Scott and Connor Ch. 08

Let me first say thanks to everyone for their patience. Day job + pandemic = a severe lack of time to shape the story. Struggled with this chapter a while because it needed to complete an arc while leading the story somewhere. I don't claim to be Shakespeare, but I at least try to have some sort of narrative and an idea of where these guys are going and how I want to challenge them -- mixed in with all the sex, LOL. So thank you. I hope you enjoy.

Definitely reread the end of chapter 7 before you dive in here.

Everyone is 18 or older and it's all fantasy anyway.

Chapter Eight:

Scott:

I gripped the sheets as I felt him shove into me. Face down, I bit the pillow and moaned as his cock plunged in. "Fuuuucccckkkk...." I groaned...

"Feels good, Scotty?" he breathed, as he began to thrust in and out of me.

"You... know... it... does..." I gasped between thrusts. Oh, fuck... his cock head was pounding my prostate and making my own dick leap. We had been fucking for nearly twenty minutes and this was probably our third, maybe fourth, position. If he kept ramming his knob like that, though, it would be our last. My dick was about to spew my load all over the bedsheets.

His hands gripped my hips firmly, pulling me backwards, impaling me on his hard, thick shaft. "I'm not gonna last much longer..." he moaned. I was hardly surprised.

"Me either..." I rasped, stroking my dick with one hand. "Just a little longer, keep hitting... oh fuck... right there..."

"Got your sweet spot?" he asked with an evil little laugh, as he churned his hips and twisted the head of his cock right into it.

"Yeah... yeah... fuck, just a little more... oh fuck, I'm...agggggghhhh...." My dick throbbed and spurted, splattering cum across the blankets.

"Fuck, I love making you cum," he moaned, and then pushed hard into me. I felt his cock throbbing, jetting his spunk into me.

It took us a moment to come down from our climax. I fell forward into the pillows as he pulled back, his cock sliding from my ass.

"That was so good," he said, giving my butt a playful slap. "So fucking good."

"It was," I agreed. "Definitely one for the record books," I laughed. He laughed in reply.

He was wiping his cum-slicked cock with a towel. I gestured for him to throw it to me. He did, and I used it to catch his slippery, slimy load leaking from my ass. Meanwhile, he flopped down on the bed next to me. We were both slick with perspiration, panting, and -- at least for the moment -- satiated. I rolled toward him and planted my lips on his. His hand looped behind my head, pulling me closer. We kissed, feverishly, as we wallowed in the sweat and afterglow of a hot morning fuck. Our tongues dueled as we passionately kissed and let the energy of our fuck fade and cool.

After a moment, I broke the kiss and climbed from the bed. I reached for my sweats as he propped himself on the pillows, one arm behind his head. His bare cock lay across his thigh, leaking a trail of sperm.

"Do you have to go right away?" he asked.

I chuckled. "Why, you hoping for another fuck?"

"Well, I'd never say no to a crack at your ass, but no, I just wondered if you had time to chill."

"Not this morning. I still need to stop at the frathouse and pick up my books."

I slid my shirt over my head, caught the strong scent of cum, sweat, and sex reeking from my pits. "And shower. Damn. I smell like a fucking whorehouse."

He chuckled. "What, you don't wanna go to class reeking of just-been-fucked?" He yawned and stretched. "You know you can shower here if you want."

"Thanks, I know, but all my clean clothing is there and I still have to get books." I quickly laced my sneakers.

"Ok," he relented. "Will I see you tonight?"

"Um, yeah," I replied, shucking on my coat as I was heading for the door. "Sure, we can do dinner. I'll be back around five."

"Sounds good," he replied. "Thank you, Scotty." As I started to pass through the door, I heard him say "...love you, babe."

I froze. And I turned.

He instantly knew he had overstepped and regretted it.

"Scott, I'm sorry, I..."

"I asked you not to say that," I said.

"I know, I forgot. Please, can you just forget I said it? I'm sorry."

"It's ok. But I need you to remember that this is just for now," I said firmly. "Just while...well, you know while what. For now."

"I know. I do remember. And it's enough for me. I'm just your bed partner," he said with a wan smile. "Connor has your heart."

