HOWL 1.5

“Man,” Adam whispers, voice hot. “There is nothing like a popped cherry.”

Adam’s tongue is in his mouth, and he has no idea how it got there. But then Eric realizes they’re back in Adam’s bedroom, and he doesn’t know how that happened either. All he knows is the heat of Adam’s body, the large hands gripping his ass to pull him closer, and the hard cock rubbing against his stomach.

Adam kisses like he does everything else, as fast as he wants, as hard as he wants, and with complete confidence. His tongue doesn’t bob or waiver in Eric’s mouth, it pulses, strokes, takes Eric’s own and fucks it into submission. It feels almost like a metaphor.

The hands on Eric’s ass shift to his hips, and Adam spins him around. His feet tangle and he pitches forward onto the bed. His hands shoot out to stop himself, but the angle leaves him with his ass in the air and pain shoots up his insides. A shaky gasp, and Eric’s body goes limp.

It doesn’t deter Adam at all. Eric’s not a small man, but Adam’s impossibly warm hands grip and pull. Eric’s thighs bump against Adam’s bed, and then he’s maneuvered even more so only his feet hang off.

Eric’s hard, and it shames him to realize it, but this is so unlike anything he’s ever done before. No one’s ever been taller than him before, no one’s ever been so authoritative, no one’s ever lifted his body like he weighed nothing. The strange surge of adrenaline leaves him helpless and trembling. He doesn’t know what Adam’s going to do next, but all he can do is lay there and wait for it.

He feels something like nausea when Adam’s hands reach under him for his zipper, but he doesn’t stop him. With his fly undone Adam reaches to the sides of his hips and yanks his jeans off them. He suddenly wishes he’d made the time to find his underwear. He flinches when those large hands grip his ass cheeks, groans in embarrassment when Adam spreads them apart.

“Man,” Adam whispers, voice hot. “There is nothing like a popped cherry.”

A finger strokes over his asshole, and Eric tenses.

“Your hole should be small and pink and cute, but look at it all red and puffy. Freshly fucked, and you can tell just by looking.” Adam’s voice sends tremors through his body, the obscene words making his cock leak, but his head feel worse. The stroking finger doesn’t stop, just keeps massaging his puckered entrance.

“It looks like what it really is now,” Adam says. “It looks like a pussy.”

That’s it, the last straw, too much. Eric is a man, and he has a man’s parts, not a woman’s. But before he can say anything, right as the word falls from Adam’s lips, the questing finger strikes home. It pushes inside him with one quick thrust, and the dry entry pins Eric to the bed. He cries out, fists twisting in the sheets.

“Look how much you need it, how bad you want it.” There’s a grin obvious in Adam’s voice. “And you tried to tell me you were straight, as if that matters. You’re not gay or straight, pet. You’re just a bottom.”

Two fingers spear him this time, twisting around inside him, spreading open, striking that fiery nut in his ass that makes whiteness explode behind his eyes. This time when he cries out it’s more like a sob.

“Please,” Eric gasps. “Please.”

Even he doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but that hardly matters. Adam clearly has a plan in mind already. The two fingers spread apart, holding his asshole open. It takes him a minute to understand what happens next, when he feels a strange wetness. He cranes his head around to see what the hell Adam’s doing back there.

A long trail of saliva hangs from Adam’s mouth, and when it drops it falls right into Eric’s open hole. Adam’s fingers returning to swirling and twisting, spreading the scant lubrication around. The bed shakes as Adam moves up over Eric’s body. Adam hunches over slightly and spits one more time, on his cock. He strokes himself a few times to get the saliva around his shaft, and then the heavy hotness of his cock head falls against Eric’s hole.

“Wait—” Eric pants, suddenly frozen with panic.

“Hush,” Adam says, and pushes in.

Eric moans for the entirety of that initial push. A long, choked-off sound that would be a wail if he had the breath. It hurts—oh, God, it hurts. It’s too dry, and too rough, and too dirty, but with every inch Adam conquers, every blinking, shattering pain, the base of Eric’s cock pulses just a little more.

By the time Adam is fully seated, and Eric can feel his pubic hair against his ass, his head is buried in the pillows and his fists are white-knuckled around the sheets.

“Yeah,” Adam sighs with a shallow thrust. “You feel—God.”

He leans over, draping Eric’s body with his own, putting his mouth close to Eric’s ear. He whispers, low and filthy, “You might be the best bitch I’ve ever had.”

The words splinter Eric’s soul. He goes limp, accepting. His body is open, Adam has made that clear, and he’s not fighting anymore. The other man must sense the change because the time for words ends. Instead, Adam pulls back until the lips of Eric’s hole catch on the ridge of his cock, and slams back home. Hard.

He does it again, makes Eric feel every excruciating inch of cock he has stuffed inside his body. And again. And again. Eric has heard the term long-dicking before, but he can’t imagine it’s ever felt like this. Adam has a lot of cock, and the hot, painful push-and-pull feels a little like dying.

But Adam doesn’t slow down. He just keeps fucking with those long, hard strokes. It’s like he’s trying to fuck Eric into compliance, but really that ship has sailed. Or at least that’s what he thought until Adam speeds up.

Adam’s hands reach for his hips, slotting almost perfectly over the finger-shaped bruises already there. He raises Eric’s ass up, and it opens just a little more as he sinks a slice deeper. The new ground earns a surprised grunt from Eric, grunts that keep on coming as Adam uses the better angle to go to town.

Sordid sounds fill the air as their flesh smacks together, as Adam fucks faster into the worn channel beneath him. He slams his hips forward, yanks Eric’s up to meet him. Eric thought he could feel Adam’s dick before, but it’s like being fucked by a baseball bat now. He couldn’t close his eyes and think of England if he wanted to. There’s too much happening.

Fleshy smacks, wooden thumps, metallic squeaks, and breathy gasps twine around in Eric’s head, a chorus of the damned he will never forget. This is not a drunken hook-up anymore, if it ever was. This is Eric lying ass-up waiting to be bred.

It doesn’t take long, as it turns out. Adam’s breathing gets harsher, his pace gets quicker. He starts to groan, and Eric can tell it’s coming. Adam’s arm reaches up, forces his fingers into Eric’s mouth. The hand grips his jaw, forces his fingers past Eric’s startled tongue. He’s being fucked at both ends now. Adam owns him completely.

Eric’s orgasm hits him in an instant, overwhelming and unexpected. He can’t help but clamp down on Adam’s fingers. His ass cinches around Adam’s cock, and the other man roars, turns his head into Eric’s neck and bites back. Eric screams, sound muffled by the fingers still thick in his mouth. The push of Adam’s cock gets suddenly wetter, and Eric realizes with a jolt that Adam came inside him. His whole body shudders and his cock forces out a few more drops of come.

Adam’s hips keep pumping away, a lazy glide that tells Eric he’s just enjoying his body. He hasn’t moved off the top of him, the furnace-warmth sinking into his very bones. Eric makes a token noise of protest, and Adam slides to the side, only he takes Eric with him. The end up their sides, Adam’s cock still firmly lodged in Eric’s rear.

“Best get to used to this, boy,” Adam pants harshly into Eric’s ear. “Your ass is gonna need it now.”

Eric closes his eyes, turns his face away, but he can’t hide from Adam’s voice. It sounds too much like truth.