After the End Ch. 09

"Yeah?" I was on board with this idea, the pressure relieved. "Ok."

I moved to sit against his headboard, which was covered with buttery reddish-tan leather stretched over layers of some kind of padding, for an effect both stylish and comfortable. "This is nice," I said.

"Thanks." He followed me, knees drawn up like mine. "A family near Sabine Ridge offered me the leather when I saved their toddler's life after a bad accident. My mom helped me source the bamboo fibers and put the frame together."

His parents were as friendly as he was; they'd even invited me over to celebrate a holiday meal once. I'd effectively been an orphan for the past eleven years, but at times it still threw me off when other people could so casually say something like my mom helped me. Even when my mother had been alive, I'd done most of the helping in my family.

I had no intention of going down that road, so I changed the subject. "Have you done anything like this before? Sleeping with two people who have their own relationship?"

"Not exactly like this, but I've been with multiple partners in the past, and my boyfriend in Houston had a friend who would join us sometimes."

We talked for a while in the inviting glow of the lamplight, ranging over past and present -- his internship, his artwork, why he chose medicine, interests we shared and didn't share. He wasn't into sci-fi like Julian and I, but he owned a few books that held meaning for him, which I was curious to see and hear about.

Eventually, as the free-flowing conversation relaxed me, my attention was drawn to more carnal matters -- the nearness of his well-built and handsome physical form, and all the ways I might use it. I angled myself toward him.

"So, I know you've agreed to do whatever I want, but I can't read everyone's mind like Julian, and I don't want things to be...weird. Do you -- is it ok if I tell you to take your shirt off?"

He met my gaze, calm and subtly eager, and he spoke with the candor that made him so easy to get along with. "I really like you, Avery. I'm very attracted to you, as we established at our first session." A small smile, and my core warmed at the memory. "What I enjoy in this kind of relationship is being of service. Being desired. Whatever you want is by definition what I want, because I want to please you."

I want to please you echoed in my head for a moment, then alchemized into liquid metal, seared a path through my chest and gut, and settled in my cock, where it solidified.

"Take it off, then," I told him, the heat from his words seeping into my voice as well.

Obediently, he removed his t-shirt, folded it, and laid it next to the seafoam-green vase. He turned to me again, expectant but in a peaceful way. Like he would sit and wait for my command all night, if I decided not to give any, and he'd still be content doing it. Because he'd be serving me.

His long legs lay flat on the bed, so I reached one knee across and settled in his lap facing him. I slid my hands over the smooth, bare planes of his chest. The yellow kerosene flame cast faintly shifting highlights and shadows. He watched my face with that worshipful expression I was rapidly getting addicted to.

"I think you're beautiful too," I told him. It seemed like the kind of thing he deserved to know, since my approval was so important to him. "Handsome. But also beautiful. I feel very lucky that you want to...please me."

His hands rested on the quilt while I stroked his torso, since I hadn't given him any other instructions. I'd thought I'd gotten fairly decent at following Julian's orders, during those times I let him take charge, but Vik was next-level. My head tended to be full of thoughts and worries: what was Julian going to do; what was he going to make me do; how scary or excruciating or embarrassing would it be; would I get to come; when would I get to come; and on and on. Vik didn't appear to have any such preoccupation.

"I feel very lucky that you want me at all," he returned. "Especially when you have Julian. I can't remotely compare to him."

"Well, who can? But you have your own advantages." I brushed the heels of my hands over both his large brown areolas, and he sighed in something like rapture. "He doesn't get nearly as excited when I do this."

I kept my palms there, rubbing softly over his hardening nubs. He took long breaths, as if leisurely nipple stimulation could be a form of meditation. Based on some experiences I'd had with Julian, maybe it could.

"I didn't get to play with these last time," I said. "I missed it."

"Me too," Vik sighed.

I tilted my head mischievously. "You hard for me?" I could have looked down at his thin lounge pants, but I wanted him to say it.

"Very."

My own erection pulsed. I switched to fingertips against his nipples, gently pulling them erect and swirling around the edges. "When's the last time you came?"

"Last night. Late."

"What did you do?"

"It was quick; I was tired. Just my hand and some oil."

