You meet him at the door and the pit of your stomach drops at once. It feels as if you've been apart forever. He stands there in a white t-shirt and jeans – his hair messy. He was never very tidy about himself or his apartment, for that matter. You walk towards him, a slight limp still in your step. You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut short. His soft mouth presses against yours in a feverish kiss, his tongue licking along your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut as you're overtaken with a sudden ecstasy that is undeniable. Nobody has ever been able to do this to you before.
Leading you back towards the bedroom, it suddenly seems much too far. You need him now. Steering his smaller body towards the couch, he grunts as your body collapses atop his.
"Sorry," you whisper huskily, running your tongue across his earlobe. He bites his lip to keep from crying out, "It's okay… K-keep going."
Not another word is needed to persuade you. You capture his mouth in another deep kiss and begin working at his shirt. Finally, pulling it over his head, your lips break their contact for what is nothing more than a mere second, yet feels like an eternity. Raking your fingertips across the pale skin of his chest and stomach, you're hardly able to restrain the terrible lust you feel for the boy beneath you. He's all you've ever wanted, and you know that for sure now. He is everything your wife could never give you. He is everything.
You slide your body down level with his and run your tongue across his jaw line, causing a moan to sound from deep within him. You dip your head down lower and kiss the barely noticeable scar still on his shoulder. You can't help the memories that begin to flood back, but you push them away as best you can. Setting up, you drag your palm down his chest; you pause at his belt and begin to unclasp it. He begins to unbutton your shirt at the same time; letting his lips caress your bare skin.
He gasps as your hand rubs through the cloth holding back his swelling erection. Your hips begin to rock against each other's slowly – mouths finding one another again. Your tongue's tangle as your hips increase their pace, but it's not enough.
"Oh oh God, Lawrence… ahh, please… more."
You nod your head against his, pulling away. You pull his pants down the rest of the way, along with your own. Tossing both articles across the room, you relish in the feeling of your skin against his. You rest your knees between his legs and run your hand along his bare leg as you enter a finger into him. Then little by little another, and another. You both lay like that for a while as he adjusts to the intrusion. Finally, he nods that he's ready and you remove your fingers, replacing them with your cock.
"Ugh, shit…!" he mumbles, and you give him a look of apprehension. After a moment of stillness, he finally signals for you to move again. You begin to rock inside of him gently. He bites down on his lip hard to keep from screaming out – from pleasure or pain – he's not really sure. Steadily, however, the pleasure is starting to take over.
"Lawrence," he gasps, craning his head back as you brush against his prostate for the first time, "Jesus Christ."
You keep your steady, gentle pace, but the desire you feel is making it almost impossible to go slowly. You begin to speed up a little, and gradually a little more. He doesn't protest, and you lean down to kiss his parted lips and run your fingers across his shaft.
"Oh God," he moans, his breath ragged. He reaches his hands around to grasp your neck, deepening the kiss and meeting your rhythm, building faster by the moment. You can feel your climax mounting and you move your hips even faster. You can tell your lover is close, and you wrap your hand around his throbbing cock and rub your hand up and down steadily.
"Fuckit… oh oh… Lawrence, ohh… shit…"
He comes in your hand with a long cry, digging his fingernails into your back, almost drawing blood to the surface. It only takes moments for you to follow suit. Spilling yourself inside him, you scream out with the most earth-shattering orgasm you've ever felt.
"Adamadamadam, oh god, Adam…"
Your bodies collapse together in a heap – sweating, panting, absolutely spent. You manage to reach your hand up and run your fingers through your lovers' damp hair, letting your parted lips rest against one another's.
Oh Dr. Gordon, you silly man. The formerly brilliant Dr. Gordon. The once powerful surgeon with a beautiful wife, daughter, home, and two good feet to stand on. What are you left with now? A boy. Is that all you have to live for anymore? A voyeur. A child. Somebody with no real life of their own. Is that it, Doctor?
Staring down at his delicate features, you wipe a lock away from his forehead. He's fallen asleep by now, and you can't help but want to watch him all night long. A fleeting thought runs through your head, however, before you reluctantly allow sleep take over your drained body.
"Yes … this is it."
