Needing (19 page)

Langham took his hand away, left Oliver to it, hanging both arms by his sides. Given the green light to explore, Oliver slid his lightly clenched fist up Langham’s dick, taking the foreskin with it. He eased it back down, pulling as far as he could before repeating the upward motion. Again and again. Again and again.

Langham gasped, a small moan following.

Oliver reached down with his other hand to try to cup the man’s balls. His fingertips met their fuzz-covered softness, but his arm wasn’t long enough to do what he wanted. Langham was as broad as Oliver was slight. Instead, he gave Langham’s cock a soft double grip, moving his hands up and down slowly so he could learn the shape of him, how his cock responded. Expanding in his hands, Langham’s length felt sexy as fuck, and Oliver pressed himself even closer until his chest touched Langham’s back, breaths growing heavy, fractured.

“It looks hot, what you’re doing,” Langham said.

Oliver opened his eyes and, before he could talk himself out of it, lifted his face to peer around Langham’s arm. In the window reflection, he saw his hands moving slowly up and down, the head of Langham’s cock fat and wide, peeking out each time he drew down. He salivated, longing to flick the end with his tongue, take that cock into his mouth and suck long and slow. Taste pre-cum and keep sucking until the real prize gushed out.

“Feels good, but…” Langham eased Oliver’s hands away and turned to face him, drawing him close so their dicks squashed together. He ran his hands up and down Oliver’s biceps and looked down into his eyes. “It’s time to move over to the bed.”

Oliver’s stomach contracted, and he averted his gaze, Langham’s eyes too penetrating for him to look at much longer. They seemed to know him already, dip right inside his mind, and he wondered if Langham had studied him over the past few months more than Oliver had thought. Belly in tighter knots, he stepped back as Langham pushed him using his body, until the backs of Oliver’s knees met with the edge of the mattress. Oliver folded. Letting himself fall down, back to the bed, his calves dangling over the edge, he wiggled his toes in the carpet pile. Langham stared down at him, eyes full of want, and clutched the cock Oliver had so recently fondled.

“Doesn’t feel the same,” Langham said, sliding his hand up and down. “Just doesn’t feel the same.” He let go then climbed on the bed, the mattress dipping. He straddled Oliver on hands and knees, face now level with his. “I want you. Want all of you on me, in me, over me. Reckon you can handle that?”

Oliver nodded, his chest feeling hollow except for a heart that thrummed loud and hard. His body had gone suddenly numb, heavy, as though the adrenaline and excitement speeding through him had prevented all movement. He went to lift one hand, his arm leaden and stiff, then let it fall back to the bed.

“I… Fuck, I’m…”

“I’ll take over. Just stay there. You’re too tired for much.” Langham took a moment to rake his gaze over Oliver, from his face down to his cock and back again. “Damn fine.
Damn
fine.”

He lowered his head, giving Oliver a searing kiss, tongue probing, hot and wet and fucking divine. Oliver responded, managing to lift the arm that had refused to budge before, curving his hand around Langham’s neck and holding him close. Shit, his cock
ached,
and he lifted his hips, wanting more of Langham’s touch. Langham lay over him, deepening their kiss while rubbing his cock against Oliver’s. The soft abrasion sent shocks of pleasure from Oliver’s tightening balls right to the tip of his dick, and he felt pre-cum pool then drizzle. It wouldn’t be long before he exploded, a mass of burning, sticky cum. Langham pressed his abdomen down, grinding hard into him, shifting his hips quickly as he kissed harder, faster.

The telltale bunching of Oliver’s balls told him he’d reached the point of no return, and he cursed his inability to wait longer. That he was finally here, in bed with Langham, kissing him, having him over him, their cocks together, was too much. He raised his other arm, grasping at Langham’s neck as though he needed him to survive, and raised his head as much as he could, wanting the detective to know that he poured everything he had into that kiss. Love, respect…more, he wanted more of this, of everything. Langham worked faster, the friction from their cocks bringing on a burning sensation that streaked around Oliver’s glans. With Langham’s downward pull, Oliver’s foreskin went with it, stretched tauter than any time he’d touched himself, and the slight pain of it was something else.

