Tag-along

I will say this for Lindsey - she doesn't embarrass me intentionally. So when she walked in on us there was no acting shocked or razzing. She just said 'hi' and 'how're you doing?' to him like a normal person, and left it at that. Although I got a certain amount of follow-up when the two of us were downstairs in the garage trying to find the trimmer.

"Gawd, you sure punch above your weight, Jezza..." she muttered, elbowing me.

I ignored her, and she continued;

"And I would say you know how to pick 'em, but in this case it was me who picked him. So do I get a finder's fee, eh?" Another elbow to the ribs. Ugh. Sisters...

I was jerked back to the present as everybody else around the table started packing up their shit and standing. As usual we had run over time, and it was after five.

On the train and rocking away northward through the maze of tracks around the dockside area, I pulled out my phone to discover that Quinn had replied to my query 'when's it gonna be my turn?' - about ten minutes ago, probably just before hopping on his bike for the ride home.

~your the boss~ the first little bubble said, followed a minute later by;

~on this occasion anyway~

You're the boss...I felt something surge in me. I don't buy in to all that conquest and domination bullshit, but realistically, sex works better with one person leading and one following - and I wanted to lead. On this occasion anyway. I thought about it for the whole journey, eyes closed, immune to the babel of humanity pressing in around me.

He'd be home before me, I knew. He always was, with his vastly more efficient mode of transport. I'd given him a key weeks ago, so he'd be inside when I got there. Inside reading my texts back to himself, maybe? Or maybe his replies...?

I turned into the driveway, pacing fast, buoyed up by want. His bike wasn't there.

My mind unravelled in an instant, every thread of thought unspooling into a tangle of panic, ugly bloody scenes leaping up behind my eyelids...

Hold up, said reason, shoving its way to the front of my consciousness. Hold up a moment, Jeremy. If the highway is actually closed, then he can't get through any more than anybody else can. Or cross the centre barrier and take an alternate route any more than anybody else can.

Right. Yeah. I fumbled for my phone and opened the journeys app. There were no closures, no black lines of absolute cloggage showing anywhere in the region. Not much orange even. A good day for getting places. Unless you're Quinn.

I took a deep breath, and then another, and called his number. No answer. It seemed like...maybe this was a time for voicemail?

"Um, hey?" I cleared my throat to ease the squeakiness. "I, um...are you okay? Just wondering where you are, is all. I mean...you're usually here before me..."

And of course I didn't specify where 'here' is, I realised after I hung up. Never mind. He'll figure it out. If he...no. Not even going there. I let myself in, dumped my jacket and laptop bag on the kitchen counter, walked to the window seat and made myself focus on the rhythms and the motions of the waves.

My phone buzzed. ~be there in 10~

Thank god. The tension unravelled all at once, replaced by so much relief that I felt shaky and sick in its wake - but it'd passed by the time I heard the front door latch click open.

"Where the hell have you been, mister?" I wagged a playful finger at him.

He laughed. "Worried I'd bailed on you, eh?"

"Or fallen off your bike, maybe?"

His amusement evaporated. "Shit. Sorry to put you through that, man. The thing is...I went back to mine first, but yeah...did you really want me to text you that I'd be late because I was taking the most thorough shower in all of recorded history?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, I'm not sure where you'd find the emojis for that..."

"Ahh, fuck you!!" he spat, though his mouth was quirking at the corners.

"Ohh no," I told him. "Nuh-uh. No. Not this time."

His blush was as gorgeous as the sunset starting to stain the sky out the window to my left, and I wrapped him in my arms.

"So-oo," I teased, "so apparently I'm the boss, but it was Quinn who decided he wanted to get fucked right now, tonight...?"

"We can always not..." he mumbled into my shoulder.

Taking a handful of his hair, I urged him free of his hidey-hole, forced him to meet my eyes.

"But I think we will," I breathed. "I think we will."

I kissed him then, without releasing my hold on his locks, tugging back further so his face was upturned, using my additional height to bear down slightly and insist he concede space to me...

Not that I had to insist very hard. He was all putty, open and yielding, all panting and big pleading eyes when I drew back a moment, and I realised he was in that zone, that place I'd been so recently - ready to offer himself. But I wanted to hear him confess it...

I ran my free hand down his back, over an arse-cheek, spreading the fingers wide. I have big hands but they weren't sufficient to cup him. So much man...ahh, what the hell...I released his hair so my other hand could join the party.

"You gonna let me have this?" I whispered, squeezing, lifting. "You want me all the way inside you, sweet boy?"

All I got for an answer was a chopped salad of syllables. Yeah...so ready.

I had him stripped and arranged face down on the sheets in record time - fast enough to disorientate. And then...I paused. Maybe - partly? - for payback, but mostly to let the delicious anticipation spread. God, I never tire of this particular sight...a whole man, laid out ready and waiting for me, the vee of his legs and the hollow of his spine like runway lights, pointing the way...

And this whole man was Quinn. I mounted the bed and draped myself over him, making as much contact as possible, glorying in every inch of skin melding with skin, inhaling his essential scent, letting him feel my weight before filling him full of myself.

I wove a hand back into his hair and dragged his head more to the side, his right ear directly under my hovering lips.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I whispered, "so big and brawny and...god, I have no idea how I got lucky enough to have you in my bed, but let me tell you gorgeous boy...you are about to really feel just how hot you make me."

All the way down his back, down the very centre, I kissed and laved, and when I reached that darkly furred furrow at the base, I kept on going, holding the cleft open by biting my thumbs into the dense mass of his cheeks.

As my tongue found its target, making the first tiny circular sweep about his pucker, I heard him weakly mutter 'ohchrist'. Yes, I thought, let's have more...more of that. But he was silent again, toes doing the talking instead - his left foot lay against my calf as I bent double making a meal of him. Curling, uncurling, burrowing into the mattress, turning toward me, retreating away. I knew what he was going through. The feeling - it's way too much, but nonetheless something in you keeps calling out, reaching for it...