I pictured it -- him getting into this bed after a long day caring for sick and hurting people. Blowing out the lamp, pulling off his underwear, oiling up his hand. Stroking himself to desire, then to need. Spilling his seed in the dark, into his own fingers. There was something intimate yet lonely about it.

"What did you think about?" I asked, circling one areola with my fingertip, making him wait for contact with his nipple. Julian drove me crazy with that game sometimes.

"You," Vik breathed. His hands were still motionless on the bed. "And Julian. But mostly you."

My tone grew more seductive. "What about me?"

At that, he grew a little self-conscious and dropped his gaze. My finger was clearly starting to get to him, but he just took another deep breath and let me have my way with his sensitive chest.

"A variety of things, but if you want to hear the high notes..." He paused and shot me a quick, shy glance.

I rewarded his nipple at last, then started circling the other. "I do."

"How good your cock felt inside me," he confessed, softly erotic. "How you looked, coming so hard into my ass. That first night, lying spread out for you while you played with my hole. How hot you got teasing me. How you...made me hold still."

A current ran through my cock. "That was really hot," I agreed. I brushed just the tips of his nipples with my thumbs, slowly but relentlessly -- a maddening technique when Julian used it on me and refused to touch my cock.

"Ah, Avery." Vik's sigh was a rich alloy of joy and longing.

I left the pads of my thumbs resting on his nipples and leaned down to kiss him. He yielded his mouth eagerly, molding his lips to mine, letting me lead.

After a minute, I scooted closer, so I could feel his erection against my balls. "Isn't it torture?" I asked. "Having these sessions with us, playing Julian's games, being hard for so long and never getting to come?"

He looked up. "It is, yeah, of course. Twice as much as usual, because there are two incredibly hot men doing incredibly hot things with me. I want to come so fucking bad, from the moment we start, and it only gets worse as we go along." His hips shifted minutely under me, his desire evident yet tightly restrained. "But you and Julian both love that -- making me need it, not letting me have it."

I watched his face and stroked my thumbs deliberately over his sensitive nubs, then again, and again. His cock twitched and he held the air in his lungs a little too long, then he went back to the slow breaths, visibly forcing himself to relax under my teasing fingers.

"But you love it too," I said, still stroking him. "I can tell. Because I love it sometimes, but I also hate it. But I think you really love it."

"I do," he sighed while my thumbs caressed his unprotected nipples. "It seems backwards. It's so damn frustrating, when I'm sensitive everywhere and each touch is intensely arousing, and I want that moment of pure release, that one perfect bite of paradise, more than anything in the world."

He paused between sentences, and I took the opportunity to make out with him some more. I licked his tongue and savored his soft lips; he pressed back with what seemed like as much affection as need.

"But that's what makes it so good," Vik went on, laying bare his thoughts the way he had his body. "Giving it up when I need it most, surrendering control of my most intimate vulnerabilities... It's never any less difficult, but it makes me feel...close to someone. Liberated, in a different way from an orgasm. Cared for, even."

His mocha gaze met mine again. Yeah, I knew what he meant. It did create a unique bond. And damn, was I excited about being on this side of the equation.

I played his nipples a few more times. Then I pulled my own shirt off and moved out of his lap. "Time for you to be naked," I told him.

He slid his pants and trunks off and laid them neatly folded with his shirt.

"Lie down," I pointed to the middle of his bed. "On your back."

He obeyed, stretched out in a beautiful tableau of male flesh. I left my own pants on and draped myself along his right side, half on top of him so I could feel his hard cock pressing into my thigh. Supporting myself on my left elbow, I kissed him while my other hand smoothed over his bare torso. After a minute, I left my hand resting against his flank, the soft stretch of side between ribs and hip.

"So, you're ticklish, huh?" I asked. This was a subject I'd secretly taken great interest in, ever since he'd jerked away from my touch to his inner thigh that first night.

He seemed to know there was probably only one reason I would be asking, and he was already anticipating what would follow -- that deadly blend of excitement and dread, pleasure and agony I'd learned under Julian's fingertips.

Vik looked like he wanted to deny it, like he wished it wasn't true, but he admitted it anyway. "Yes."

I caressed his side gently, just a suggestion of what he might soon feel. "How much?"

