Nor Iron Bars A Cage (38 page)

He paused, probably seeing the spasm of chill that went through me. I’d
had
people inside me, in various ways, and it had never been a good thing.

“Hush, Lyon, I’m sorry.” This kiss was soft apology. “I know that means something else to you. And I’m not asking you to let me inside, not ever. But I’ve been aching to have
your
cock in
my
ass, if you’re willing to try.”

“You truly want this?” I still couldn’t imagine it, even though in my mind I knew men did this, and took pleasure from it. Even though he’d told me a dozen times over that he liked it.

“I’ve been ready to beg for it, with you. Yes. But tell me again if it’s too soon, and I’ll wait some more. I want us both to love it, not to push you if it will be bad for you.”

“I don’t know. How can I know?”

“Do you want to know? Or am I being selfish?”

I touched his face. I couldn’t imagine a more generous lover. “Not selfish. I admit I’m… curious. And I do like, um, looking at you there.”

“Then will you let me try?” He knelt down, there, naked at my fully-clothed feet. “Please? Let me show you?”

“Gods, Tobin.” I grabbed his elbows to pull him up. Inadvertently I used both hands, and my half-healed wrist and elbow twinged. But my fingers had actually curled a little to hold him. It was a good thing. I said, “Don’t ever beg me for something you want. Just ask.”

“I’m asking then.”

“I’ll try.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “What do I do?”

“Will you feel safer clothed or unclothed?”

My mind brought up a sense-image of the wraith, opening his trews as I stood chained naked to the wall. “Please, naked. Let us be equal.”

“Hush.” He kissed me slowly. “Remember, it’s not a big thing. It’s another road to pleasure. Naked it is. Let me.”

He undressed me slowly and sensuously, but without stopping. As the clothes came off, he kissed me all over, in oddly sensitized places. Why his tongue in the bend of my elbow, or his teeth scraped over the point of my hip, should set me afire I didn’t know. But by the time he stripped off my smallclothes I was as hard and damp as he was.

He said softly, “Come lie down with me.” He guided me onto the bed, and slid onto the mattress beside me, then bent over the side, reaching to the floor. He came back up with a small stoppered flask in his hand. “Let’s try this first.”

“What?” Even I could hear the quaver in my voice, and my cock softened a bit, in spite of being on a bed with Tobin naked and waiting.

He laughed, although not unkindly. “The dreaded massage oil. Lie on your back, keep your eyes on me, and let me start.”

I did so, and he tugged the bedclothes out from under me until I lay on just the undersheet. “No need to make more work for the laundress. Lie flat now and relax.”

Tobin pulled the stopper from the jar, and tipped it slowly over my chest so a thin stream trickled out and dripped on me. The oil was clear gold and smelled faintly of fruit. He set the remainder on the table at the head of the bed, and carefully replaced the plug. “Callofruit oil. It has a nice, um, sliiiide to it.” He set his palms flat on my oiled sternum and then slid up and out with firm pressure, until he reached my shoulders. There he dug his fingers in, kneading tight muscles until I groaned with a different kind of pleasure.

“Oh, yeah. I like that sound. Relax.” He worked my flesh, stroking and pressing, smoothing the oil over my chest and down to the flat ridges of my stomach. “I love how little hair you have,” he murmured, stroking in firm circles. “I love your skin. I love the way you feel under my hands.” He moved lower, pressing slippery fingers into the grooves of my hips, until he closed his hands around my sex. My hips came up off the bed to meet him.

Till now, we’d mostly gotten by with spit, or the dry friction of eager hands, until the spill of the first fluids from our arousal smoothed the way. But he’d done me once with a little saddle oil on his hands, out under the stars, and the memory of that slippery, glorious touch was almost enough to bring me now. He laughed with pleasure, and ringed the base of my cock with hard fingers. “Not yet. Damn, I should have bought some of this two weeks ago for you, just for this. But today I don’t want you going off early.”

He stroked me in less responsive places a while longer. I stuffed an extra pillow under my head to watch his strong hands, shiny with oil, gliding around and over my needy skin. Twice he stopped to let me catch my breath, before finally bending over and just kissing my tip, where clear fluid welled from the slit. “Mm, fruit and salt. But I think it’s time to trade places.”

