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My Tongue Will Taste Of...
Title: My Tongue Will Taste Of Gin…

Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, never happened, permission less

Rating/Pairing: So NC-17 it's not even funny. Pete Wentz/Adam Lazzara Taking Back Sunday/Fall Out Boy cross over

FYI: You guys know TBS and FOB were touring together? Well, yeah. Basically smut and stuff. Here we go! Ps; I know it’s really long and it’s not mest, but I swear to god it’s worth it. I’m not that proud of too many of my slashes, but I really like this one. Don’t forget to press that comment button once you’re done.

Dedication: Laura! _oneeighteven! Yeah! Because she’s going to marry Pete and what not. And because I <34 her…mmm, yeah, we haven’t talked much as of late, but still. I promised I’d do you a Pete slash ages back. All though it frightens me because he used to be a livejournal lurker, but maybe he’s not anymore.

***

Later, despite your sobriety, (you were obstinately ascetic in the face of alcohol and drugs, despite these things being constantly within your grasp), you could only vaguely remember the conversation and actions that led up to it, maybe the first few words that staggered off his tongue. He seemed drunk and he’d leaned against you heavily while manoeuvring his ass towards the couch in the back room of the coliseum you had performed at that night.

“Are you drunk too?” he’d asked, smiling at you with dishwater bangs falling in sweaty clumps over his eyes to his jaw, and you had been amused, arching eyebrows and giving him a genuine grin back.

“Straight-edged, Adam,” you’d reminded him, pressing your palms against the hard, bony ridges of his shoulders, pushing him back on the sofa.

He’d swerved, unsteady for a moment, his fingers grasping out and landing awkwardly on your hip for leverage.

“That’s not in my vocabulary,” he’d said, frowning slightly and letting his knees bend until he was sitting on the sofa with one arm stuck between his body and the back of the couch, the other stretched out, his hand still clutching at your side uncertainly.

“That’s because you’re drunk,” you nodded efficiently, sinking down with him, your leg catching beneath you, his knees touching you. You dealt with drunk people in the same manner as you would a four year old, but this attitude felt strange when Adam was the recipient. He was someone you respected in many ways, most predominantly intellectually, and you weren’t sure if he deserved the rudimentary treatment.

Then again, you reminded yourself of his childish drunk antics, so maybe this attitude was more appropriate then you had first perceived. You were idly turning this argument over in your head, as you had nothing else to think about at the moment, besides his warm skin against yours.

“Only a bit,” he pouted at you, shaking loose pieces of hair back and gliding his hand further back on your hip, tugging slightly. You watched the muscles in his forearm flex and leaned a little closer to him, still feeling the pull.

You weren’t sure where he was attempting to direct you, but it didn’t entirely make you uncomfortable- more so confused. You let out a faint laugh, moving your fingers around the offending wrist and pushing it back to his body.

“What are you trying to do?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He stuck his lip out further, twisting his hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

“I’m lonely,” he said, and you thought about this while he pressed his palm against yours, his eyes on the look of your intertwined fingers. His were longer and paler, and he stretched his leg out over your lap, shifting his weight a bit. “Just c’mere,” he coaxed, pulling your hand and his against his chest.

He held your wrist so your palm was flush against his sternum and the smooth fabric of his tight fitting shirt. You could feel his heart thudding softly beneath his ribs and you frowned, lifting your gaze to meet his, watching his eyes flutter shut.

“Adam…” you said. You’re tone wasn’t quiet warning or confused, but something in between, and he was guiding your hand down his chest, over his stomach to his belt buckle. You thought to jerk back here, but the relaxed expression on his face made you hesitate.

Instead, you laughed again lightly, in a slightly higher pitch then prior, shooting a nervous look towards the shut door of the small back room.

“Adam, what are you doing?”

He arched his back, shifting his hips a little so he was half lying out on the sofa, his head back, neck long. “Just…just…c’mere, Pete,” his voice was lower now, and you did not over look the sexual under tone.

“I’m not into this,” you said, pulling your hand away from him forcefully, scooting away further down the couch, arms folding protectively across your chest.