He whimpered into Langham’s mouth, gripped his neck tighter, and his groin jerked as he pushed up to get more of that feeling, more of the burn. Dick throbbing, growing in length and width, Oliver couldn’t hold back any longer. A surge of cum travelled up his cock, bursting out of him, cock hole stretching with the force. He wrenched his mouth away, turning to the side and crying out, his voice hoarse and broken. Langham fucked on with frantic, jerky thrusts, and lowered his head to Oliver’s neck. He kissed and suckled, licked and nibbled. Another shot exploded, hot cum making Langham’s dick glide, the sensations different from the dryness. More erotic. More…just more.

Oliver dug his fingertips into Langham’s shoulders, bracing himself for a third expulsion that currently zipped up his cock. “Fuck! God. Oh, ah, fuck!”

It came, sending his body into convulsions, and Langham slid one hand beneath Oliver to hold him steady.

“Fuck, I’m coming…coming too…ah, fuck!”

Langham’s cum joined Oliver’s, hot as hell and lots of it. His groin spasmed, and he pulled Oliver closer so he could grind his cock harder. He jolted, jerked, looking down at where their bodies joined.

“Look at that,” he gasped out. “Right…now. Would you…fucking…look…at
that.
”

Oliver looked down, saw how their dicks slipped and slid, his still hard, Langham’s even harder, and shit, it was hot to see. Sticky cum, creamy, sticky cum, coated the pair of them, their cock heads, Langham’s lilac, Oliver’s red, butting one another. If he never saw another thing again, he’d take that sight with him as the last thing he’d seen—gladly.

Breaths coming too fast for him to manage, Oliver took in a deep lungful of air to try to sort himself out. Langham’s breathing rasped as he slowed, still staring between them as though he couldn’t stand to tear his gaze away. Sweat dripped down his temple, and Oliver reached up to wipe it away.

“Fucking hot,” Langham said. “Cocks. Ours. So fucking
nice,
man.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver blurted.

“For what?” Langham snapped his gaze up and looked at Oliver. “What the fuck for?”

“For being too quick. You know—”

“Man!” He shook his head, smile wide. “I mean this in the best possible way, but shut the fuck up, all right? It was perfect. Fast and wild. Perfect.”

“Oh, I—”

“No, don’t want to hear it. There’ll be other times. This time was just right.” He dipped his head, kissed Oliver softly, then drew back. “Like that. Fucking perfect.”

Oliver smiled, conscious of the mess between them, the edges drying quickly making his skin itch. But he didn’t want to push Langham away, have space between them. Langham took the matter into his own hands, though, crawling backwards off the bed and taking Oliver with him, leading him into the bathroom. He switched the shower on, stepping inside the stall before it had the chance to heat up, tugging Oliver to join him.

The cool water was a blessing on Oliver’s overheated skin, and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing his heart to resume its usual pace. He felt like he’d run a mile, sweat popping out of his pores, the water thankfully sluicing it away. Chest tight, he opened his eyes again.

Langham stared at him, crooked smile lifted at one corner. “Okay?”

“More than.”

Once again Langham washed him, took his time over it too, hands skating everywhere, exploring. A wider smile transformed his face when he scooped Oliver’s balls in his hand, the shower gel frothing to obscure any view of bollocks on palm. Langham looked good wet, with droplets of water on his shoulders like that, the hairs on his chest flattened into dead-straight lines. He continued fondling, sliding his finger along the ridge between Oliver’s sac and arsehole then back again. Holding his breath as he found his puckered hole and lingered, Oliver willed the man to breach the barrier. He did, popping his fingertip inside. Oliver widened his legs, a blatant invitation, and studied the top of Langham’s head as he watched himself pushing his finger deeper. The bubbles from the soap stung.

“You like that?” the detective asked, looking at Oliver while easing in some more.

Oliver nodded.

“You like…that?” he said, pushing down on Oliver’s prostrate and circling over it.

Oliver gasped, nodded again and flashed one hand out to brace himself on the tiled wall. His cock twitched, the stirrings of new hardness beginning, and as Langham returned his gaze to what he was doing, Oliver rested a hand on the man’s head and closed his fingers into a fist. Langham’s hair was all kinds of bloody wonderful in his hand, and knowing he pulled it, had it straining at the roots, made his dick spring up again pretty damn quick.