I got enough control back to scoot around and give him space to lie down on the bed. He stretched out and folded his arms behind his head. His sex reared up, long and thick, straining towards his belly. He grinned at me. “Pet it. It wants your touch.”

“Hah. Disclaiming responsibility.” But I bent to kiss him, exactly where he’d kissed me. I loved that taste, the thin, almost sweet slick of his arousal. The taste of his actual spend, or perhaps the texture, still occasionally caught at my throat, but this was pure bliss. I gripped his shaft upright and took slow, regular licks, as drop after drop welled free.

Tobin groaned. “Lyon, you’re killing me. Try the oil.”

I reached across for the jar. Removing the stopper one-handed was a trick, and when I pried it free, it dropped onto Tobin’s tight abdomen and bounced to the floor. A large dollop of oil followed it, pooling in the grooves of those strong muscles. Tobin laughed breathlessly. “That should do the job.”

I set the open jar aside, and stroked my fingertips through the oil on his stomach. It was slicker than I expected, turning even Tobin’s furry skin to silk under my hands. I smeared it around, enjoying both the shimmer of reflected light on Tobin’s body and the helpless little sounds he made whenever I accidentally-on-purpose brushed his cock.

“You’re mean. Heartless. A cocktease. Ah!” He gasped as I closed my fingers tightly around his cock.

I squeezed just a bit more, holding him in a rough grip. “A what?”

“A prince among lovers. A genius. Move your fecking hands a bit, lion-boy.”

I laughed and began stroking him off, sliding my hand up him from base to tip and then dropping loosely down again in a steady rhythm. He pumped his hips upward into my hand and his face grew flushed. “Wait. Stop.” He wriggled around, raised and separated his legs and grabbed his shins to pull himself open further. “Go lower.”

I paused, looking at him there. He was so clean I knew he’d prepared for this. His skin was paler in between his cheeks, with a dark pink rim at his opening. His balls, heavy and furry, hung low, the soft skin of his ballsac wrinkled beneath the coarse curls. I let go of his cock, and it bobbed against his stomach, a thin thread of slick dripping from the tip.

“Touch me, Lyon. It’s all right. I want you so much.”

I reached out again, carefully, and fondled his balls, feeling the firm rounded shape sliding under thin skin. This I’d done before, kissed him there, even taken them into my mouth more than once. I curved my hand around the tender forms and he moaned. His eyes were fixed on my hand where it touched him.

I let my fingertips trail lower, down the soft skin beneath his sac. He had hair there too, but it was short and thin and silky, disappearing as I reached his… I snatched my fingers away.

“Lyon, it’s okay. I’m yours. Every part of me is yours, because I want to be. That felt good.”

I touched him again, circling him with a now-dry finger. His pucker clenched and relaxed at the brush of my fingertip, clenched again. I felt my own ass clutch tight in sympathy.

Tobin said, “It’s not such an important thing. One more bit of me that you can play with. Like this.” He let go of one knee and rubbed his fingers in the oil on his stomach, then slipped his own hand between his legs and pressed his fingertip inside. He made no sound, although I saw his stomach tighten as the knuckle passed in. He rubbed back and forth slowly, opening himself. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t reach out.

Tobin said, “All right? Too much? Here, try this.” He removed his hand and pulled me over him, braced on my arms, then closed his oily hand around our cocks together. “Come on, we’ve done this before. Rub on me, this is good too. Mm, nice.”

I pumped my hips, thrusting into the tightness of his fist, feeling his erection sliding against my own. It was so good. My body
knew
how this went, and I began driving a hard, plunging rhythm.

This was what Tobin wanted in his body. Why couldn’t I give it to him? It would be easy. Slip a little lower, find the place, push inside. I braced on my right elbow, reached down, and guided my tip lower. Tobin smiled up at me, his thighs spread wide. It would be just there.

My wrist sparked with pain, and I had to catch my balance. The pain moved up my arm.
Right there. Just shove up inside him.
I fumbled, feeling my cock softening in my hand. I closed my fingers tighter on myself, trying to line that rubbery head up with that little hole, where Tobin said he wanted me to go, where I could invade and take him. I tried harder, with no leverage, no force, bracing differently, squeezing my shaft so hard I saw stars trying to keep it rigid. I was softening so fast, shrinking in my hand. It wasn’t going to work.