You felt Adam’s eyes on you, and his own hand had replaced yours on his belt buckle. He was rubbing softly, letting his fingers dip lower, closer to his crotch. You blinked, a brief wonder of how his hands would feel against you running through your mind before you shook the thought away, ignoring the tightening muscles in your abdomen.

His breathing was more stilted now, his leg stretching out again so his ankle was centred in your lap. You picked up a softened moan from him, and you desperately wanted to look at him again, but you stared stubbornly at the chipped wall across from you.

“That’s not what I heard,” Adam sighed out, and you were sure he said this only so you would look at him. You weren’t falling for it.

“I don’t know who you’ve been listening to,” you spit the words, concentrating on the distinct sound of a zipper being tugged open and the clink of a belt buckle falling loose. You told yourself to jump up fast and bolt from this situation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

Adam was your friend and you knew he wouldn’t force you into anything.

“Tony,” he murmured, and your ears were straining, picking up not only the soft rustle of his fingers over fabric, but the sound of footsteps hurrying past the door.

The name stuck in your mind, bringing a quickening of your breath and heart beat. You might’ve repeated the name as for corroboration, but that seemed overly redundant to you, something that you detested. You had heard him clearly, and when you looked at him in the low, seventy watt lighting, he was watching you with the faintest smirk, eyes half lidded.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your gaze, taking care to focus on only his face, his shoulder moving slightly with the movement of his hand against his lower body.

“What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.”

“It means Tony says you’re into it.”

You looked down at your lap, frustrated. You had given into the Lovato charm, but you didn’t want to admit that. Another brief flash, this one of the bleached blonde singer of Mest breathing beer breath in your face as he spoke in a fast, home town accent, trying to convince you that it wasn’t bad and you’d like it.

You’d been uncomfortable as you sat on a hotel bed with his thin body fitted between your knees, tattooed fingers working open your tight jeans.

“Tony, I don’t know-“ you’d started, automatically lifting your hips up as he pulled your pants off over your ass and thighs, grinning as he realised you weren’t lying when you casually mentioned that you never wore underwear.

“Tony has been known to stretch the truth,” you told Adam, keeping your voice casual.

“Really?” Adam sounded distracted, and his foot pressed down in your lap while he lifted his hips up, the shuffling sounds telling you he was removing his jeans. “He said you’ve got a nice mouth.”

Your ears burned and you bit your lip, wondering why you had screwed around with Tony when you were well aware of his inability to keep anything under wraps.

Jeremiah Rangel had even approached you the next morning, tearing himself away from his precious Matt and their little world of perfection just to tell you, “I don’t even want to know what you were thinking last night, but consider yourself as out as you can be.”

You’d grimaced, not just because you didn’t want anyone to know of your sexual escapade, but because you didn’t want Jeremiah in particular to hear about it. This wasn’t because you didn’t like him- you liked him a lot. In fact, that was why you didn’t want him to know.

“A nice mouth, huh?” You said, wondering if he was purposely moving his foot in your lap, or just squirming involuntarily.

“Mmmhmm…said it was a great blow job.”

You blush and his foot rubs against your crotch, your eyes falling shut. “Yeah? Did he mention it was a mistake?”

“Hmm…nah, not that… What do you blame it on?”

“What do you mean?” you cautiously leaned your weight against the back of the sofa, worrying your lip with your upper teeth as Adam continued caressing you through your jeans. You were letting him because it seemed to be keeping him content for the moment…and maybe you were a little lonely too.

“I always say I was drunk,” Adam explained.

Your brow furrowed momentarily, jaw loosening slightly, your lips just managing to stay closed. “I don’t really…have casual sex. It’s part of the edge thing.”

“Edge thing?” Adam sounded amused at this and you found yourself blushing, flexing your fingers against the grimy couch cushion.

“Yeah, that edge thing,” you snapped, turning your head to shoot him a glare. You felt your eyes widen, gaze narrowing by instinct right on his lap, because his hand was moving over…himself, and you were stuck just looking at…him.

All of him.

Like certain parts you should never be looking at.

You blushed furiously, noting his eyes watching yours, a lazy smirk resting on his lips. Your cheeks burned and you swallowed painfully, turning your attention to the heavy door of the room.

