Bankers' Hours(49)

I gasped and held my breath again as the pain intensified.

"Breathe, Grant," he urged, kissing my neck, my ear, and my jaw.

He pressed in again, but it hurt less. Tristan moved slowly but  rhythmically, in and out; he filled me with himself, and as he slid his  arms around my body to hold me tight, I found my breath. "Tristan," I  rasped. I whimpered and cooed, running my hands up and down his back,  the motion between us so powerfully vivid it was as if lightning jolted  all my nerve endings from the inside out.

"So tight. You're so fucking tight, Grant. I'm not …  going to …  last." He grunted as he thrust.

I came in white-hot waves. The electricity dancing through my body  exploded through my cock, spilling my emotion through cum, sweat, and  tears. I held on to Tristan as he growled and jerked his hips, jutting  hard into my ass one last time as he collapsed on me, panting.

After a few moments, as our breathing slowed to normal, Tristan pulled  back and slipped from my body to remove the condom. He tossed it in the  trash can and then collapsed on his back next to me, eyes closed.

My legs were difficult to unbend after being over his shoulders, but the  soreness in my thighs and calves was nothing to the throb in my ass. My  orgasm fading, the sharp agony of being penetrated returned with a  vengeance. But as soon as I reconsidered what I had insisted he do,  Tristan whispered those three words that made the pain worth it.                       
       
           



       

"I love you," he whispered.

I was already crying, tears streaming down my face from the raw emotion  my orgasm produced, yet fresh tears warmed my cheeks as I curled into  him. I pressed my sticky body to his, tucking my face next to his neck.  Tristan hugged me and caressed my arm. Whether produced by postcoital  euphoria or genuine emotion, I knew I had to say it in return.

"I love you too."

His arms tightened around me, and then moments later he was snoring  quietly. I closed my eyes and continued to cry as I fell asleep in his  arms.





I WOKE up sometime later on my side, with Tristan wrapped around me. We  had shifted positions in our sleep, but he had not let go of me. His  arms were around my back and mine were curled between my chest and his.  His legs were tangled with mine. The sticky-wet mix of sweat and cum,  slick between us, made me long for a shower, but I didn't want to move.  Instead, I kissed his collarbone and then his throat.

Tristan stirred. "Mmm," he murmured.

I ran my tongue up his Adam's apple and then nipped with my teeth.

He let out a throaty chuckle and rolled over me. His smile was  debauched, and he kissed me deeply, holding nothing back. One of his  legs was between mine, and he nudged me with his knee. Tristan took  ahold of my hands and held them above my head as he lifted up to gaze  down at me. He licked his teeth and said, "Take a shower with me."

He jumped off the bed suddenly, but his smile was bright and mischievous. He waved me to follow. "Come on."

I got off the bed, but not quickly. My ass hurt. My body hurt. My legs  wobbled as if I was using them for the first time after being in a  hospital bed for a year. I glanced at the clock. It was 5:09 p.m. Where  had the day gone?

From the look in his eyes, I thought we would do more in the shower, but  all he did was wash me from head to foot. Maybe he's not into shower  sex? He stroked soapy fingers over my asshole several times and even  pushed one digit in, but it was obvious he wasn't trying to get me off.  He was cleansing me of our lovemaking evidence, and some little part of  me was sad. I liked the feeling of what we'd done, even if I hurt all  over.

Tristan washed himself quickly, and I found the courage to lean in and  lick his nipples. He'd done it to me several times, and I'd liked it;  now I wanted to feel his nipples in my mouth. He groaned and grabbed my  back as I nipped him. I kissed my way up to his neck and pressed my body  tightly to his. "I want you," I whispered in his ear before sucking on  the lobe. "I want you again."

I wasn't sure where the hunger came from, but it was taking over my good  sense. Good sense said, "Rest awhile, maybe for days," but hunger had a  louder voice, and that voice said, "Sex. Now. Fuck. Me. Please." I made  sure he understood how badly I wanted him by dropping to my knees and  taking his ample cock into my mouth. Well, only the first few inches-the  dang thing was too large for me to swallow whole. I needed more  practice.

