Rock Rod 3 (4 page)

"Oh my God," Alex whispers. He grabs his cock and strokes it through his shorts. "You feel so good. So slick."

"Please." Peter pushes his hips back, writhing helplessly like he's trying to jam himself back against Alex's finger. "I need. Alex, I need."

"All right, shhh." Alex swallows against the dryness in his throat. He gives his cock another firm squeeze as he gets his bearings, and then he uses that hand to palm Peter's ass. He draws his finger away and replaces it immediately with his pointer finger. It goes deeper.

He curls it gently, turning his palm facing up and then down as he slowly fingerfucks Peter. On a downstroke, he adds his middle finger. Peter tightens around him and groans.

"Alex."

"You look awesome." Alex strokes Peter's lower back. "You're so tight and hot inside."

He wants to play like this forever, just exploring the way Peter feels and how he reacts to each curl and twist. But he can feel the tension and need shivering through Peter. Peter needs more.

"You ready?" he asks.

"Yeah." Peter whines and lifts his head to catch Alex's gaze in the mirror again. He nods frantically, his lower lip bitten-pink and wet.

"Shit," Alex says, inhaling deeply to try to get a hold of himself. His arm trembles as he draws his fingers out and replaces them with three. This time, Peter's body resists him, his rim stretching thin and slick. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Peter says. "It's perfect. It's perfect. Please."

Transfixed, Alex twists his fingers. They seem huge, but he knows they're not that big. Peter's body can handle it. He's handled more. So he slides his pinky in too, jamming his fingers together and turning them.

Peter lets out a low whine and moves, his back muscles rippling. He isn't trying to get away. He's pushing back. So far, Alex has been going slow. Really slow. He gives up up on his pinky, because it's too awkward like that.

With three fingers it's easy to curl his pinky under his thumb and keep it out of the way when he turns his palm up and thrusts harder. He pushes his hips against Peter's hip, rubbing his cock there as he starts fucking Peter harder, punching his fingers in until they make a snapping-wet sound from the lube.

"Alex," Peter moans. "Yeah. Yeah."

Lost in it, Alex strokes all over Peter's back. He's gone slick with sweat now, and Alex's palm slides in the heat of it. Then he reaches below Peter, finding his rock-hard dick.

Peter cries out.

"You like that?" Alex asks, playing with the head. He's bold with heat, drunk with it. "You want to fuck my hand?"

"Alex." The sound comes out tight, like Peter's holding his breath.

Stroking Peter while fingering him takes some getting used to. At first the rhythm is all wrong. But after a minute or so, Alex finds steadiness in it. His fingers fuck in an out like a piston, and he strokes Peter's cock more slowly, wringing little cries out of Peter.

Peter's cock goes impossibly hard, and Alex knows that means he's close. He shifts his hand palm down and digs each thrust down toward the spot in Peter that's gotta feel as awesome as the spot in him.

Peter lets out a hoarse yell, thunks his forehead against his bathroom counter, and comes like a clap of thunder, his ass clenching convulsively around Alex's fingers. Alex feels like he set off a fucking bomb, unable to do anything but watch and listen as Peter falls apart and gasps over and over, catching his breath as his hips jerk with aftershocks.

It would be so easy to slide his shorts down and line his cock up to Peter's wet hole if Peter wanted him to. But Alex is just coherent enough to remember what Miranda asked him. It probably means more to her if it's really their first time on camera. If he blows it now he'll disappoint her.

Shaking, he pulls his fingers out of Peter's body and wipes them off on the towel on the floor. Then he helps Peter straighten and turn and he wraps his arms around him and kisses him hard, spreading Peter's lips with his tongue and making it open-mouthed and deep.

"Will you come on me?" Peter whispers the words against Alex's lips.

Alex would say yes to pretty much anything Peter asked him right now. He nods.

Moving shakily, Peter kicks the toilet seat down and sits on it and looks up at Alex with his wet lips parted. His half-hard cock rests against his thigh, spilling a shiny bead of moisture. Alex goes still, struck by how sexy Peter is, debauched and sweaty and still hungry, still needing.

"Let me do it," Peter says, pulling Alex's shorts and briefs down.

Possessing one last brain cell, Alex reaches over and grabs the lube and drizzles some onto his cock.