“Mmm…why do you do it, Pete?” Adam practically moaned and you thought to echo the breathy sound when his heel pressed against your crotch.

You could feel the heat starting behind your temples and your shirt felt itchy and heavy against your back from sweat. You blinked and swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts.

“Why do I what? Take care of my body? I don’t know, it seems like a smart move.”

Adam made a sound part growl and part annoyance, but you didn’t dare look at him again. “Take care of your body? That’s such…just, bullshit. It really is. You know, oxygen is corrosive. You could walk out of this building and a plane could drop on your head.”

“What’s your point?” You asked tersely, working your jaw in the exact same way his foot moved in your lap.

“You could die anytime. From the moment you’re born, your body is falling apart. You’re fucking made to die. Anything could kill you. Drugs, alcohol. It’s fun. It’s something to try.”

“It’s a quicker way to die.”

“Compared to what? If you knew right now that you were going to die before you reached thirty, say, by a car accident, knock on wood, would you still be edge?”

“Yes. I’d want to live my time as healthy as possible. I wouldn’t want to spend my night in a gutter incoherent and then wake up with some std ridden slut at four in the afternoon with an aching hangover.”

“Why does everything have to be extreme with you? Do you think I do that? Wake up with std ridden sluts at four in the afternoon?”

“No, but I’ve seen you sleep all day. I’ve heard you complain about your hangovers. I’ve watched you throw up all over yourself and giggle about it. I’ve seen you reduced to the mentality of a four year old and attempt to fly. I’ve watched you pass out. I’ve carried you back to your hotel because you couldn’t walk.”

He shifted, sitting up and pulling his legs with him. You’d pissed him off now, or offended him greatly, but you hardly cared. He was the one challenging your morals and beliefs- he deserved everything you’d said.

“Did you ever read this book…hmm, what’s it called? Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I’m pretty sure. Anyway, there’s this one part where they’re talking about dolphins and how they were smarter then people.”

You looked at Adam again confused, carefully keeping your eyes on his face as his pants were still open.

“No, I don’t think I…”

“See, humans have always thought they were smarter then dolphins because of all our inventions and achievements while dolphins just flopped around and played in the water.”

“Okay, well…yeah…”

Adam grinned wolfishly, shifting onto his knees and crawling closer, grasping the hem of your shirt and putting his face by your ear.

“But the dolphins Pete, they always thought they were smarter for this…exact…same…reason.”

“Adam, I didn’t…” you mumbled, sounding like you were pleading with him, his hot breath fluid against your neck. Your head tilted to the side automatically, giving him more skin to breathe over.

“You did Pete. You’re trying to say I’m stupid for getting drunk or high or having sex. Aren’t you?”

“Not…not you’re stupid, I don’t think that, I just believe-“you squirmed, his teeth brushing against the soft skin of your neck, his body pressing against yours. You felt his fingers clutch the fabric of your shirt tighter and you hissed, your body arching.

“I believe that sex feels really fucking good. I believe that my IQ is high enough that I can smoke a couple blunts and not end up a retard. I believe that I never want to be old and miserable in bed anyway. I believe that I want to do everything and feel everything that this plane of existence has to offer, and it’s all my choice whether I like it or not, not someone else’s. I believe hangovers are the price you pay for a really good time.” His voice was low, growling right against your ear. He was slowly pulling your shirt up your chest and you wriggled again, digging your fingers harder against the couch cushion.

“Adam…please…you…you can have a really good time without getting drunk. And what’s fun about throwing up all over yourself and…and passing out and…” You leaned up, looking at him desperately, letting him remove your shirt and throw it aside.

He bit down lightly below your ear and your whole body tensed, a shudder running beneath your skin. Your breath caught thickly in your throat, your half formed hard on pressed against the inside of your jeans. It was uncomfortable and hot and your body begged for touch and release.

“Once again Pete…the extremes with you. What’s wrong with getting buzzed? Giggling with your friends over a really lame ass movie? It’s funny just feeling your body for what it is…something you never really had control of in the first place.”

You tried to pull away from him, his hot voice tumbling down your spine, making your breath quicken and muscles tense. “I have full control over my body.” You said, forcing your voice steady.

