And then he's laying alongside me, knee pulled back to rest against him as he reaches a hand across my torso and down low ...
It is rather an extraordinary thing, of course, the moment you're to officially enter the Great Gay Penetrative Kingdom, and despite my bravado, I'm, of course, nervous as fuck. Maxxie, of course, is sweet as can be.
"There's three things you should know," he says kissing my ear.
"Okay," I say, shaking away.
"One: you're unbearably hot, and I love you."
"Right," I smile. "So is that, um, one thing, or two ?"
"That's just one. Two: you have total veto power at any point – you just need to say the word, but bear in mind it will feel weird, at first; it does for everybody."
"Okay."
"Three, and listen up. This is important," he says, slipping a hand behind my head to pull me close. "Are you listening ?" he asks, when our faces are half an inch apart.
I blink in anticipation. "Ya."
As he speaks, his lips brush mine.
"You're unbearably hot, and I love you."
In the midst of drowning in his lips, swimming along with the blissful, peaceful tide, without further ado ... inward slips a finger.
Gulp. Just there … just in the door ... and his thumb meanwhile caresses the sac in exactly the way that I like ... but no amount of distraction can hide the extraordinary event happening just south, and I can't help but break away and peer down at the balance of Maxxie's hand, the graceful arc of his wrist ...
"Y'okay ?" he asks nervously. "Not hurting you ?"
In truth, my body is singleminded in it's desire to repel the invasion – weird isn't the word for how it feels – but I clench my teeth and overrule the fucker, smothering the instinct screaming at me to push the fucking thing out, and instead, squeeze down on him, in welcome.
His eyes fly from below, back to mine, and he laughs.
"Wow."
"What ?"
"Your muscles are really strong."
"Are they ?" I say, straining to sound normal.
"Yes," he says, cupping my jaw and kissing away the shakes. "Tony, I absolutely can't believe we're doing this."
"You think I can ?"
"Is it okay, though ?"
Trying as best as I can in this awkward, arms-overhead position, I shrug.
"Dunno. Feels really weird."
"I know," he says quietly. "It gets better, though; promise." When I look unconvinced, he stops and gives me those big, puppydog eyes. "Do you want me to stop ?"
Okay, the answer may be 'fuck yes', but I can't bear the beginning hints of a pout, the look of anticipated disappointment in his face. He wants it so bad, for me to be introduced to this new, magical world – his world - to things more delicious than I could possibly imagine; more, even (his eyes say) than anything we've done thus far.
Most important of all, he wants to be the one to do the introducing. Yes. Straightahead, pure, selfless Maxxie.
Only a cad would dream of disappointing him.
I shake my head no.
"I'm fine," I lie. "Really. Keep going."
With the introduction of the second digit, I'm happy to report, it's somehow easier. Why my body is accommodating of something larger rather than smaller is beyond me … which does of course portend well.
Kid's good at this deflowering business, is what it must be. He seems to know instinctively what works, and what is too much, as he begins gently scissoring his fingers to help stretch the passage.
"How many virgins have you done, exactly ?"
"Fuck off."
"No; I wanna know. I'm not the first."
He smiles inwardly. He looks at me.
"No, you're not the first," he says, warm breath feathering my face, "but you're the last."
As he presses inward further, he kisses and reassures and murmur-whispers in my face and tells me all kinds of gorgeous things … but I'm still freaked, still having to overcome the kneejerk instinct to pull back, to pull away from the intrusion and make it all stop ... and then it happens.
Tony ? Meet Panic Button.
"Fuck !" I shriek into his mouth, hips lurching off the bed like my dick's been hit by lightning.
He looks horrified.
"Did I hurt you ?"
"No," I pant harshly. "If what I just felt was pain, right now I'd be a committed masochist. Do it again."
He does, smiling in relief and watching my face as he swirls his fingertips against the holy, infamous prostate.
"I LIKE it," I blurt dumbly, writhing around, glassy eyed, to which he bursts out laughing.
"You do."
Shit. I don't know what the fuck it is. Some sort of incredibly intense, root-of-your-cock, razor-thin, edge-of-insanity sensation. Akin to being slowly sucked off from the inside.
"Uhhh." Is all I can muster. "Gahh … Do that as long as you want," I manage to slur, as he continues. "We can call it sex, and fuck everything else."
