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Good Things Cum to Those Who Wait.

A M/M Kink Stye Erotica.

By Moonlit Sky.Published 3 years ago 3 min read
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I turn around, and my jaw drops, and something else starts to rise. Leaning against the door, Kyte stands there in a firefighter outfit.

“Oh my…” is all I can mutter out and he grins, the jacket is a perfect fit, but is open revealing his well-muscled body. The olive-toned skin, the pants hang on his hips by a thread.

All I can do is walk toward him, and within a few steps each, we’re embracing.

He kisses me long and deep, our tongues flicking each other like dancing flames, and from the dessert, he still tastes like vanilla and sweetness. His hands run over my back and down to my ass, which he squeezes and makes me want to press even closer. Soon, we harden against each other, and I lean down to bite his shoulder.

He moans, and both his hands grab my ass to warm it up, in preparation. Then, after a few moments, he moves me to the bed and pushes me onto my stomach, then he straddles my legs, and pulls down my pants.

I can barely refrain from smiling. Kyte rubs my now bare skin a few more times and already pleasure starts coursing through me. Then he brings his hand down for a right smack and while I don’t make a sound, my eyes close in enjoyment.

He spanks again, and I almost arch into his hand, wanting more. And he obliges. He spanks me several times more, each time my body reacts with a rush of pleasure, and my southern region is pulsing. One more spank, this one harder, makes me breathe out in a small gasp. Then he rubs more and I start moaning just a little.

“Ah!” I gasp louder this time when his hand comes down, harder than the last time, his hand delivers more spanks at the level, enough to make me grunt each time, but gods above I never wanted this to stop.

Spank.

Mmm.

Spank.

Oh yes.

Spank!

Oh, fuck yeah!

I could hear my own moans, and then Kyte got up and pulled my pants off with him, with no resistance from me. He turned me over, and I sprang to life, he grins, naked now from the waist down.

He leans on the bed and crawls over me, kissing my stomach, then my chest making my nipples harder than they were before. Then my neck and he puts his hands on my wrists when I reach up to him; he pushes them down and holds me in place.

Then he goes to town on my sensitive neck, kissing and nibbling ever so lightly at the skin. Soon, I am trying my hardest to breathe correctly and wanting nothing more than to reach down between us and stroke.

But he keeps my wrists in place, his strength much more than mine. He continues kissing my neck up and down, onto my chest and around my collarbone. All the while, the fire builds inside me and I start pulling at his hands to reach below.

He chuckles in my ear, “eager, are you?”

I nearly growl back, “you would be too if I added a little pain.”

He pulls back and onto his side, an opening that I know he purposely made, but I’ll take it happily. I launch myself over him and straddle just above his hips. His arms are “caught” under my legs and shirtless, he looks up at me and raises a brow.

Without waiting, I drag my nails up his muscled stomach and grin at how he jumps and tries to suck in his stomach and arch his back. He doesn’t laugh, but he gasps a few times, and I drag my fingers up and past his ribs, across his chest making his nipples hard, then up to his neck.

By now he’s smiling but breathing hard, and I run my hands flat down his chest, feeling the nubs of his nipples and wanting to stop there, but I rub down his ribs and stomach, pause to circle his belly button with one fingertip, which his skin flinches at. Then I rub them back up to his chest.

I circle them over his nipples once, then I start rubbing them, and carefully pinching them between my forefinger and thumb. He moans now and arches his back in response. So, I tweak them reasonably hard, and he instinctively hunches forward and bites his lip. But he could quickly push me off him. Instead, he says, “grab the pins,” meaning the clothespins in our drawer. And when I have them attached, he says, “your turn.” Looking very meaningfully at my crotch.

I smile and lean back, he reaches for me, and I moan when he starts stroking me.

lgbtq
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About the Creator

Moonlit Sky.

I'm a writer. Often with a dirty mind. I love animals, movies, TV shows and books.

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