Adam licked your neck, his tongue so warm and thick you shivered in pleasure, your eyes almost falling shut again. Instead, you managed to keep them half lidded, watching him in disappointment. Your fingers flexed, wanting to tangle themselves through his messy hair and force his mouth down against your throat again, but you refrained.

“You do?” Adam looked at you incredulously, his eyes narrowed beneath the overhang of his bangs.

You nodded and swallowed hard, wanting his attention off of you. The intensity of it was making you hotter and harder and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this.

He sat back, ridding himself of his shirt. You tried to meet his eyes again, confused, feeling him press against you.

“Adam!” you gasped, shocked and annoyed by the forwardness and the shoving.

He felt heavy against you, pale fingers grasping onto your bare shoulders, his chest and stomach warm against yours. Your knee closest to the back of the couch bent up, his hip against the inside of your thigh and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his erection brush against you quad.

“Adam…” your tone had changed dramatically, suddenly appreciative of the touch you were receiving and warm for more.

He purred back, attaching his mouth to your neck, his tongue something thick and hot against the skin below your ear, sloppy and wet from his inebriation. Fingers teased across your collarbones to your left nipple, working the metal ring through the bud.

Your jaw fell on its hinge and your brow creased, hips lifting slightly, his erection sliding against you once more. You sank back down again, your hand cautiously coming to rest against his side. He pinched your nipple and your fingers dug into his hip tighter, your back arching again involuntarily.

His tongue lapped up to your earlobe, biting down on the piercing and working it with his mouth the same way his fingers worked your nipple.

Your hips were pushing up against his weight almost steadily, slow, fluid movements that had your thigh muscles tightening and stomach filling with warmth. You kept your eyes closed, a light grunt falling from your parted lips as you rubbed up against him gently, letting the heat and pleasure of it stiffen your whole body gradually.

“So you’re consciously humping me?” Adam teased, breathing lighting upon the fresh wet mark on your neck.

You felt your hips jerk up harder at his words, your teeth gritting slightly. “Fuck you,” you mumbled distractedly.

“You’d like it,” he said, and you blinked your eyes open, focusing on the cheap textured ceiling, wondering if this was the right time to tell him that you hated people who felt the need to state the obvious.

You bit your lip and threw your head back again as he slid down lower, his lips wet and dragging over your shoulder and collarbones, down to your nipple, replacing his fingers with his tongue, and moving his digits down to your pelvic bone.

Your legs moved further apart automatically, one of his hands touching the outside of your thigh, rubbing up and down, firm but slow. You held your breath to keep the sounds locked in, closing your eyes again and gritting your teeth.

His hand moved up your thigh again, this time sliding the tips of his fingers along your tattoo, his movements slow and ghostly. You felt the trembles up your spine, the sweat trickling down from your temples. His tongue was curving against one of your nipple rings, sucking and playing with the metal, making your chest feel hot all through. You raised your hand, meaning only to lightly touch the back of his head for leverage, but your fingers fisted themselves through his longish hair, pressing his face down harder.

Deft fingertips opened up your belt buckle with a soft metallic sound, the zipper sliding down without a catch, unlike your breath. You squeaked, forgetting to breathe for a moment as the broad part of his tongue slipped over your piercing again.

Your back arched again, your calloused fingertips brushing his hair back, thumb sliding momentarily against his damp forehead. You moved your other hand against his shoulder, finding the skin warm, the muscles flexing as he moved his arms to remove your jeans.

His palm touched the underside of your erection while his other hand tossed your clothing aside, and your eyes shot open, your chest jerking beneath his mouth, his teeth lightly scraping against your hard nipple, lips pulling in a smile against your skin.

“Moan for me, Pete,” he said, his breath cold against the freshly wetted skin.

You made a light, puppy dog sort of whimper, his fingers wrapping tighter around you and stroking. You couldn’t help but squirm and push up against his fist just a little, tugging at his hair. You growled softly as he played with your slit with his thumb, hating him for the teasing, hating the feeling of being so turned on you’d agree to anything as long as you got off.

This was exactly why you didn’t drink- you realised how help less you already were, and you wanted to keep the little control that you did have.