I didn’t realize my panting had become sobbing until Tobin grabbed my arms, and pulled me down against him, forcing my hands up to cradle them at his chest. “Stop. Lyon. Stop. It’s all right. You don’t need to do that. It’s all right. I don’t need it like that.”

I collapsed on him, hiding my face in his neck. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. So useless.”

“Oh, no.” He pressed little kisses to my hair, my temple. “It doesn’t matter. Really it doesn’t. Even if we never ever do anything with asses, sex with you is still better than I’ve ever had.” He rocked me against him, and kissed my hair again. His voice lightened. “Best ever. And I’ve had a lot of sex. Lots of guys. Maybe hundreds. Some hung like horses. With decades of experience.”

I sniffled and laughed against his skin. And then bit him on the neck. “Bastard.”

“That’s better.” He wrapped his arms around me. “What happened there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was your arm hurting?”

“A bit maybe. Not much. I just…”

He kissed me for a while and then prodded me, “What? Just what?”

I said through a tight throat, “I felt like I was forcing you.”

“
You
were forcing
me
?”
He pushed me off enough to meet my eyes. “Seriously? Even with me pulling myself open and sticking my own fingers in there for you?”

“Yes.” It sounded stupid but it felt like truth. “I wanted to do it, because you wanted it. I know you did. But when I thought about pushing, just shoving inside you… goddess, I’m so incapable.”

“No, wait, let me think.” Tobin hugged me hard and settled me back against his shoulder. He stroked my hair, his legs wrapped over my hips, pulling me in against him. I could feel he was still hard, although not the way he had been.

After a while he said, “I figured you would need to be on top, so you wouldn’t feel trapped. But that made you feel like you were trapping me.”

“I guess so.”

“Was it only when you tried to push in that you didn’t like it? It’s not the idea that disgusts you, or the look of my ass, or anything?”

“Oh no.” It had been very arousing to watch his thick finger sliding up inside him. He was beautiful all over, including there. It was just my stupid flesh that wasn’t willing.

He nodded, sliding his cheek against my forehead. “Okay. I think I know what I want to try another time. So. What would you like right now? Because we still have two whole hours we can spend in bed and I don’t plan to waste them.”

I breathed in the scent of his skin. The slight fruit tang of the oil blended with sweat and arousal. His legs were heavy on me. His arms were strong. I knew that for all my work making myself muscular, he could always take me in a fight. Why did I fear hurting him so much? Physically, at least. I knew there were other ways I could hurt this man, but not with my body. Not when he wanted me in every way. I said, “Can we try whatever it is now?”

“My idea, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Well… I suppose so. I thought you’d like to just relax and make each other happy.”

I thought before saying carefully, “I want to try. You know, I may never be able to let you do
that
to me.” The thought took me places I couldn’t bear to go. “But I want to trust myself with you. It’s important to me.”

“All right,” he said, with reluctance in his voice. “We’ll start slowly. You know, sex isn’t supposed to be serious, though. It’s supposed to be fun, and arousing and pleasurable and maybe curl your toes a bit. But never make you cry. So if something isn’t working, let me know. I have a whole list of other things I still want to show you. It doesn’t have to be this.”

I said, “Please.”

“Well, hells, yeah, if you’re willing to give it a try. Get on your back.”

Tobin worked for a bit, getting me positioned on my back, my shoulders propped up partway on pillows, with my legs together. Then he straddled my thighs. “Now let me know if you feel pinned down or trapped at all, right?”

“Yes.” I shifted around— his legs were spread enough not to restrict me.

He leaned forward over me, braced on his arms, and kissed me. “First, we need the mood.” He kissed my cheek, nipped at the end of my nose. “Lots of kissing.”

I was tense at first, wondering what he’d planned, but Tobin, intent on kissing me silly, was impossible to ignore. After a while, I could barely remember my own name. This pleasure was so uniquely his, not something I’d done with the boys before, or anyone else. His mouth and tongue claimed me, in safe, sweet, climbing heat.

After a while, he reached for the oil and I tensed again. He said, “Quit undoing all my work. You’ll like this.” He filled his palm with the stuff and then leaned forward again, bringing his engorged cock against mine. He slathered the oil on us, stroking his skin and mine, under our foreskins and over the red helmets of our emerging cockheads. “So pretty,” he murmured, squeezing and molding us together.