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He leaned in and sucked on that rapidly beating pulse, his lips seeking out as much flesh as he could reach. He had a mind to reach for something else. To grab that scruffy jaw and turn Michaels to face him, to claim that mouth and taste those obscene moans. Loud, guttural moans, echoing off the hot shower walls, mixing with his own.
“I’m gonna come, Judge. Make me come, make me come, fuck, make me come.” Michaels’ voice was a carnal whisper. Lewd, but the way he said Judge’s name was… romantic. Michaels’ shoulders, back, legs; whole body was tense while his orgasm flooded him. Judge took hold of Michaels’ hand and pulled it off his cock, replacing it with his own. Another first in a very long time. He wanted to feel that hard, heavy cock pulse in his own hand, feel the man’s warm come run over his palm.
Judge worked his fist, pumping in time with Michaels’ pounding on his pelvis. He was still going, riding hard, bucking like a cowboy on a bull for his last few seconds. The thought of Michaels in assless chaps and a black Stetson riding the hell out Judge’s cock while he lay beneath him completely enraptured… Judge’s vision blurred. The visual had him coughing and grunting at how fast his load shot from his dick. “Oh, fuck!” His rhythm faltered while jerking Michaels off. His orgasm was raping the fuck out of him. Another jolt that made his toes curl, his come quickly filling the small cap of the condom.
“Yes, yes. I feel all that heat. Come inside me.”
Judge finally got his hips to move. He’d do anything to breed that stubborn ass right now. Fill it with his seed; make him wear it all night. These thoughts were so far beyond his usual. His gritty detective and that insatiable nasty mouth had him upside down. But he needed to feel him come, needed to pleasure him. He squeezed his fist around Michaels’ cock and surged forward, burying himself, squeezing the last reserves from his own shaft. That tight ass clutched him before he could catch his breath. Michaels’ hand was clasped over top of his, pulling fast on his cock. Taking his orgasm before Judge got too sensitive to fuck him any longer.
“Don’t stop. I’m coming, babe.”
Babe?
“Judge,” Michaels moaned, so sweetly.
Babe? He liked it. Liked it coming from him. He kept thrusting, his cock still erect, a bundle of over-sensitive nerves. Judge gritted his teeth. “Come!”
Michaels stiffened all over him, his back going ramrod straight and pressing into his chest. Judge’s hand was squeezed tight and he felt every vein, every beat; he felt that beautiful cock pump Michaels’ come all over their joined hands. It was so sensual. “Ohhhh, fuuuuck,” Michaels sang for him, over and over while he came. His throaty moan was the most delicious thing he’d ever heard. He dropped his forehead to rest on Michaels’ broad shoulder, casually licking and rubbing his wet beard across that fair skin while he pulled himself together and waited for Michaels’ ass to release his cock. Never in his damn life.
It was over. Both of them breathing heavy and hard against each other. Michaels slowly turned his face towards him and this time Judge didn’t move. Michaels’ breath panted against his cheek, his lips grazing so lightly across his beard. He wanted to turn into it, but… but. Michaels pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, causing his dick to twitch where it was happily still buried inside its heaven. Judge saw the satisfied smirk on Michaels’ face when he turned away and eased his body from where it was joined with his.
Michaels didn’t look back as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped one of the bright white towels around his lean hips, leaving the bathroom without even a glance in his direction. Judge put his fist against his closed eyes and pushed against the tension. Questions that he hadn’t bothered to ask himself in years swirled around in his chest, landing with an uncomfortable thud in his gut. Had he made it good for him? Did Michaels’ like him? He sounded like a lovesick little girl. Judge didn’t do love, he didn’t do romance. He was over forty for shit’s sake. That ship had sailed and gone. Michaels was in his early thirties, in his prime. A strong, virile stallion. What the hell would he want with Judge and his old grouchy ways? Right? He was more than ten years his senior. Judge’s eyes widened at that reality. Augh.
Shaking his head in annoyance, he pulled the condom off and flushed it down the toilet. He wet one of the washrags and carefully cleaned himself up. He put the lube in the drawer under the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, thinking it was time to clip his beard. Judge sighed. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t know if he was delaying going back in the room and facing Michaels’ sexy stare, or maybe he feared it would be a disappointed stare. It was more like he was taking the time to convince himself that there had been no feelings involved with what they’d just done. They’d fucked, that was it. That’s what he did, and with whomever he liked. The hot detective was just another one. In a few days, he wouldn’t ever see him again. Judge frowned. He didn’t like it. Oh hell.