"Perfect." Peter takes him by the hips and pulls him close, until Alex is practically straddling the toilet. And then he grabs his cock firmly and proceeds to start giving Alex the best handjob he's ever had. The best handjob he's ever imagined. Peter's flushed mouth is poised just above the tip of Alex's cock, his tongue wetting his lips over and over like he's thirsty. Like the only thing he needs is Alex's cum.

"Peter," Alex says, carefully pushing his fingers into Peter's hair. His thighs shake. He tugs a little and Peter's gaze flashes up at his, hot and happy. And that spark of joy is what pushes Alex right over the edge. He stares as his cum splashes against Peter's jaw and chest in sticky ribbons.

Peter kisses his over-sensitive cockhead gently, lapping at it until Alex doubles over and bats him away.

"You are fun," Peter says breathlessly. He scoops a bead of cum from his nipple and tastes it like he's stealing frosting from the edge of a cake.

"Isn't that gross?" Alex asks.

"It isn't the best." Peter grins. "But the look on your face was totally worth it."

Alex kisses him and hopes Peter’s water heater is up for the challenge of another shower.

***

"When you said sex robot, I didn't know you meant a fuckmachine," Peter tells Alex.

He's whispering like they're in church, even though they're actually in the fetish studio at Rock Rod. It's different than the rooms that look like bedrooms. A bunch of metal storage lockers line one wall, and a bunch of racks line the other. Alex hasn't spent a ton of time looking at the racks, but they appear to hold a ton of ropes and other dangly things, and some metal things.

The ceiling has a few heavy-duty hooks attached to it, and a black table that looks like a sexier version of the kind at the doctor's office sits in the middle of the room. There's a shower head against the far wall and a drain on the concrete floor. There's also a hose near the floor with a tapered attachment that Alex has a strong feeling isn't for hosing down equipment. Or at least, it isn't only for that.

The fuckmachine in question rests on a butcher block cart with locked wheels. It's black and gunmetal grey with shiny titanium accents. And it's roughly the size of an espresso machine. A really long pole sticks out of it, and there's a metal, tiered dick-shaped thing at the end that looks like it would tear somebody's insides out.

Glancing at Alex's face and back at the scary metal dick, Peter laughs."That's not a dildo. It's the adaptor. You can put lots of different dildos on the end."

"Okay. I'm really glad you told me that. Because that looks like some evil Mad Max sex toy shit," Alex says.

"This is the best day of my life," Peter says reverently, stroking the long, thick shaft that leads to the scary dildo attachment.

Cory stands on the other side of the butcher block, nodding. "We ran her for a while to prime the engine. But she's still a virgin fuckmachine." She mocks wiping a tear from her eye. Or at least, Alex thinks she's kidding. It's kind of hard to tell since Cory and Peter are acting like this fuckmachine is capable of ending world hunger.

"It's really that awesome?" Alex asks.

"I've only tried one out at a private party at Fetish Con," Cory says. "But it literally changed my life. It's like getting fucked with a jackhammer."

Alex stares. "That sounds horrible."

"Like getting fucked by a jackhammer in the best possible way." Peter pats the machine. "I've been fucked by our handheld model. It's great but all the reviews say this is one of the best models on the market. We've been on a waitlist for it for almost a year. They're all made by hand in Korea."

Alex still thinks it's weird, but his dick thinks it's awesome. At least according to the erection he's trying to hide by standing slightly behind Peter.

Cory grins. "It's cute when Alex thinks we can't see him sporting wood."

"Who's going for the first ride?" Peter asks.

"My crew isn't back until next week," Cory says, pouting. She works as a production assistant for Miranda and Rock Rod, but she performs for a smaller studio that rents the facility from Miranda. According to Peter, they shoot inclusive porn for a small scale paysite. He said something about genderqueer performers. When Alex looked it up online it seemed like that mostly meant people being whatever they wanted to be and that sounded pretty great.

"I'll run it for you if you want," Peter tells her. "You don't have to do it on camera."

"Nah, it's like you and Alex. They want real reactions and all that. Artistic integrity. True stories."

"True stories?" Alex grins. "Like fake spooge?"

"Hey. Fake spooge is just part of life," Cory says. "The body is only capable of generating so much jizz."

"Wait." Peter looks between them. "What do you mean me and Alex?"