This confession seemed to cost a little more, based on the husky quality of his voice. "Quite a lot..."

"Where, besides your thighs?" I pressed on relentlessly. My fingers kept gliding his skin.

A flush was coming into his face, and he broke my gaze. "Oh, you know, the usual..."

I wasn't letting him get away with that. "Tell me. All the places. And which ones are the worst."

This act of submission seemed to require another of his long, slow breaths. I was pleased to note that our conversation was only making his erection stiffer.

"My stomach, sides, feet..." Each word surrendered nervously, tension starting to simmer -- a savory erotic variety. "Neck, knees, balls... Almost anywhere, on the right day." He needed another slow breath in order to continue, delicious apprehension in his voice. "The worst is...my groin...and armpits."

I let him stew for a moment, my hand still a clear and present danger to his admittedly ticklish side, then I paused and commanded, "Put your left arm up, over your head."

He hesitated, seeming tormented by the prospect, but he obeyed. I adjusted my position so I could hold his wrist in my other hand, leaving his entire left side and armpit unprotected. His right arm was also out of commission, trapped between my body and left bicep. The sight of all that vulnerable, sensitive skin made my mouth water.

He was watching me, on the painful edge of suspense. Knowing what I was about to do, and how difficult it would be to endure, and choosing to let me do it anyway. That got me even harder in my pants, which no doubt he could feel against his hip.

He flinched slightly when my hand moved again, but I only stroked him softly, like I had before. Prolonging the suspense; making him surrender.

"Avery..." he groaned quietly.

"You like being tickled?" I asked, tantalizing. My fingers inched their way higher.

"Not really --" He held his breath while my fingers climbed his ribs.

That didn't seem likely, given the way his cock was responding and what he'd just told me about denial. "Not really like actually? Or not really like it's unbearable, and that's why you like it?"

My hand had reached the base of his helplessly exposed armpit. Very gently, I brushed my thumb just at the edge.

"Fuck --" His fist clenched above my hold on his wrist, but he didn't try to move.

I made another soft, slow stroke across his hollow, slightly higher. "I didn't hear an answer, Vik."

"I --" he started, but cut off when my thumb moved further into his unguarded pit, still stroking gently and deliberately over his ticklish flesh.

"You what? You know I can feel your cock spasming, so don't try to lie to me."

His head was thrown back with the effort of letting me tickle him, even as lightly as I was. But I thought the majority of the rapid breathing and tense muscles stemmed from arousal. I paused my thumb in the vulnerable center and kissed him again for a minute. He was desperate and hungry, and I'd barely even done anything.

When I pulled away from his lips, I stared at him meaningfully and gave him another soft stroke.

"I don't like it when it's overwhelming," he finally managed to tell me. Embarrassment stained his cheeks and his voice, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying it, especially in someone normally so self-possessed. "But -- the way you're doing it --" He pressed his cock into my thigh, but he didn't finish the sentence.

I changed my angle slightly and stroked up the line of dark hair inside his tightly-drawn armpit, still careful and gentle. A strangled sound came out of him, something between a gasp and a giggle.

"Look at me," I ordered, "and tell me what this feels like."

Vik met my gaze with some difficulty. God, it turned me on seeing one of our community's most respected, best-trained professionals this flustered. He squirmed briefly beneath me before restraining himself. I teased my thumb through his sensitive hollow again.

"It tickles, so much." There was suppressed laughter in his words, which I sensed I could unlock with the slightest increase in pressure on his skin. "But you touching me there, so softly -- forcing me to let you touch me --" A muted moan on my next pass. "It's making me really fucking hard...god, Avery..."

I smothered his mouth with mine. It was making me fucking hard too, and I wanted more.

When I could stop kissing him, I let go of him and moved down his trim body. On his own, he lifted his right arm over his head as well, one hand gripping the other wrist. I savored the satisfying sight of his surrender for a moment, then I took the tip of his rock-solid shaft in my mouth.

"Oh fuck!" he exclaimed. I used my lips to massage him for a minute, not too much stimulation, but plenty considering his current state. Then I gave another command.

"Open your legs."

He complied, spreading his thighs so I could lie between them.

"Wider," I insisted. "As wide as you can without hurting yourself."

