“I-I don’t remember!” Oliver whimpered, “P-probably my ex-boyfriend, Ken, that was a long time ago. Just please, please fuck me! I need it!”
Jack released the grip on his hair and gripped Olly by the hips, slamming into him harshly. It only took three strokes before Oliver came, spurts of white cum decorating his chest and the carpet beneath him. Jack spanked his ass three times in quick succession, and the burn of pain bled beautifully into the afterglow of his orgasm.
Now, limp and relaxed, Oliver felt akin to a rag doll as Jack ploughed into him roughly, snapping back and forth and muttering the filthiest things in his rich, accented voice. It was a whirlwind of ecstasy and pleasure, and the aftershocks were making his head spin. Silver sparks flashed in his vision and he heard himself sobbing out a broken gasp, spreading his legs wider so Jack could ravage him more harshly. He wanted his hair to be pulled. He wanted his ass to be beaten. He wanted—he wanted—
All thought was driven from his head as Jack fucked him savagely, gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises. He’d never been taken this roughly before and Olly instinctively knew that tomorrow would be torture, that he’d be aching and sore and tired—but that was tomorrow. Today, he was having fantastic, mind-blowing sex with a rich, powerful man he hardly knew.
There was a stutter-step in Jack’s strokes, and then he buried himself in Oliver’s ass one last time. Olly wished that the latex wasn’t there for a split second, so he could feel the hot, sticky seed fill him up; but after a moment or two Jack withdrew and rolled to the side.
They both lay there, panting, sweaty and exhausted. Clothes were scattered around them and they could scarcely see each other in the low overhead lighting. The older man sat up, still panting, and looked down at Oliver, who looked blissed out, completely fucked, and nearly asleep already.
“Don’t sleep on the floor, c’mon,” Jack muttered, and pulled Oliver closer to him. They managed to get only a few steps, and collapsed on the soft velvet couch which easily held the two of them. Already Jack could feel the endorphins and adrenaline draining away, and the idea of returning home tomorrow was settling into a lead weight in his belly.
His wedding ring was still in his coat pocket. But he’d deal with that tomorrow. Right now, he could afford an hour or two of sleep before waking early and leaving Oliver behind.
[4]
Oliver woke up to the smell of velvet in his nostrils.
The scent and feeling triggered an automatic flood of panic and he sat up instantly. There was a groan next to him, and he pulled away, falling off the couch and onto his sore ass; it was the middle of the night. Someone had kindly flicked the lights off for them, and the whole lounge was in near darkness. Jack was obviously still asleep.
His heart was hammering and there was a sharp taste of bile in his mouth. Olly pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids and took a few deep, calming breaths.
Step one: recognize who you are.
He was Oliver Wheeler, bartender and part time student.
Step two: recognize where you are.
He was sitting naked in the private lounge of The Dollhouse, after an hour or two of amazing sex with a man he barely knew.
Step three: recognize any mistakes.
Slowly, he took stock. He’d never had a one night stand before, because relationships were important and not something to be thrown away. Not to mention that what had happened tonight had been completely new and actually sort of…wonderful. No more worries about the past, no more creeping doubts, just a strong man who could easily overpower him but chose not to. There was a thrill in that.
No, he hadn’t made a mistake by sleeping with Jack. The only mistake he’d made was sleeping on that stupid couch.
Shakily, the man got to his feet and felt around for his clothes. He found his jeans and tugged them on, and found Jack’s pants next. There was an expensive looking phone in his pocket, which was surprisingly unlocked, and Jack swiped through it for a second.
Impulsively, he tapped the screen. >> Add New Contact
He added his number, and then a note.
Call me. Let’s do this again.