Challenge #8 – Anything at all

Today’s challenge is to write about anything at all. How free! Except I really struggled to come up with a topic to write about. After a few weeks of being dictated to, I found myself a little lost without a topic. Therefore, I bring to you another piece of flash fiction, just under 600 words. I hope you enjoy.

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Andrew settled between Matt’s legs, face close to an already leaking erection, trailed sure fingers along Matt’s thighs, teasing, a promise.

“C’mon,” Matt whined, canting his hips up.

He exhaled heavily against sensitive skin, but when Matt tipped himself towards Andrew’s open mouth, he drew back. “What do you say?”

Matt huffed, disbelieving. “Please?”

“Please… what?” Andrew knew he was testing the waters, Matt still shy most nights when it was just the two of them, but he was hoping the gamble would pay off.

“Touch me?” Matt squirmed.

With firm hands, Andrew gripped Matt’s thighs, let his fingers dig in. “Be specific. Ask for what you want.” He glanced up when he said this, sought Matt’s face, wanted to read the reaction there, and he was really fucking glad he did. Matt’s face turned pink and he bit his lip against a whimper – an honest to God whimper. For its part, Matt’s cock also lurched, precome oozing out thickly.

“I… please, suck my cock.”

Immediately Andrew opened his mouth and took his partner in as far as he could, deep down to the base, pushing the head back along the smooth surface. Matt gripped fingers in his short hair and Andrew felt the lust pool in his belly and groin. He knew he could do this all night, could spend hours sucking Matt off, but tonight he wanted to hear him beg. He pulled the cock out of his mouth slowly, trailed his hands and tongue down, down, to Matt’s ass. He pushed him apart slowly with fingertips and then dipped his tongue down and pressed in.

Matt gasped a little, moaned, pushed towards it.

“Yeah?” Andrew asked darkly. He ran his tongue along the sensitive flesh and then pulled away.

“What the fuck?”

“You know what.”

Matt groaned. “Christ, please. Use your tongue on me. On my ass.”

Andrew pressed his face close, licked along Matt’s rim, each pass pressing his tongue in harder. He began to press Matt open with his fingers, and something in Matt must have unraveled because he finally started talking.

“God, yes. Fuck me open with your fingers. Please. Wanna feel them inside of me. I—” Matt stuttered.

Andrew had slipped a second finger inside of him, licking around his fingers, pressing his hot tongue between them.

“Yeah. Please… don’t… so… ungh fuck close. Please… want you deeper. Harder,” he gasped, hips bucking up.

Andrew pressed a third finger in hard, lapping at Matt’s entrance, hungry for more.

“So close, gonna… gonna come… please, can’t wait much longer, wanna feel you, please… just… fuck me.”

Quickly, he pulled his fingers and tongue out, lined his cock up, and pushed in. He was kneeling between Matt’s legs, hands gripping narrow, sweaty hips.

Now that he’d started, Matt couldn’t seem to stop talking. “Yeah, fuck, so good, harder, fuck me harder.” He lifted his legs to wrap around Andrew’s waist and kept talking. “So good, please, almost there… Gonna…”

Andrew slid one hand over and gripped Matt, stroking him deftly, one, two, three, quick movements. A flick of the wrist, a press of thumb into the sensitive spot at the crown, and Matt was coming in thick, hot, white spurts. Watching Matt come undone so thoroughly tipped Andrew over the edge, and he fucked into Matt hard and stilled, emptying himself.

As his orgasm subsided, he began to pull out, but Matt tightened the grip of his legs, a smile teasing on his face. “No… stay another minute. Please? Kiss me?”

Andrew folded forward and pressed his mouth to Matt’s.

Four by Flash #5 – Not Him

Happy New Year! Here’s a piece I wrote during the flash fiction challenge, and specifically as a Kink Bingo fill for the word “silence.” Hope you enjoy!

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Michael smiles at the man as his lips wrap languidly around a beer bottle. The stranger is tall and tan, long hair falling into blue-green eyes. The similarities end there, proportions off, not tall enough, muscle and bone sloping in ways that are unfamiliar and wrong. He likes it. Michael takes his time on the bottle, playing it up, and when he returns it to the bar empty, he winks, drops a bill on the counter, and slides off his stool. He walks away confident that by the time he hits the back door, he’ll be followed. He isn’t wrong.

The guy clears his throat as they step into the alley, and Michael turns, smiles, nods.

“I, uh,” the stranger starts.

Michael is on him, shoving roughly against the cool brick, pinning him there with hips, hands, and mouth. The stranger groans, pushes back with his groin. That’s all the encouragement he needs before he shoves his hands down to the guy’s pants, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping. He draws back, catching his breath, and the stranger decides to talk.

“I’m Jared,” he laughs shakily.

Michael grunts a response and latches his mouth on Jared’s neck, sucking and biting a bruise.

“How about you?” Jared’s squirming, a low moan rumbling in his chest.

Michael’s wrapped his hands around the guy’s cock now, and it’s leaking, precome oozing out heavily. He slip-slides his thumb through it, strokes the guy steadily. “Don’t wanna talk. Wanna fuck you.” The cock in his hand surges in agreement, and Jared thrusts into Michael’s hand.

Jared nods, exhales hard, and his hands go for Michael’s belt and fly, pushing jeans down to his knees.

When they’re both exposed, Michael takes the time to kiss the guy again, grinding his bare cock against Jared’s. Maybe some other night, under some other circumstances, he’d take this guy home, take his time, do things right. Not tonight. Things are different these days. He tears open the package he’s palmed, slides the slick condom on, and pushes away.

The guy turns, pressing hands to rough brick. Michael lines himself up and just before he thrusts in, he hisses, “Not a fucking sound.” Jared whimpers quietly and nods.

With that, Michael’s inside him, biting his lip against a groan, and he sets a punishing pace, unsure of just who the punishment is really for. His thrusts are hard, pelvis pressing flat against ass each time, and he lets himself focus on the way the stranger’s hair falls into his face, the way sweat trickles down the strong, tan back despite the chill, the tiny, whimpering noises Jared is trying to suppress.

Michael leans forward, wraps a hand around Jared’s cock as he feels the heat pool tight in his groin, strokes expertly with the abundant slick there. Jared groans quietly and comes on Michael’s hand, hot and thick, and Michael follows right after.

As he comes, the only thought that pounds through his head is Not Jake, not Jake, not Jake.