You pushed his head down further and he complied, dragging his tongue down to your naval and shoving your legs even further apart. With your thighs this spread, you couldn’t help but feel sluttish- he was getting a full view of everything and you closed your eyes again, trying not to think about that.

Instead, you focused on his mouth, working down from your naval, following what would be your happy trail if you didn’t shave it. You felt his long fingers wrap around the base of your erection, rubbing up and down the length but shying away from the sensitive head, his tongue lavishing up your inner thigh.

You felt the damp muscle dragging so close to your balls and your hips strained up, desperate for contact. His other hand slid beneath you, his fingers grabbing your ass, and your thighs splayed further apart.

“Oh, god…” You touched the back of his neck as his mouth moved around your erection, the warm, wet insides of his mouth sucking in and his palm wet with saliva wrapped around the little not past his lips, forming a tight vacuum around your dick. He forced his face down in your lap, quickly deep throating you, and you were so caught up in the orgasmic feeling, you could ignore his fingers touching you between your ass cheeks. He held still for a moment, your balls pressed up against his chin, his spit dribbling down to keep everything wet. You could feel his soft pallet and his tongue wriggle a bit so the broad part of it was massaging that sensitive area just behind the head of your cock.

The only thing that mattered was his tight mouth, his lips pulled over his teeth so that everything you felt was soft, wet, and hot. Your thighs trembled slightly, the muscles of your stomach and lower back tensing and your teeth grit down so hard you felt the ache all through your jaw and neck.

He pulled back fully for a moment, working spit up in his mouth, thumbing your slit while his other fingers tended to the underside, his hand so wet and wrapped about your erection that you wanted to fuck it. You looked down for a moment to watch him suck on his own fingers, his cheeks hollowed and lips pouted, thoroughly wetting them before moving them down to your balls again, your stomach twitching in pleasure.

You liked having your balls played with, and you might’ve asked him to put them in his mouth if you weren’t so turned on you couldn’t talk.

He leant down again, holding your cock firmly in one hand, moving his whole tongue up the underside of your dick. You felt his lips tighten around the head again, his tongue swirling around it before brushing over the tip a few times, bringing on small convulsions from your body.

It felt so good already, your balls tightening and one of his hands touching them gently, the other moving down your cock with his mouth. His head was bobbing now, his tongue and lower lip pressing hard against the underside, and you couldn’t tell by feel that he even had teeth.

You moaned, thrashing your head back and forth and tightened your fingers through his dishwater hair, your hips trembling as you tried to keep them down; you didn’t want to choke him by fucking him in the face.

His tongue rose up, rubbing against the overly sensitive underside of your cock, right as he pushed a long finger into your ass. Your hips jerked up in surprise, your dick hitting the back of the throat, but he took it easily, moving his finger inside of you. Your muscles tightened around him inadvertently, his wet mouth and secured hand dragging up and down your erection, all slowly and firmly.

You were trembling and he pulled his finger out of you, pressing back in with two and pushing them in deep. You squirmed slightly, moaning again in weak protest, not sure how you felt about the pressure. You squirmed back on his fingers, trying to find a comfortable position, bending your legs up slightly.

He brushed up against something that made your vision flash and your cheeks flush with heat, and you let out a wordless cry, pressing back down on his fingers harder.

“There?” he pulled his mouth back and you were prepared to cry out in objection, but his fingers brushed up against that spot inside of you again, and you forgot how to speak.

Your head nodded rapidly, your cheeks burning. You were partially sitting up, rocking slightly on his fingers, and he angled one arm around your hips, sitting himself back on his knees between your thighs. He pulled you up a little higher, and you grasped onto his shoulder with one hand, putting your weight on your knees too. Your other hand went behind you, bracing yourself against the armrest, his hand beneath you and fingers inside of you.

“Remember…” Adam paused to swallow, tightening his arm around your waist and leaning his body up against yours. “Remember that time we rode that mechanical bull?”

You nodded, biting your lip, your nose rubbing against his with the movement of your head. Adam pressed his fingers deeper and you shuddered, your back arching up and your own fingers digging harder into his bicep.

Adam grinned almost mischievously, his lips brushing against your chin, the stubble on his jaw scratching against yours. “Ride my fingers like that.”