"No fucking way," he laughs.
A third digit joins the second. I grip the headboard.
"You said you'd check with me before doing that," I offer, weakly.
"I have. Your body gave me permission."
Our mouthes open, my head tilts back, and it's quite simply the most exquisite thing imaginable - a major, all out double fuck – tongue darting and owning, yanking you back when you try to run, while the body cavity you had never before paid any mind – certainly no respect – completely betrays you by revealing itself as a secret, hidden burial ground for half-ignited sexual explosives ... and I'm flapping about, a completely helpless, completely pathetic, slobbering, hip lunging mess … which is all the invitation he needs.
There is the slow withdrawal; he does tell me ahead of time but I'm in such a fog it doesn't quite register. All I know is this warm, catastrophically addicting new thing invading my body is now leaving it, and I don't bloody want it to …
A heavy gush of air leaves my lips, and he rolls on top of me to breathe it in, arms outstretched, fingers meshing with mine, and we throw our mouthes and bodies at each other, gnashing teeth, grunting and bucking and sliding, giving light to all the magic in the room, and by the time we're done, by the time we've had our last pre-fuck kiss, I'm frankly exhausted – utterly spent by the buildup and tension and fear, by all the new, frighteningly intense sensations - by this whole damned bloody weekend.
For the record, a cock does feel very different from a finger, even a trio of same, and, as it's making introductions, I go white – picture a frost bitten gardenia – even my tan lines disappear. I stiffen, bite through my tongue and am rendered mute and dumb …
Understand, this is not, of course, just physical … What I didn't know, is that in letting someone in, you become stripped of everything – all your deflections and defense mechanisms, all the things you throw up to protect yourself, to keep up the Tony facade – sarcasm and cynicism, world weariness, smartarse remarks and one-upping jokes – til all that's left, underneath, is simply ... you ... the true, raw core … and amazingly, it sorta flings open the channels to your heart. You absolutely can't believe what it feels like to feel, to finally be introduced to yourself.
From here, every emotion is intensified, and everything's a blur. He moves, and my body absorbs him effortlessly, like he's a part of me - like he always has been - a single, beautiful, fluid mass that I want to own and embody and cling to. I resist the urge to cry, to shout stupid things in his face, and try simply to comprehend what is happening, but the brain isn't working - too overwhelmed, too caught up, and as his thrusts come, with each there is a deep, gutteral, nasty, embarrassingly indecipherable sound bouncing round the room ... and far in the back of my mind I feel bad for him, that these are the noises he makes when he fucks ...until I realize, it's ME, for fuck's sake, thrashing about, shouting and shrieking to the high heavens because for the first time in my life, I'm having the right, bloody livid fucking daylights FUCKED right out of me … this super fleshy, super ultra squishy tight, incredibly intense inner pull and drag thing that feels like it's stretching my navel, taxing my balls, yanking my nipples up and down …
"I wanna put my whole body inside you," he gurgles into my mouth, gripping my hair, "Fuck you with my whole body."
What makes him think he's isn't ?
I throw my hands to his face to tear out his eyes, to rip out his hair … momentarily forgetting the bindings, and as they snap back, I hurl my legs behind him in frustration, hooking ankles tight round his perfect bum and thrust so hard I bruise; snarling, baring teeth, "Fuck me !"
Alas, as he does, the Great Prostate Pounding quickly proves too much. The sensation is that of a slow-burning supernova swelling to the danger point, invading my marrow, proving the ruin of every nerve ending as it spins my heart in place, rockets through corpuscles, through eyeballs and vertebrae, finally claiming my overly swollen, overly stressed member which thrashes about, helpless, on it's own, and burst into a million jagged bits.
"Oh god," he says, voice ragged, eyes crossed, looking down, panting hard, "you came. You fucking came."
"Did you think," I wheeze, when I finally can, "I wouldn't ?"
"Didn't know," he says, wheezing himself. "Afraid it all wouldn't work."
I allow a moment to pass as I absorb this.
"Are you fucking NUTS ?" I snap.
His head pops out of the crook of my neck and he looks confused.
"Well, I just, y'know-"
"-No. Shut up. Right now. You are," I continue, panting like a beast, "hands down, the hottest, most beautiful, most extraordinarily spectacular FUCK in world history, do you understand ? Do you ? ? You'd get a dead man off."