Time. Time now. I knelt up, wrapped up, shuffled forward in a plank from the knees, braced on one arm. I heard a single sharp intake of breath as he parted around me, a tiny protesting grunt on the exhale.

"Easy, bo," I whispered, "easy there. You've got this..."

Another grunt, this one of agreement, and I saw his shoulders drop as the tension drained away. He lay still under me as I lowered myself, once again matching my outline to his, and wove his fingers through mine, gripping hard as I unapologetically bore down, not attempting to hold any of my own weight. He was heavier than me, much heavier, but it was my substance that mattered right now, my kilos he was feeling, for as long as I decided he'd feel them...

Or not, haha...the mattress was plenty forgiving, so I knew when he started subtly squirming under me that it wasn't discomfort, but a signal to get fucking...

I thought - he was asking for it, after all - I thought he was relaxed, but I guess there's relaxed and relaxed. Maybe five minutes in he just really gave it all up, every muscle slackening so that the force of my thrusts rippled out unimpeded from the centre, and oh fuck, he jiggled with it...

I knew every inch of his body by now, and though he certainly wasn't cut there were no wobbly bits. The jiggle. was coming. from me.

My head spun with the realisation, the power of it. "Oh god, you're everything," I groaned. Everything, and so much of it...

By the time I turned him he'd made a palm-sized wet patch on the mattress already, but there'd be more where that came from...such a leaky boy, generous with his gifts. Everything and so-so much of it...

Although...one very minor downside to all his divine bulk was that he wasn't especially flexible. Pushing his knees to his chest might snap something, so I knelt instead, sitting back on my heels, drawing him toward me, along my thighs. His legs linked around my waist, I ground and flexed my hips, stirring him up inside as he loosely palmed his dick...

His face, god. His face. The unfocussed expression...he was way gone. I love that look - lost, confused - that what's-happening-to-me? face. I'm fucking you, baby. That's what's happening to you...

A slightly more upward tilt of my hips and his eyes momentarily widened in surprise, a tiny moan escaping. I tried it again, and his free hand jerked about like it was on a puppeteer's string, first clutching the sheets, then dragging across his forehead, tugging on his hair.

Now I'd found my angle, I was forcing out a sobbing groan with every single thrust, and the wandering hand had stalled, fastened over his mouth in an ineffectual attempt to mask the sound. I upped my efforts, loving the clinging suction of him surrounding me, as muscular inside as out, revelling in the incoherent symphony he was still trying - and failing - to stifle.

I leaned forward and gently tugged his hand away from his face. "Don't hold it in, baby..."

Nothing but a beseeching stare in return, helpless and hungry...

"I love your noises," I told him breathlessly, resuming my jabbing. "They're so good - Let them out - Let me hear..."

Let them out, let them out, let go for me, let it all go...

I was so engrossed in the spectacle of Quinn dissolving under the fuck, too much pleasure to handle and more building every second, that I all but forgot about my own. But I remembered in a big way once he started to cum, rhythmically clamping down around me in the sweetest of strangleholds as he spilled thickly out over his chest and abdomen...

So strong, so strong, yet so weak for me; the perfect combination. Grabbing his wrists, I pulled him in and held on hard as I unloaded, buried deep as I could go - watching him react to it, read the message in those little flickering pulses all the way inside...

His face was a riot of delight and astonishment. "Oh my god, Jeremy," he whispered groggily, as I unhooked his legs and lay down beside. "I felt it. I actually felt it when you..."

A little groggy myself, I just nodded. Uh-huh, that's how it...wait, what?

He reddened under my suddenly sharpened gaze. "Yeah, okay. Busted. I hadn't...done it...that way around before..."

Ohhhh, my fuck... "Jesus, Quinn!" I hissed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ummm...I just did?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

A sigh, then a pause. "Because."

"Because...?"

"Because. Look, I just...I didn't want it to be a big deal, okay?"

Okay. Alright. I got it. I did get it. Probably I even felt the same, way back when...like, let's not make things any more awkward than they absolutely need to be...but seen from this side of the equation, from where I was now?

I took his face in my hands. "Baby, it is a big deal. It is."

He nodded, still confined between my palms, and I could a discern a grin fighting to break free at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, I get that - now. Because...Jeremy...you have turned me into a whore..."

I felt cold, suddenly - inside, not out. Damn. Shit. Fuck.

But if I insisted on hoarding all this goodness to myself I'd be the worst kind of jealous dickhead, so I stroked his cheek gently with my thumb, forced a smile to my face, kept my voice light.

"Well, just make sure you stay safe out there, eh, lil' whore..."

He blinked, then frowned. His hand flashed up to envelop my caressing fingers, clutch them hard.

"What!? What are you..." His grip slackened a fraction. "As if I...Jeremy. C'mon. I'm yours, man. If you'll have me, that is."

I was warm again, instantaneous soft candlelight warm. Melty. I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, I'll have you. Definitely"

Quinn caught the meaning and laughed - I felt the vibration of it through our still-tangled limbs.

"Ha, bold words! You're not getting it all your own way from here on in, Jeremy. I'll have you too. Definitely and regularly."

I hugged him to me, the whole of him, nuzzling into his neck. Small price to pay. Totally worth it. Definitely.

"So how does this work, you think?" I asked a minute later, as I watched a tiny jumping spider making an erratic track across the ceiling. "Do we take turns? Do we make a schedule? Do we...arm wrestle for it...run a forfeit system...what?"

He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at me, face still glowing with just-fucked joy.

"Ahh, don't you get it, Jeremy? It's all about who asks first..."