You blinked at him slightly unsure, cautiously arching your back up, gasping when he moved his fingers against you. His free hand grasped your hip, his eyes on your face, and you let your hips move, forcing yourself down on his fingers.

You shuddered, closing your eyes and leaning your head to the side, letting out a breathy moan, moving your body a little more fluidly. Adam kept his hand fairly steady, thrusting his fingers only slightly, letting you do most of the work, bringing your ass down harder, hips rocking.

Your stomach tightened, the muscles in your arms and legs feeling rigid, your body hot and winded. Your cries were soft but constant, brow furrowed in concentration. Adam nuzzled your throat, holding your one hip steady, your body shaking slightly.

“Oh…” you moaned, moving your hips harder, trying to make his fingers hit that spot, breathing harder and rocking faster.

Adam moved his mouth to your ear, keeping his voice soft. “You’re about to cum all over yourself just because I’m letting you ride my fingers.”

let.

He was letting you ride his fingers and your body was responding urgently, your hips rolling, grinding your ass down on each backward thrust to make him hit your prostate. He was letting you ride his fingers and you were grateful and submissive, willing to give him anything his asked for, just because he was doing you the mercy of pushing his fingers right into your spot.

He was getting you right there on the edge, right there where you wanted to be so badly, your muscles could hardly hold back. Each one was tensed and aching, so much strain and build up, you knew you were about to give in soon.

You whimpered, wanting to open your eyes but not having the ability. All you could do was tighten your muscles around his digits, moving your hips so his fingers slid in and out of your body.

Adam nuzzled below your ear again, licking the skin once. “It can be even better…let me fuck you.”

You didn’t even think about it. You just nodded rapidly , moving your legs from beneath you, lying back again. Your shoulders hit the couch cushion, your legs opening wide again. Adam leaned over you, keeping his fingers up your ass, his free hand pushing one of your thighs back.

Your raised your feet up in the air, his hips fitting between your thighs, pulling his fingers from you. You let out a growl in protest and Adam grinned at you, his face hovering above yours, his hair falling against your cheeks.

You leaned your head back, hearing Adam spit into his own hand and the slick sound of his hand running over his erection, wetting himself. You lifted your legs higher, leaning them over his shoulders as he pressed the tip of his cock at your opening.

You squirmed slightly as he started to push in, your eyes squeezing shut, letting out a loud gasp. You dug your nails into the couch cushion, arching your back up deeply against him. He braced his hands against your shoulders, pushing all the way inside of you, shifting his weight slightly.

Once he was fully in, you let your legs lower, wrapping them around his waist. He rested his weight down, his chest pressing against yours, his breath ghosting across your lips.

“Adam…” you blinked up at him, his forehead almost touching yours, his hips still.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never…”

“I know,” he looked sympathetic momentarily, drawing back slightly and you let out a light cry in response to the movement. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

You shivered briefly, your tongue moving to form a retort, but Adam’s body thrust forward and your whole body slid up, your eyes almost crossing.

“Holy shit!” you yelped instead of some witty rejoinder, your face and chest flushing with heat and painful pleasure.

Adam had his face tensed up, chin tilted upwards while he bit on his lip, grasping your thighs with his lean hand. His hips had begun a piston motion on their own accord, a steady, mechanic pace that kept constant massage against the sensitive spots inside of you.

You moaned and thrashed slightly, wriggling with obvious ecstasy, wanting to get fucked harder. You squirmed and arched your spine, pushing back against his thrusts by lifting your body against his, still not quite satisfied. You wanted him as deep inside you as he could be. You wanted to feel all of him in you, and you pushed against him, bending your legs.

He straightened, looking at you through his tumbled hair with narrowed eyes. “What did…” he trailed off at the predatory look you fixed on him, his hands raising to press his palms flush against either of your pierced nipples.

He released a slight gasp of air as you kept pushing against him, trying to land him on his back. You straddled his lap quickly, grasping his cock beneath you. He’d softened slightly without the hot tightness of your ass, but your hand cured that quickly. You rubbed him a bit and teased his slit, making the muscles of his tummy ruffle beneath a sheen of sweat slicked pale skin.

You spit in your hand to relubricate him before you steadied his cock one handed, sitting back on it. Your body jerked, your face almost blissful, sitting down fully with the backs of your thighs against his lap.

