Want to say a quick thank you to everyone who has been following and reviewing. Even though it's only a handful of you guys, the fact that people actuallylike my work is enough to keep me writing. And I see every fav, follow, review etc. so thank you guys so much! I hope to be able to continue writing.
This is my first time in a long time trying to write something with more mature content. It's small but it's a start. Let me know if there are any ways I can improve it.
Pete squinted and tried to make out the view before him. He could feel the blood rushing to his head but he didn't move. "I'm bored!" He complained, dragging out the words unnecessarily.
Stan turned from his desk, where he was working on an essay, and looked over at Pete. He was laying horizontally across Stan's bed with his head hanging off the edge. "Your face is turning red." He said.
Pete sat right side up and huffed. "Entertain me. I'm bored."
Stan raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you suppose to be working on your poem?"
Pete looked at the black notebook he had discarded on the other side of the bed and glared. "Writer's block." He seethed with irritation.
Stan smirked mischievously. He knew exactly what Pete needed. He rolled his chair over to the edge of the bed. "We could play a game." He suggested.
"A game?" Pete echoed unimpressed.
"Yeah." Stan grinned. "It's called Red Rocket."
Pete was still unimpressed. "Sounds stupid."
"Oh, trust me, you'll like it." Stan said as he stood from his chair and push it back out of the way. "It's fun. My friends and I use to play it with my dog." He climbed onto the bed.
"Your dog?" Pete questioned still not convinced.
"Mmm-hmm." Stan hummed as he straddled Pete and kissed him, effectively cutting off any more questions.
Pete gave into the kiss immediately, too preoccupied to question it. Stan kissed him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth. The familiar wet sensation drew a moan from the back of Pete's throat. It hummed through the kiss as Stan's tongue roamed all over. Pete wrapped his arms around Stan's neck and pulled him closer. Their lips pressed together even more.
Stan pulled away first, leaving Pete panting for air. "This was the game you played with your dog?" He asked between breaths.
Stan laughed. "No. This is more of…a pregame."
Pete was so confused but then Stan was kissing him again and it didn't really matter.
Stan shifted as he trailed wet kisses down Pete's neck. Pete groaned and Stan could feel his hardening length press into his thigh. He smirked into Pete's neck.
Stan sat back and tugged at Pete's shirt. "Don't want to get this dirty." He said as he removed it. Then went on to unbutton Pete's pants.
"What are you- mmm…aahhh…" Pete's question was cut short by his moans as Stan griped his half hard member.
Stan pushed Pete's shoulder gently to lay him back. Leaning forward he attached himself to Pete's neck once again as he began a slow, pumping, rhythm with his hand. Stan licked and sucked all over Pete's neck leaving several possessive marks, biting down particularly hard at Pete's collarbone.
"Ohhh, fuck." Pete groaned as he arched into it. Stan knows he likes a bit of pain.
Pete was panting hard and Stan felt him grow fully erect in his palm. He pulled away from Pete's neck and picked up the pace with his hand, squeezing harder. Pete moaned out. Any coherent thought gone as his brain registers only pleasure. God, Stan's hand should not feel this good. Pete begins to buck into it, matching Stan's pace. Stan, in turn, pumped faster and nibbled on Pete's ear. Pete just moaned, alternating between chants of 'Oh, god.' and 'Stan.'
Pete is lost in the pleasure as his orgasm begins to coil in his abdomen. Stan knows he's close and pumps as hard and fast as he can. Pete gripped tightly onto Stan's shirt, his hips stuttering to keep up with Stan's pace.
Stan breathes low and huskily into Pete's ear, biting back his own moans. "Red rocket. Red rocket. C'mon, Pete. Cum for me."
That sends him over the edge. Pete cries out loudly as his orgasm crashes over him like a wave. His limbs spasm and his sticky seed pulses out in warm ribbons coating his chest along with Stan's hand.
Pete lays there for a moment trying to catch his breath. He watches as Stan brings his hand up and licks it clean. The act causes a shudder to run down Pete's spine.
He throws his arm over his eyes, closing them as he enjoys the tingling afterglow of his orgasm. "Are you telling me you and your friends use to jack off your dog?" He asks not looking up.
Stan just shrugs nonchalantly, even though he knows Pete can't see him. "We were like nine. I didn't know any better. I thought it was like milking a cow." He laughs fondly.
"Dude, that's seriously messed up." Pete says but he chuckles along.
Stan reaches down and picks up a dirty shirt off the floor. He tosses it over to Pete so he can clean himself off. "You should be glad. It means I've had plenty of practice."
Pete sits up and wipes at his stomach with Stan's shirt. "Fuck yeah, you have." He replies still a little breathless. This earns another laugh from Stan. Pete looks up at him and smirks.
"What?" Stan asks with a grin.
Pete climbs on top of Stan and kisses him fiercely. "Your turn." He murmurs between kisses.