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Twenty minutes later, Joq had Chris’ dick in his mouth, two fingers sliding in and out of him, and Chris writhing and panting above him.
“Give me a minute,” Chris arched away.
“You don’t like to get fucked after you’ve come?” Joq asked as he rolled his hips on the bed, grinding his cock against the mattress to get some relief.
“No, I,” Chris held Joq’s hair in a vice grip to keep him off his dick and Joq swore he swallowed down what he was about to say. “No, I like to come during.”
“Hmm,” Joq replied, gave him a minute.
“Okay,” Chris spread his legs wider, loosened his grip.
Joq slid in deeper with his fingers, massaged him there.
Chris pushed into it with a gasp.
Joq took in the lean lines of him, stretched out and covered in a thin sheen of sweat; just from a couple of fingers and a mouth on his dick.
He slid his fingers out, came up onto his knees between Chris’ thighs and reached for a condom near his hip. He stroked Chris’ stomach, over his chest, rolled a nipple between his forefinger and thumb as he rolled the condom on with his other hand.
“You alright there?” he asked as he stroked himself. He was desperate to fuck him, aching for it like he hadn’t in over a year, possibly two, but Chris seemed to be hypersensitive, so he did his best to patient.
“Yeah,” Chris cracked his eyes open. “Like this?”
“You’re the one about to get fucked,” Joq replied, already leaning down to line himself up. “How do you like it?”
He pushed so just the tip was inside.
“Jesus,” Chris breathed out harshly. “I want, maybe,” he pulled back and rolled himself over like it was a real effort.
Joq couldn’t help his laughter. “You gonna be alright?”
Chris propped himself up on his knees and reached back for Joq, crashing their lips together. Joq rocked into the crack of his ass.
“Yeah,” Chris rolled his hips back against Joq’s dick. “Feels deeper like this.”
Joq nudged him until he fell back onto his hands.
He pushed in, slid to the hilt and stayed there.
“Okay?” he asked. It was heaven.
“Yeah, yes, fuck, don’t go easy on me.”
“Jesus,” Joq gripped him by the hips, drew all the way out, then slammed back in.
Chris met him, rolling his hips back into each thrust, moaning as he gripped the sheets. His dick slapped loudly against his stomach and Joq’s hips smacked into his ass almost violently but Chris urged him on with a hand on his hip, a litany of “more, yes, please,” coming out of him as Joq fucked him harder, taking them both right to the edge.
He reached under, gripped him, jerked him off until Chris was tightening around him, his deep groan pressed into the sheets.
Joq managed to get him all the way there before he had to let go. He draped himself over Chris’ back, mouthed at his shoulder as he buried himself deep and started to come, muffling his sounds into Chris’ skin.
When he came down, Chris was patting his head. His body vibrated lightly and Joq realised he was laughing.
“What?” Joq asked.
“Nothing, just, that was good, and,” he rocked back, “and you’re still in me.”
“Shit, sorry,” Joq sat up, but stayed where he was. He ran a hand through his hair and rocked into Chris’ body; his dick still half hard. It felt nice.