"Thank you, Dean," I said, unable to prevent a note of guilt from creeping into my voice. I closed the door and left before he could say another word. I fled down the staircase of Dean's apartment building and into the cold air. I tucked myself into my coat and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Even though it was already late March, spring was taking its own time coming, and I could see my breath condensing before my face. It was at least a ten-minute walk from the graduate student housing where Dean lived to the frathouse, and I couldn't waste time. Ten minutes to walk. Ten minutes to have nothing to think about other than how I had ended up sharing the bed of a twenty-eight-year-old grad student, and how things with Connor had come to this.

*********************************************

Four Months Earlier, Thanksgiving:

Scott:

I turned the corner, nervous but excited. Nicole had always been more than just a sister to me. She was, first of all, fifteen years older than me. Our parents had her while they were barely out of college; I came along -- somewhat more intentionally, as they sometimes joked -- when they were in their thirties. She had a successful career as a psychologist, but long before becoming a professional "listener", she had often been my sounding board growing up. I was about to introduce her to my first real boyfriend, and I couldn't deny being a little anxious.

I didn't really notice that she had stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she came through the archway from the foyer into the living room. I still stumbled my way into a nervous greeting. "Sis, so, um, this is...well, let me introduce you to my boyfriend. His name is..."

And then I heard her finish my sentence: "Connor Kelly."

My head turned to her in shock and I think my jaw must have dropped on the carpet. I'd like to say that a dozen different thoughts went through my head -- surprise, shock, confusion -- but the truth was I just stared at her completely dumbfounded and empty-headed. I think it took me a full five seconds just to realize that she had spoken his name, and several more to realize that she was staring at Connor, shocked.

As I turned to look at Connor, I saw him step forward and hold his hand out to my sister. She didn't reach out to shake his hand right away, so it hung there in the air between them. Calmly, almost strangely muted, he said to her, "It's good to see you again, Nicole."

You know how sometimes a room is so silent that you can hear your own heartbeat? The living room was so silent, I could hear mine, hers, and his.

Someone had to break the silence. It turned out to be me.

"Um, you two know each other?"

I mentally congratulated myself on my firm grasp of the obvious and tried again.

"I mean, how do you two know each other??"

A long moment of slience persisted and then Nicole spoke. There was a clear edge of harsh disapproval in her clipped reply. "Well, Connor, since I assume you are the boyfriend I've been hearing about, do you want to tell your boyfriend -- my brother -- how we know each other?"

Connor was still standing there with his hand out. "I will. In part because I know you can't. I'd like to at least say hello first. Hello."

Nicole's face softened, albeit slightly. "Ok, fair enough." She reached out her hand and shook his. "Hi. Are you well?"

Connor smiled warmly. "I am. I am, in fact, extremely well and extremely happy." He smiled at me as he added, "and I think I can honestly say that I'm not the only one who is." He moved to the couch and sat down. "Why don't you both sit down and I'll tell you the whole story."

Over the next ten minutes, I heard it all. How Connor had lost his first boyfriend, his first love, in a tragic car accident. How he had almost died himself, but survived only with several surgeries and a lot of physical rehabilitation. And how Nicole had been his therapist, walking him back from the depths of depression, guilt, and blame to being functional again. He admitted that he had known all along that I was Nicole's little brother, and that he had kept an eye on me when I got to campus to make sure I was doing ok. And that while doing so, he'd grown very attracted. And that when he saw me at the frat party, he decided to go after me.

"You need to know that, both of you." Connor grasped my hands in his. "My attraction to you was completely real. Yeah, I surprised myself with how strong it was, and I probably should have had better judgment than to drag you off to bed so fast. I just wanted to be with you so bad." He paused for breath. "What I felt was genuine. It still is. Scott, I mean this, absolutely. I love you."

Just those words sucked the breath from my throat. I could feel myself choking up a bit as a few tears pooled in my eyes. "Connor... I... I can't say I'm ok with all of this. I'm definitely weirded out and it's going to take me a little time to figure this all out. But I will. Because the truth is I love you, too."

He leaned over, caressed my cheek, and kissed me. It was warm, slow, tender. As he pulled away, I was left, eyes closed and mouth open, reveling in the delight of that kiss.

"Ok, you keep kissing me like that," I said, breathily, "and it will take me a lot less time to get ok with your story." He laughed.

We turned to Nicole, who'd watched the whole scene, mostly forgotten. "Oh, sorry sis," I muttered.

"No, no, don't mind me at all," she said, skeptically. "Connor, I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with this. I think you had good motives, looking out for Scott, but you let your feelings get ahead of you. You could have hurt him, you know."

