Page 42 of Only Time Will Tell

Mental peptalk aside, I pressed my tip of my cock against his hole a pressed, slipping right inside. I glanced up, Alex nodded for me to go ahead. I guessed he really had been prepping himself. Fully seated inside him, his tight channel felt like a vise around my cock. If I even dare move it’d be game over.

I paused long enough to get a grip while he adjusted. A few moments later Alex opened his eyes. “Now, fuck me, Charlie.”

Pulling back, I left only the tip in then drove back inside him. No wonder he enjoyed topping me, this was fantastic. Watching my dick disappear inside him had me in a trancelike state.

In and out.

Fuck.

In and out.

Faster I went, forgetting about that magic button I so loved until he shouted, “Fuck! Do that again.”

I adjusted my angle, hitting it again, but now that I’d found it, I knew there was nothing I could do to stave the overpowering release that had me teetering on the edge. Watching his face, listening to his moans. All of which served to enhance the release I so desperately wished to hold back.

“Not…gonna…last…” I warned.

“Not…alone…” he panted.

In and out.

Skin slapping.

In and out.

Pounding.

Thrusting.

Why did these words have to torment me? “Fuck!” I screamed as he clinched around me, and that was my undoing.

“Charlie!” he wrapped his legs around me, fucking himself as hard as he could on my cock as he came.

I collapsed on top of him, not the ideal spot to be but I was too tired to care. We can shower later. Alex rubbed my back, soothing me into nothingness. We stayed like that longer than we should’ve given I had to peel us apart to get up.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Hell yeah, no wonder you never complain. When you hit my prostate, I saw spots and it amped shit up.”

“Right? Topping is nothing to complain about either. Maybe next time I’ll last longer.”

“Game on, baby!”

Chapter Thirteen

Alex

Our Honeymoon

In typical Alex-Charlie fashion, we overslept and damn near missed our plane. Running to the gate, I handed Charlie his boarding pass, having printed it out at the kiosk just in case.

“Los Angeles? Really? We’re going to LA? Are you at least taking me to Disneyland?” He asked, handing the impatient ticket agent his pass to scan.

“No Charlie, we’re not going to LA. We are only changing planes there,” I said, and left it at that. I was tired, we were late, and I needed a freaking drink. I didn’t care what time of day it was. Shortly after takeoff, I was happily sipping an orange juice and vodka.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me where we’re going then I’m going back to sleep,” he pouted before turning to face the window.

“Sounds great to me.” Wow, this honeymoon was not starting off as I’d envisioned. Hopefully little mister pissy pants will sleep the entire the two-and-a-half-hour flight. And thank fuck he did, waking with a much better attitude.