You held your hands against his chest for leverage, starting to move your body against his, his eyebrows furrowing and jaw dropping.

“Uhhhhn, yes, ride me…” Adam clutched onto the couch cushions, his knuckles turning white, the bones in his shoulders twisting and flexing beneath his skin. He squirmed against you, his hips bucking up beneath your weight uncontrollably.

“Mmm, like I rode the bull,” you meant this half teasingly but your tone took on something breathy and desperate.

You were breathy though, and you were desperate too- in desperate need to be fucked.

“Harder then you rode the bull…” Adam gulped, his hands rubbing your thighs deeply, “Fuck me hard.”

You sped up at his words, throwing your weight down on him and leaning up alternately, his erection buried up your ass. You moaned loudly and constant again, clutching at his shoulders, then his chest, his sides, his biceps, his hair. Your fingers thrust through his bangs and tugged, the sweat sliding down your back and chest.

You couldn’t hold yourself back much longer. You heard the couch squeaking faintly beneath you, sliding against the floor from your rough motions, but you weren’t about to stop. You were right there on the edge and there was no way anyone could’ve made you stop. You had to feel release.

You wanted to fucking cum, all over Adam’s shivering, sweaty body.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, tossing your head back to get your bangs out of yours eyes, shifting your hips slightly and hissing air between your teeth. “Rightthererightthererightthererightthererightthererightthererightthere…”

You weren’t sure if you meant his cock was exactly where you wanted it to be, deep and pushing against your spot, or if you meant you were about to cum.

You felt Adam’s hand move up to grasp your erection and the muscles in your stomach gave a small spasm, your teeth gritting down. It felt like too much, him palming the underside of your dick while he fucked you, and you felt that tightening and fluttering through out your chest and thighs.

“Oooooh, Adam…” you sounded like you were pleading with him, moving your ass down against his cock so hard it hurt you, but you had to feel it. You were aching to feel it. You wanted to feel penetrated all the way up your spine and through your shoulder blades.

“Cum on me,” Adam demanded, taking control of the situation again. His free hand touched your balls and they were tight and raised up painfully. You hissed, sweat stinging your eyes and your knees spreading further apart on either side of his withering body.

You trembled, your mouth going dry and an almost painful shiver sliding across your shoulders and down the sides of your neck. Your fingers stiffened against his stomach and your back went rigid, a low, keening sort of sound rumbling up from the bottom of your larynx.

“Uhhhhnnnnn, Adam…” you swallowed stiffly, dropping your head forward as warmth and pleasure soaked into every crevice of your body. “Fuck my ass…”

His hips were pushing up against your weight, so every time you sat back, he arched up, bringing him incredibly deep.

Your body shivered a last time and your knees gave out, landing you right on his erection, shoved as far up your ass as he could go. Your muscles trembled, your shoulders lifting up with the strain and panted moans dripped from your mouth helplessly. You felt Adam’s hand all over your dick again, and softer on your balls, pumping and working the fluid out onto his tight stomach and you whimpered and arched, wanting him to milk you dry.

You tightened your muscles on his cock, rotating your hips a little over him, shivering and disoriented from your orgasm. “Cum in me…” you whimpered, not able to open your eyes as your body finished off, your muscles going weak again.

You felt Adam strain up against you one last time, his teeth gritting and his throat vibrating with a final, hoarse moan. You grinded your ass down, flexing your muscles to make sure he came as deep in you as possible, grinding your own teeth and falling forward, your face hovering over Adam’s. You felt his hand on the back of your head, fingers fisted through your hair, forcing your mouth against his and you kissed him, heavily and heated. You let your tongue slide against him, pulling yourself off his cock and rearranging yourself to lay flush against his warm body, his chest pushing against yours as he breathed.

You licked at the insides of his mouth, noting the soft, subtle taste of him and maybe jolly ranchers or some other hard candy. You paused for a moment, lifting your head just enough to look at him.

“Fuck,” Adam sighed, sliding his arm around your wet backside, his hand brushing across your sore ass. “I love you straight edged kids.”

You couldn’t taste any alcohol on him at all.

fin.