He laughs. He beams like the sun.
"I'm not kidding," I continue. "So what are you waiting for ? Fuck me, already. Let me watch you come."
.
It's not like I need to be told twice, but understand, the whole bloody thing is so surreal, SO out of this world insane … even in a weekend of genuine bloody miracles, to have somehow found myself in the literal midst and depths of his body, in the truly staggering position of having actually just deflowered Tony Stonem ... to have even been entrusted with such an extraordinary task is something so far fetched, even as I lay here, moments after I've witnessed it with my own eyes, felt the tremors quaking through him with my own body … that I know I will never be the same.
Meanwhile, for all my awed, dreamy thoughts, he's antsy.
"I said fuck me."
When I finish, I collapse in emotional and physical exhaustion, making a jokey mental note to be sure to deflower more virgins, and move to quickly untie his (what must by now be) sore and aching arms, apologizing profusely over same and pulling them down to kiss and massage as he scolds me for being ridiculous and only wants to talk about every single possible detail of every single second of The FUCK, quizzing me like he never has, yabbering on a million miles a minute, beside himself like a two year old in some strange, exotic shop filled to the brim with new and wildly addictive chocolate toys.
Not wanting to spoil the truly historic moment for him, for us, I try my best to keep up, to stay awake, jerking my eyes open each time they drift shut, particularly after he wraps me in a warm, blissful spoon hug ... but there really is only so much a boy can take – even though I do, in fact, feel super human at the moment, I am quite mortal, and despite the continuous motion of his lips, I prove it by helplessly falling to sleep.
Partly from guilt, but mostly not, a few hours later I awaken Tony via swallowing his cock, looking up at him all steamy eyed and sexy as I do, only to be met with a grin that can safely be described as homo-mischievous. So much so, that I actually do the unthinkable, and pull him out of my mouth.
"What ?" I ask.
He grins, and holds it.
"Go get Aloysius."
"Huh ? Why ? Just let me suck you, please," I say, lowering my face again, but he pushes me back.
"Come on. Do it."
"Tony, honestly, I'm way too wasted to be fucked."
"That's not what I want it for."
"Huh ? But-"
"Just go get it, baby, pleeease ?"
I walk off in a huff – why did I ever let on that the use of that one little endearment is guaranteed, always, to crumble my resolve ?
"There," I tell him, throwing it on the bed. "What, then ?"
In the next minute, I find myself doing something I've never even contemplated, which, considering how much I've pondered the male form, is genuinely saying something. Yes, a clever, cheeky bastard is Tony; ingenious, really, in that he's figured out a way we both get what we want.
"Farther," he gasps, "come on, more," he pleads, as one purple, generously lubed sex toy makes it's careful way up his bottom. Am I going to be sorry one day, I wonder, that I introduced him to bumsex ?
No, I think, when I've pushed as far as it will go. Not so long as I get to suck, while Aloysius fucks. Ingenious, I tell you.
Yes, but as I work out a rhythmic mashup between twin alternating double pumps; satanic, torturously slow backward drags; and soft, either-or suction-thrusting, and just as I'm beginning to actually get jealous of Aloysius ... he comes. I'm talking screaming plutonium gunshot. And it's only been thirty seconds.
He shakes and shudders and wheezes like I've never heard, like a frozen diesel engine, like somebody on his death bed, to the point where I'm momentarily frightened. Is he having a fucking stroke ?
I carefully remove, and toss Aloysius to the floor.
"What is it, my angel ? Are you okay ?"
He pulls me, weakly, into the sweet circle of his arms.
"Yes," he says, and promptly falls asleep.
We're not quite done. Early morning, with the sunrise streaking through the curtains, we roll out of bed and rather than have a badly needed wash, find ourselves, instead, making out in the shower, where it turns out, Tony has prepared a freshly lubed condom, and is incapable of keep his hands off the wall.
On the train some hours later, Tony's phone beeps. He fishes into his pocket to find that Effy has texted him.
On ur way back ?
Yup, he texts back.
He goes to put the phone down, when it beeps a second time. He looks.
Chelle told me she talked 2 U.
"What does she mean, Max ?" he asks, nervously.
I grab the phone and read the message.
"It's Effy, Tone. When does she ever pussy around ?"
