He did not imagine a mall being involved the first time he had sex like this. He definitely didn't picture a Crate & Barrel. But tomorrow he'll decide there's something very punk about it. Even if Kyle manages to make it a great deal more tender than Quentin had ever imagined enjoying so much.
Braces himself at first. Expecting something rougher. But it doesn't have to be rough to get to that feeling he's after. Even if his pride alone might prefer it. Soon he feels the heavy shifting of Kyle's body against his more deeply than he imagined. Like every angle and plane between them is ball and socket joint. Made to fit snugly and shift smoothly beneath the motion of the other. When coupled with the warmth of Kyle's sweetest, most heartfelt earnesty, Quentin feels good in places that he couldn't describe.
Soon he folds himself around Kyle and buries his fingers in Kyle's hair until those first short, jerked movements of his boyfriends hips snap his resolve like a rubber band stretched too far.
"Ahh— fuck!" he gasps. For a moment none of the images that pass through his mind like a flip book are even of them. Not memories. Just a catalog of memorable money shots he's collected in young life.
Uncertain which one of them sparked this feeling first, he clings to Kyle more tightly still. Arching his back to grind himself against Kyle stomach as he cums. It's a small mercy when their skin feels too slick to offer much friction. Little huffs turn into desperate groans as he bucks against Kyle even long after the high point has passed. Just because his body still hums with a sensation he doesn't want to let go of if he can.
"Hngg," he groans when that feeling starts slipping away like water in cupped hands. Feeling himself move away from euphoria an ache in his chest, but even that feels cathartic somehow. "Ahhh fuck. Fuckkk. Kyyyyle," he whines and breathes in the smell of Kyle's hair in an effort to snuggle closer.
cw: nsfw
Braces himself at first. Expecting something rougher. But it doesn't have to be rough to get to that feeling he's after. Even if his pride alone might prefer it. Soon he feels the heavy shifting of Kyle's body against his more deeply than he imagined. Like every angle and plane between them is ball and socket joint. Made to fit snugly and shift smoothly beneath the motion of the other. When coupled with the warmth of Kyle's sweetest, most heartfelt earnesty, Quentin feels good in places that he couldn't describe.
Soon he folds himself around Kyle and buries his fingers in Kyle's hair until those first short, jerked movements of his boyfriends hips snap his resolve like a rubber band stretched too far.
"Ahh— fuck!" he gasps. For a moment none of the images that pass through his mind like a flip book are even of them. Not memories. Just a catalog of memorable money shots he's collected in young life.
Uncertain which one of them sparked this feeling first, he clings to Kyle more tightly still. Arching his back to grind himself against Kyle stomach as he cums. It's a small mercy when their skin feels too slick to offer much friction. Little huffs turn into desperate groans as he bucks against Kyle even long after the high point has passed. Just because his body still hums with a sensation he doesn't want to let go of if he can.
"Hngg," he groans when that feeling starts slipping away like water in cupped hands. Feeling himself move away from euphoria an ache in his chest, but even that feels cathartic somehow. "Ahhh fuck. Fuckkk. Kyyyyle," he whines and breathes in the smell of Kyle's hair in an effort to snuggle closer.