That made his cock jerk and his hips thrust once toward my mouth, as if involuntarily. Then he pulled his knees up a little more, so his thighs were nearly parallel. Damn, this was such a power trip.

Putting Vik's glans back into my mouth, I laid both hands at the top interior of his legs, which was a super sensitive place for me too. He jumped a little but stayed open for me.

I didn't move my hands at first. I knew it must be killing him, waiting like this for the tickling to begin, all vulnerable and needy. I kept teasing his tip, and soon he was moaning.

My thumbs brushed the smooth skin beside his balls. His hips bounced and laughter spilled out of him, yet he left himself defenseless.

"Avery, fuck, please --!"

I licked his frenulum and paused my thumbs next to the creases of his groin. "Does it tickle here?"

"Yes, oh my god --" His words dissolved into laughter as I stroked his tender skin again, just light enough that he could endure it without protecting himself, though his control was obviously balanced on a knife-edge.

"And what else?" I asked, intoxicated by the depth of his surrender. I lapped the trigger point at the front of his glans again, and his cock spasmed.

"It teases..." Vik groaned in ecstatic agony at the intense sensations combined with my mind games. "It makes me need to come..."

"Yeah? You want to come?" I taunted him with my words and with my thumbs at his hyper-ticklish groin, eliciting helpless laughter. "You wish I'd let these tight little balls release?" I brushed his drawn-up testicles, then I tongued his tip before he could form a response. "You wish I'd let this rock-hard cock explode?"

He was barely coherent. "Please...please..." was all that came out.

"You know I'm not going to." I softly stroked his balls again and earned another giggle. He had said they were ticklish too.

He didn't reply, so I sucked him into my mouth, harder this time. I pulled up and down his engorged rod while my thumbs occupied the creases where his thighs met his abdomen, constantly threatening unbearable tickling.

When his moans grew frenzied, I pulled off abruptly. He emitted an immensely satisfying, frustrated cry, but he stayed in his obscenely exposed posture.

"You know I'm not going to let you come," I repeated as a reprimand.

He was straining and panting, but he answered. "I know..."

"Because your body belongs to me right now." The sentence rang with authority.

"Yes..." he agreed, at a much higher pitch than usual. My fingers still rested on his ticklish nerves.

"And I can do whatever I want to it." I sealed my pronouncement with a wide, wet stripe along his pent-up cock.

"Yes...yes...you can do whatever you want...I'm yours..."

That was as much as my own throbbing cock could take. "God, you're fucking hot as shit, Vik," I told him heatedly. "Where's your lube?"

It took a moment for him to process my question. "Nightstand," he got out, indicating one of them with his chin.

I left him splayed open and found the bottle discreetly placed at the back of the second shelf. There was a small towel folded next to it, so I grabbed that as well. I tore my pants and trunks off and lubed up. I was probably going to last about 2.5 seconds once I buried myself in his ass.

"Show me your hole," I told him.

Vik's answering groan was desperate. His hands pulled his knees toward each shoulder until I could see his opening. Damn, I needed it!

I crawled over him and pushed in immediately. His anal muscles felt amazing clenching against my dripping rod. "Yes, god," I was babbling, then I consumed his mouth like it was my last meal ever.

He let me into his body very quickly, but his moans were dangerously enthusiastic when I started pounding his ass.

"Don't you dare come," I warned, drilling deep into his core.

"I'm trying -- I want you so badly --"

"You have me. You just can't come." With each thrust into the divine compression of his back channel, pleasure gathered like a towering thunderhead on the horizon.

"Can I -- touch you --?" he asked brokenly.

"Yes." Why not, at this point? I'd taken everything I wanted.

He let go of his knees and wrapped his legs around my back instead. His arms pulled me tight against his torso, and his face burrowed against my neck. He moaned my name, then he disintegrated into wordless cries until I came loudly, losing track of everything except the heavenly waves of gratification breaking with each spasm into Vik's ass.

When the orgasm storm had passed, I found myself collapsed on top of him, still buried inside him. My head lay on the pillow beside his. He'd put his feet down, but he still held my body like it was keeping him afloat after a shipwreck.

"You didn't come, did you?" I checked.

"No." He was quiet now. Subdued.

"Good." I started to raise myself off him, but he tightened his arms.