If you had asked me two weeks ago, I would have sworn I was straight. Two fucking weeks ago I was Tony Fucking Stonem and I was fucking three different girls a fucking week. And now I only want one fucking person and that person is definitely not a fucking girl. Fuck him. Fuck him and his blonde fucking hair and his blue fucking eyes and his soft fucking skin and his hard fucking...
No. Fuck him. Fuck Maxxie Fucking Oliver. Fuck him for saying no and then fuck him for not saying no and letting me get too fucking carried away. And fuck him for being so fucking good at everything. And fuck Sundays. Fuck last Sunday for being so fucking amazing and fuck this Sunday for being utter fucking shit.
It's two in the morning on fucking Sunday night and I'm alone in my house for the first time in a long time. I have no fucking idea where my parents are and I never fucking know where Effy is. After wandering around downstairs for hours, I go back upstairs and get into bed, absolutely not thinking about motherfucking Maxxie and how fucking good it felt when I was fucking him and fucking hell, God fucking shit, bollocksy wanking twat dammit, I'm thinking about fucking Maxxie and... And fuck it.
I'm glad I decided to sleep naked tonight because I'm so hard I swear I'd have ripped clean through my boxers and–what the fuck was that? Why does it sound like there's someone climbing up the pipe outside my fucking window? Shit. Fuck. Why am I naked? Fuck. Dammit... No wait... A tap on my window and a whispered, 'Tony... Tony let me in' and it's fucking Maxxie. Now I'm grinning like an idiot. No, I'm not grinning. I'm fucking angry. Clearing my throat, I open the window and let a very cold-looking Maxxie Fucking Oliver into my bedroom. And then my arms are full of a very cold-feeling Maxxie Fucking Oliver and my mouth is full of a very hot, very wet tongue.
His fucking cold hands are everywhere, but everywhere he touches feel like fire and he's laughing at me as he pulls me closer. 'Knew I was coming, didya, Tone?' But he's not giving me any time to reply because his mouth is on mine again and my snarky response gets lost somewhere between his tongue and mine. And then I'm pissed the fuck off because who the fuck does he think he is? And why the fuck am I the only one naked? I push him back and he kind of gives me this wounded look and dammit, I almost forget that I'm pissed but then no, no. Fuck you, Maxxie.
'What the fuck, Max?' I say and he shrugs and goes 'I thought this was what you wanted.' And then I can smell it and fuck it, he smells like he drank a fucking brewery and I'm torn for just a moment. He sees my hesitation and takes the opportunity to rush forward and claim my mouth again while his hands, his fucking cold hands wrap around a cock that's been hard for hours.
I hiss and I realize my mouth is free, so I start to say something –Fuck you, Maxxie? What the fuck?—but the cold hands on my cock have been replaced with a warm fucking mouth and I lose any ability to think coherent thoughts. Oh god, oh god, oh fucking god is this good. This is so beyond good I'm pretty sure I've fucking died, I've tragically died, but before I went, I did something really fucking right because I'm in fucking heaven and my heaven consists of Maxxie's mouth wrapped around me, sucking and pulling and blowing for all of eternity.
My coming surprises me, but Maxxie takes it all in stride, not even choking at all as my hands come up to pull his head towards me as I die a little bit more into his mouth. He stays down there, on his knees, hair all fucked, eyes over bright and he looks up at me and goes, 'Can we have another go, Tone? Last time wasn't quite enough for me' and I was gonna say something but he's got this…this whinging note in his voice and I find myself completely undone. Groaning, I pull him back up so I can kiss him again, knowing as I do that I'm not the one completely pissed. So while Maxxie could explain all this away in the morning, I know I won't have that luxury.
He's dropping his trousers and I'm taking off his shirt as I walk us back to my bed. He's planting hot, open-mouthed kisses down my chest and I'm afraid my legs are gonna give out so I sit the fuck down. And then he's there, on top of me, pushing my shoulders down until I'm laid completely out underneath him and he kind of does this sighing thing like he's been waiting for this too. Then there's a tube of lube in my hand and he's spreading his legs apart and I can't fucking help it, I'm fucking hard as fuck and I feel if I don't get inside him right fucking now my entire universe will fall apart.
I reach back to find his entrance already slick and I feel like I'm gonna be fucking sick because this motherfucker has already had a fucking good time tonight and I'm no one's fucking sloppy seconds. I bring my hands up –to push him, to punch him, I don't fucking know—when he goes 'Knew you wouldn't say no, Tony. Came ready for you' and I get this image of him sitting on my fucking front porch, stretching himself with his fingers and I'm fucking ready to go.
I barely take the time to slick myself up before I'm slamming up and in and home and fuck, fuck, holy fucking fuck is this good, it's fucking better than good, it's fucking perfect. And suddenly Maxxie is the one doing all the work, riding me like a fucking cowboy, his fingers laced through mine, face buried in my shoulder. Then he's bringing my hand down to wrap around him and I'm wanking him as he's riding me and it's fucking beautiful and flawless and then he's coming and then I'm coming and the whole fucking world is coming and everything is on fire and nothing will ever be the same.
He falls forward and we're kissing, hot and heavy breaths, slick sweaty bodies, everything is all heat and salt and skin and I can't fucking believe we did that again , can't believe we're probably going to do it again and again. I remember what I was going to say from earlier. 'D'you wanna know the fucking truth, Max?' I ask between kisses. 'Last time wasn't enough for me either.'