"Oh." Somehow between the fingerbanging and shower, and then another actual date at the arcade at the mall, and a night spent in Peter's bed discovering exactly what it feels like to have a cat sleep directly on his face, Alex forgot to tell Peter what Miranda asked him to do. "Miranda wants me to fuck you."

"She said I can perform again?" Peter asks, his eyes lighting up.

"I guess?"

Cory makes a face at them. "Wow, you guys suck at communicating."

"We communicated a bunch!" Alex says.

"I feel like that means you communicated your penis into Peter's mouth, but whatever." She grins.

Peter does a sort of double fist pump thing that's hands down the dorkiest and most adorable thing Alex has ever seen. "Yes!" He turns to look at Alex. "You said you'd do it? We can do it?"

"We can definitely do it. If you want to do it for Miranda, we can do that. But I mean, I'm also down for doing it. You know, in general," Alex says.

"Congrats, dude," Cory says, giving him a salute. "I look forward to injecting your butthole with lukewarm lubrication. Also, we should use the fuckmachine on Alex."

"On what?" Alex asks. A record scratch sound effect goes off in his head. "The huh?"

"No way," Peter shakes his head. "He'd cry and pull the kill switch in fifteen seconds."

It's the oldest trick in the entire book. Even Alex, who isn't particularly competitive, immediately feels like telling them to load the fuckmachine up at top speed and attach their biggest dildo to it. He swallows and scowls at Peter. "Nice try."

"He wouldn't cry," Cory says. "Not on low speed, anyway. But he might come without touching again. That was rad."

"Hey I'm right here you know. I'm not going to do the fuckmachine," Alex says. "It's scary-looking."

But Peter has incepted him with the idea that maybe he can. That it would be a challenge. Peter turns and looks at him and clearly fucking knows that he's already won.

"We should film it," Peter says. "It's super easy. Just one static tripod shot, and Cory can use the handicam for closeups."

On any other day, Alex would have a perfectly good excuse to say no. But it just so happens that today he prepped for sex on the off chance that Peter might want to fuck him. It's kind of his new normal. A month ago his idea of hygiene would consist of a hasty tooth brushing and remembering to wear deodorant. Now he's on a freaking bathroom schedule and his showers have gotten long and incredibly thorough.

Left with no excuse other than completely punking out, Alex sighs. "Fine."

"Yes!" Cory does a little dance that's almost as cute as Peter's was. Her combat boots slap against the tile. "Fuck yeah!"

Alex looks at the machine again in defeat, and doesn't see it coming when Peter pulls him into a kiss.

"Ew, you guys," Cory says. "It is not smoochy time. It is fuckmachine time."

But Peter doesn't stop. He kisses Alex like they're all alone, running his hands up his back, pushing his hips at him. He opens his mouth and Alex returns the kiss deeply, even when Peter's glasses dig at his face.

"You're sexy," Peter says.

Alex believes him, because Peter's rock-hard against his body. Which is a lot more than Alex can say for his highly intimidated penis. Committing to getting jack-hammered got rid of his erection in a hurry.

Cory opens one of the cabinet doors and gets out a plastic bin full of colorful dildos. She sets it down on the black table and starts rifling through them. "The machine needs a name."

"Please pick a not-huge dildo," Alex says.

"That name sucks." Cory holds up a purple one and a green one, eyeballing the sizes. "Try again."

"Ass Slayer," Peter says. "Or how about... Butt Buzzer."

"Jesus, you're an English major?" Alex asks, breaking out of Peter's hold to watch Cory attach the bright green dildo to the metal thing at the end of the fuckmachine's long pole. "Those are terrible."

"Oh yeah? What's your brilliant name?" Peter asks, smacking Alex's ass.

"Cory needs to name it. She loves it the most."

Cory looks up with a bright smile. She's wearing sparkles around her eyes again, and they gleam as the lines around her eyes crinkle with excitement. "Assinator 3000."

"I was... thinking a lady name, like a ship." Alex laughs. "But Assinator 3000 does seem fitting."

He watches as Cory wastes no time sliding a clear condom over the green dildo. Then she digs around in the cabinet and emerges with a big plastic container of lube and some surgical gloves.

Alex's dick attempts to crawl back inside of his body. "Maybe this is a terrible idea."

"Nah." Peter palms his ass. "Get naked and I'll make it a really good idea for you."