you shouldn't fuck your models," said Nate. "'S unprofessional."

"You are shit at pillow talk, you know that?"

Nate cleared his throat and then affected the voice of a newscaster. "Young man, that was some excellent cock work right there. Ten out of ten, I say. One hell of a fucking."

I grabbed the extra pillow and whacked him over the head with it. The move was not super effective, because Nate's head was right behind mine.

"Go to sleep, asshole," I said. "We'll try again next time."

"Yeah," Nate murmured into my neck. "Next time."