Ya ? He texts back, and shows it to me.
"No use being coy, is there ?"
He sighs in resignation.
"Nah. Guess not."
Maxxie and I are lovers, he blurt-texts.
"Fuck, do you have to be that blunt ?" I ask, but he's too busy texting away.
But I guess u already suspected, he continues.
He sits back, anxiously biting his fingernails – not something I have ever seen him do, until the phone finally beeps.
Ya, I did.
"Fuck," he exclaims, showing me the screen. "Look at that."
As I read, another text blips into place.
I'm cool with it, if ur wondering.
Okay, he quickly writes back.
Not saying I wasn't confused and still sort of am, but if ur happy, I'm not gonna freak on u.
Good. Have 2 ask. How long have u known ?
Months. Wasn't all that hard 2 C.
Do mum n dad know ?
Highly doubt it. Want me to drop some hints ? It might help pave the way.
No. We'll take care of that. Y did u not come 2 me about it if u knew ?
Guess I wanted to give U ur privacy while u worked it out.
Worked it out ? It's not a phase, if that's what U mean, Ef.
Christ, ur annoying. Think about it. Everything U'v been through the last yr, good and bad, u needed space 2 deal with. I knew if this was what was going on, that it was pretty fucking huge, and that U'd need serious space. That's all I meant, fucking twat.
Fuck off. Ur cool with it, though ? Honestly ?
Honestly ? Well, only cuz of the mega-grief U guys R gonna get, not so much, but otherwise, if u have 2 go with a boy, u could do a fuck of a lot worse than Maxxie.
I'm unsure whether to laugh at this point, or how to take it as I read along with him. Yes, it's nice to be complimented, but it's still just so unnerving to be talking about this 'out loud' – something I've barely had time to process or realize myself - and to Effy of all people.
The phone beeps again and we both peer in at the screen.
Honestly, I'd fuck him, if he ever got sick of u. I figure if u can go gay, he can go str8.
Tony's fingers fly across the screen
FUCK YOU ! YOU ARE NOT STEALING MY BOYFRIEND !
I look at him, expecting a laugh, but to my surprise he looks stressed and upset. She was so obviously kidding. Why did he flip out ?
I hook my hand into his elbow.
"Tone, come on. She was just-"
The screen blips. We both look.
So u think of him as your bf ?
"Fuck," he says to me. "What does she think I think of you as ?"
"Tony, calm down. She was obviously testing you. You know how Effy is. She just wanted to hear you say it."
He looks at me.
"Christ. You're right. You know her better than me."
"Apparently. She's crafty."
"Always has been, fucking little wench." He goes to type, but another message is there.
Do u love him ?
Yes. He quickly responds. Completely. Never been happier.
My heart soars a thousand feet into the air. I clutch his arm with both hands and kiss his temple. He turns his face and moves a hand to my jaw and kisses me sweetly on the mouth, no matter that the whole train is watching.
We both turn to the blank screen. There is a bit of an agonizing wait before the message appears.
Good. And he loves U ?
"Absolutely" I say, as he texts the same word.
Okay, that's all I needed to hear. (And btw, that makes 2 of us.) CU when you get back. Have a good trip.
A/n:
1) In a small bit of ironic fun, I wrote the final draft of this chapter while watching tonite's Republican presidential debate. So yes, while the candidates pontificated about 'family values' and spoke against gay marriage, I was busy having the love of Tony's life shove a dildo up his arse.
2) The more sex scenes you write, the more difficult it becomes to make them fresh, and to keep the descriptions (hopefully) semi-interesting. I admit to a certain fondness, however, not only for the idea of Tony being simultaneously penetrated and sucked (and for this being his idea), but for the phrase "screaming plutonium gunshot," which just fucking makes me laugh.
3) I feel like this chapter was almost too filthy - which, coming from a gal like me who loves her boy on boy stuff, is kind of saying a lot. But no matter. I'm glad Tony was (very) successfully deflowered despite his fears and misgivings, and that he liked it so much, he asked for it twice more. I'm glad the boys are on their way home, and I'm glad Effy texted Tony (been writing that bit in my head for weeks) and that they got it all out in the open. Underneath the tough exterior, she's a sweet kid who loves her big brother, so it struck me, almost at the last second, that I should have her tell him so.