"I know, I know," he muttered. "I'm glad that I didn't."

"So am I," I agreed. "Nicole, you need to know, Connor has never hurt me. Totally the opposite. He's been a great boyfriend and a great friend."

"Alright, well, it seems you both got a bit lucky that this all worked out," Nicole concluded. "Connor, I don't want you to have the wrong idea. You're a good person, I've always thought that. I'm not surprised that you're a good friend and boyfriend. It's just the circumstances that are a little sketchy."

"I promise you, Nicole, I will be good to Scott," he said, solemnly.

She smiled. "Well, he did just tell me how awesome you are in bed," she said with a snort, "so I guess that's something."

Both my boyfriend and my sister stared at me, smirking, as I turned beet red.

*********************************************

Saturday after Thanksgiving:

Connor:

I turned the car onto the interstate and headed north, leaving behind Thanksgiving, Scott's parents, Nicole, and one of the weirdest weekends of my life. It would be pretty much a straight shot back to the university, and there wasn't all that much traffic on the road, so I settled into a modest speed and put on the cruise control.

"Couple of hours to go, buddy, but we'll be home soon," I said.

Scott nodded and smiled at me. "You survived my family. That's a good sign."

I laughed. "I think your dad's on my side. Your mom... man, I do not think she will ever get over hearing us having sex."

Scott snorted and replied, "I think you may be right there."

"Yeah, I think your mom just wants to be in denial." There was a long moment of silence before I added "As for your sister, I think the jury's still out where I'm concerned."

"She'll be fine. You surprised her. Hell, you surprised me," Scott said. "But I think she saw that what we have is good."

"I'm glad you're ok with it, Scott."

"I wish you had told me the whole story sooner, Connor." Scott's voice dropped to a whisper. "I mean, losing your best friend like that.... I can't even imagine how you felt." He looked at me, pained. "When I found that scar on your leg. You got that in the accident. And you didn't even tell me then."

I stared at the road, muted and a little embarrassed. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"What was it you said? 'It's an old wound, but it's healed'?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"I think you meant a lot more than physically healed."

There were tears welling in my eyes.

"Connor, did you mean me?"

I didn't answer Scott for what seemed to be forever. Finally I realized there was no point in denying it.

"Yes. Being with you, Scott, was... well, it was just right. I hadn't really felt like that since... well, since you know."

"Since Aidan," he finished. "I know I'm not the first guy you fucked since then."

I laughed and wiped a tear away. "No, that's true. You're not. But maybe you're the first one that was special."

There was little more to be said for a while. The miles stretched out behind us and ahead of us. The silence was comforting for a while, but soon became awkward.

"Do you think we did the right thing not telling your parents," I asked.

"About you and Nicole?" he asked, incredulously. "Uh, yeah, that would definitely have been a bad move. It would have taken us three hours to explain it, they still wouldn't have understood, and it would only have made things ten times more complicated."

I nodded. We fell silent a moment longer, and then started making idle conversation. What we needed to do when we got home, what the week would look like. I had a final project due that would take some library work; Scott had a paper and two exams.

It took a while, but finally I pulled the car into a spot behind the frat house. "We're home," I said.

Scott smiled at me. "Yes, we are." He jumped out of the car, went around to the back and popped the trunk. Hauling his bag onto his shoulder, he said "it's cold, come on, let's get inside." I grabbed my bag, closed the trunk, locked the car, and followed.

The frat was still pretty quiet. A couple of brothers were in the kitchen and dining room, and a couple more were hanging out in the living room watching football. "Hey Connor, hey Scott..." one of them greeted us. "Good weekend?"

"Yeah," I said, not stopping to engage. "Really good." He flashed us the thumbs up and went back to the game. Following Scott, I mounted the steps to the second floor and waited while he unlocked the door. Scott entered and dropped his bag, and then turned around behind the door. I entered, too, and dropped my bag. As soon as I was inside, Scott closed and locked the door.

With the sluttiest smile, he sauntered up to me and threw his arms around my neck. He kissed me, hotly, wetly, passionately. I kissed him back, resting my hands on his hips.

"Babe," he whispered, "I haven't touched you in days." Scott's hand slid down my side and gripped my cock through my grey sweats. He gently stroked me, and in seconds I was hard. "I need you, bad, Connor," he groaned. "Please, baby," he whispered, his lips brushing mine, "fuck me... Fuck me with your big, hard cock...."