Tristan groaned and held the back of my head as I bobbed, but after a  moment he pulled back. "Stop," he said. "Let's go back to bed. I want to  try something. I think it will help soothe the pain in your ass."

I stood up and gave him a look. "How did you know?"

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "Really? You're going to pretend that  what I did left no residual effects? I heard you crying out, Grant. I  thought I was ripping you in half."

"Then why didn't you stop?"

"I was only about halfway in. I didn't think I'd hurt you permanently, but I know that wasn't easy for you."

I kissed his chest and neck, needing to touch him. In fact, I wasn't  sure how I'd ever pull myself away after this. "No, it hurt a lot." I  looked him in the eyes. "But I still want you to do it again. I need you  to do it again."

He kissed me and smiled. "Then I will," he announced, turning off the  water. "Dry off and bring the towel so your splooge doesn't get all over  the bed."

I followed him in, and Tristan asked me to get on the bed. "On your hands and knees this time."

"But I like watching you," I said, pouting.

"You'll like this," he said with a wink. He got behind me and rubbed my  ass with both hands. "Try to relax, okay? I promise I'm not using a  dildo or a butt plug, nothing artificial. Just my fingers and my … ." He  paused, long enough for me to get curious and crane my neck to look at  him, and then he finished, wickedly adding, "tongue."

My eyes bugged out. "Tongue?" I asked as he dove in. Just like there was  no comparison for what it felt like to be fucked for the first time by a  dick the size of a medieval cudgel, there were also no words to express  how it felt to have his hot, slick tongue probing my asshole. For one  thing, I had never known how sensitive my sphincter was. I began  babbling incoherently as my stomach turned to goo and my arms gave out. I  fell forward, my face on the pillow and my ass in the air. I couldn't  see him, because I had no strength to keep my eyes open, but I imagined  his face was buried in my ass. I felt the scrape of teeth, which told me  he was opening wide so he could press his tongue in as far as he could  reach. He stretched my hole with his fingers or thumbs-I couldn't  tell-but nothing hurt as he laved my hole, my crack, and even the skin  from my balls all the way back up.                       
       
           



       

I thought I would melt into a puddle on the bed from the pleasure, and  then suddenly he stopped. Cold lube ran down my crack. Tristan gasped  and croaked, "I can't stand it, Grant. I need to fuck you." He was  panting harder than I was.

I hardly had time to consider what he'd said before he pressed in. Yes,  that was his cudgel sinking inside me, impossibly deep, painfully wide.  My breath hitched as I held it, paralyzed by the sensation of being  split in two.

Tristan groaned as he caressed my ass. "So tight."

I cried out as he pulled out and pushed back in. It felt deeper than the  first time, and his pleasure rumbled down his chest and into my skin.  Out. In. Deeper again. Something slapped against me, and I realized only  after it happened again that it was his balls. That meant he was all  the way in this time. Tristan was giving me all nine and a half inches,  and I was taking it.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Relax and enjoy it." He moved his  hands all over my backside, back, and thighs. "You feel so good."

It definitely hurt, but my heart swelled, feeling proud of myself for  being man enough to take something so large up the ass. My ass. He was  also thrusting harder than the first time, and God, he was hitting  something inside that sent other sensations through my body. Sensations  that told me to jerk myself right the fuck now because I needed to come  or die.

I lifted up on one hand and took care of my need. As I finished, Tristan  yanked my hips backward and growled like a grizzly bear as he jutted  forward one last time.





THE NEXT morning, I could barely walk.





I STOPPED by Tristan's shop on the way home from work. He'd said the  exterminator had given the all clear as far as his earwig infestation  was concerned, but Will wasn't coming in until Friday, just to make  sure. His paranoia had to do with getting the little buggers inside his  clothes while crawling under a car to retrieve something he'd dropped.  Tristan couldn't blame him.