“Yeah, I see you like that.”

Langham kneeled, sucking Oliver’s cock into his mouth so fast he barely had time to process it. The head hit the back of Langham’s throat, teeth lightly scraping down the length, and it was all Oliver could do to keep himself from shouting out. This man was experienced, no doubt about it, knew exactly how much pressure to apply when sucking, exactly how hard to push inside his arsehole. The circular movements back there grew faster, then Langham changed tack, pushing his finger in and out, slipping another finger in beside it and scissoring to aid expansion. Oliver couldn’t spread his legs wide enough, quickly enough, and the constant sucking on his cock would tip him over the edge if he didn’t watch it.

Drawing up, Langham let Oliver’s cock pop from his mouth and stood, finger still pumping his arse. “You want to turn around? So I can
really
see what I’m doing?” He eased his finger out, helping Oliver to face the back wall. “Put your hands up on the tile, lean into them.”

He did, jutting his arse out and widening his legs so the sides of his knees touched the glass on one side and the tiled wall on the other. He wanted Langham in him so much he could taste it.

“We’re clean, yeah?” Langham said.

More of a statement than a question, and it had Oliver’s mind twirling in all directions. He was asking permission to fuck…properly. Oliver nodded, knowing the cop wouldn’t be dirty in his line of work, and Oliver certainly hadn’t done anything that was cause for worry.

“Good. Good.”

Langham inserted his fingers again, three this time if the thickness was anything to go by, and Oliver gritted his teeth through the stretch. Fuck, it burned, but fuck, it felt good. Then, without warning, those fingers pulled out and the tip of Langham’s fat cock nudged at his arsehole. He pushed in so slowly, yet it still made Oliver’s rim throb and ache. He hadn’t been fucked there in a long time—too long to admit—and although it wasn’t as painful as the first time, it hurt well enough. He ground his teeth again, couldn’t help but release a throttled moan.

“You—ah, Jesus that feels good—you okay?” Langham asked.

“Yeah. Just do it. Please, just…ah, that’s good. Yeah, like that. Push inside like that.”

Langham eased in with a little more force, filling Oliver to the hilt. Oliver’s arms gave out, and he found himself pressed against the tiles, cheek squashed, feet sliding as he scrunched his toes to gain purchase on the bobbled bottom of the tray. Langham’s body covered him, and he slid his hand around to grip Oliver’s cock, jerking it in time with his own as he upped his speed.

“This is how it is,” the detective said, panting. “This is how…the fuck…it is.” He groaned, shoving into Oliver faster, harder, tightening his fist and pumping on Oliver’s cock. “Right here, like…this. You and me. No one—ah, ah, fuck!—else. Just us, yeah?”

“Yes!” Oliver shouted, loving the hot burn of his cock being roughly handled so soon after his last ejaculation, loving the wretched burn in his arse even more.

“My cock…up your…arse. Me…fucking you. Only—ah-ah-ah—me. You…got…that?”

“Yes, yes!” Oliver stuck his backside out again, pushing into Langham.

“You make me so fucking horny. So…fucking…ready for you. Wanted you for ages, like this, my…cock”—he groaned loudly and worked faster—“inside you, and you”—he slammed in and out with more vigour—“taking every…fucking…bit of me. You should see what this looks like. Yeah, me sliding in and…out. Your tasty little arse, greedy, sucking me in.” He panted again, short outbursts of air. “Come for me, Oliver.”

Oliver’s cock throbbed—he was going to come again, no order needed.

“Yeah, you know it,” Langham said. “We’re going to…come so damn…hard. You and me. Together. Yeah, fucking yeah. We’ve got this thing. We’ve— I’m going to… Hell yeah, I’m going to come.”

Langham’s words, the way he’d said them, sent Oliver’s mind spinning. He couldn’t take it all in, this new eroticism, this way Langham had of pressing all the right buttons and making him want to come yet again. He came with a croaky shout, the repetition of, “Yes, yes, yes!” mingling with Langham’s stuttered groans.

“That’s right,” Langham said. “We’ve got it. Fuck! Let’s fuck it out of us.”