How could I say no?

*********************************************

Late January:

Scott:

"I'm not sure I want to, Connor."

I snuggled into the crook of my boyfriend's arm. Connor was propped up on pillows in bed, naked but for his tight black briefs. I curled into his left side, resting my head on his chest and tracing circles in his chest hair with a fingertip.

Cold, bright light filtering in the single dormer window illuminated the bed. Outside, sheets of snow whipped past the window. We had moved out of Connor's cramped second floor single into a double on the top floor of the fraternity. The room offered more space, privacy, quiet, and a view of distant hills. Connor picked up a double-sized futon that made sleeping -- and sex -- far more comfortable. On the other hand, the poor insulation in the ceiling tested the best space heater and made for little comfort in winter. I pulled the down comforter up higher, keeping the heat of Connor's body in an envelope of comfort around us. The wind whistled and moaned outside as a wild February winter storm piled up snow on the roof, trees, and ground.

Over the past five months, I had passed many mornings -- and evenings -- just like this, wrapped warmly and lovingly around my friend and boyfriend. Connor always wrapped me in one strong, muscular arm, cuddling me close and safe. His other hand would often stroke my hair, shoulder, or face. And every now and then, he would tip my face up to his so that we could kiss. Slowly, firmly, passionately.

Our close embraces didn't always turn into sex, but more often than not, they did. We were both in a state of near-perpetual horniness. One or the other of us would feel the soft warmth of a kiss turn into arousal. Hands would wander, kisses turn passionate, and hips start to push against each other.

Or, as on this morning, I might slowly trace my hands down Connor's chest, then his abs, and gently into the elastic band of his briefs. Connor smiled as he felt my hand invade his crotch.

"And where are you going, hmm?" he whispered. He turned to see me smiling puckishly at him, eyes agleam with mischief.

"Oh, nowhere at all..." I chirped, sliding my hand over Connor's soft cock. It didn't stay soft long. Connor grunted as the blood surged into his organ. In thirty seconds, he was hard as steel.

"Hnnnuh..." he gasped. He turned on his side, bringing our faces together. "Yeah, right," he whispered, as he closed the distance and kissed me. My lips parted and Connor slid his tongue into the warm, wet, inviting space. Our tongues tangled and when we broke the kiss, I sighed in pleasure.

Connor leaned closer to my ear. "Fuck or make love?" he whispered.

I chuckled, thought a moment, and replied softly: "fuck."

And then I added, with a smirk: "hard."

Connor smiled, wickedly, as he lifted the blankets and rolled toward me. A gust of chilled air billowed under the covers, streaking across my skin, skin that was highly sensitive because of our growing arousal. The breeze chilled me to the bone, raising my body hair and creating goose bumps everywhere.

"Oh, sonuva..." I moaned. "It's fucking cold in this room!"

"Then let me warm you up, baby..." Connor breathed, menacingly. He shucked his briefs, tossing them over the side of the bed onto the floor. His cock, which caught on the elastic, slapped up loudly against his abs as he stripped naked and got ready to fuck me.

I stared at my now naked lover's very large cock. I loved feasting my eyes on Connor's well-endowed, thick, eight-and-a-half-inch shaft, dense pubes, and big balls. On most mornings, I would wake up, straddle Connor's hips, and ride him in my favorite position, cowboy. I'd paint Connor's chest with a hot load of sperm and keep riding until he emptied his balls into my guts.

We had, in fact, already done that today. This was going to be our second fuck of the morning.

I eyed Connor's hard, throbbing shaft hungrily, and lightly licked my lips. Connor caught the gesture and smiled.

"You like?"

"Fuck yeah, I like..." I replied.

Connor spread my legs around his hips, aimed his cock at my rosebud, and dropped two globs of spit on the head. He was ready to fuck my hole. "Hard?" he said, pressing the head at my anus.

"Oh, yeah..." I whispered. "Very."

Connor flipped his hips, and in one swift motion, plunged his cock into my guts. I groaned, loudly, as his huge sex organ thrust nearly halfway into me. He pulled back and shoved forward again, advancing another inch or so. Three more thrusts, and his hips crashed down on my ass. As he sheathed his raging tool deep inside, my legs rose and closed around his back.